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daily-dose-of-writing · 3 years

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Holy shit I hit the 1k mark and didn’t even realise. You guys are all bonkers I started this to just keep track of my prompts! Thank you very much!!! To celebrate, have a short story about how writers are awesome and different ways of seeing the world that none of you will probably read, but I hope those who do will enjoy it :)

How Beautiful the World Is

Andy had always admired writers. They were the only people who could manage to make the world sound so beautiful, he thought. The way that even beautiful things could be made more beautiful; the way every sunset blossomed on the clouds the way that sweet, wild clover blossoms in a meadow, hues from burnt orange flame to heather told in soft rolling verse, the way every field was a luscious bounty of daisies and sun-strengthened grass, and every sky was rolling blue like the foam and ice of breaking waves on the winter coast. They had a habit of making each detail wonderfully beautiful, filled with unparalleled splendour.

However, in all actuality, the world was rather dull. Grass was a limp, pitiful green, sunsets were often mild, mostly unnoticed, not worth being looked upon, the sky was grey, clouds floated gloomily like lost, empty ghosts, the night sky was just a dull, navy sort of blue.

Perhaps it was the cold sadness that hung over him that dampened the world into a flattened grey emptiness, an expanse of tarmac and concrete, weather stained and foot-beaten, lacking in any and all beauty, but perhaps books were just optimistic ways of helping children get through the day.

He could still accept that there were certain beauties to the world, there was no denying that, but often the bad outweighed the good. He remembered someone telling him once that everything was made from a pile of good things, and a pile of bad things, and the good didn’t always make the bad better, but the bad didn’t necessarily sour the good, but he thought that even that was being optimistic.

And then he met Jet.

Johnathan Charles Morrow. When he first heard of him, a transfer student who was arriving in a few days, Andy laughed at the name. They speculated as to who the kid was, weaving tall tales about some rich man’s son who had been pulled from some posh private school after his father had lost all of his money to a gambling addiction, or something else that the particularly high-end community would frown upon, who would turn up with an attitude that turned the world around him foul, and who's accent would be so incredulously opulent that it would be an immense source of entertainment for the rest of the time he was in their lives. How unbelievably wrong they were.

When he first arrived, there was one main surprise to him; Jet had had cancerous growths on both of his optical nerves, not that Andy had known that specifically at the time, and had been forced to have both eyes removed at a very young age. He was completely and utterly blind.

The kid had a wolfish grin that he wore on his face almost every second of the day, and accompanying it was a face that smiled with it, all the way from his chin to his hairline. The smile lines of his face stretched from the corners of his sightless eyes like the magnetic poles of the world he couldn’t see, casting shadows across the smooth golden skin of his cheeks. It was infectious. The joy that cascaded across his face leaked onto everyone and everything around him. It was impossible not to be drawn to him.

Andy first spoke to him on the second day he attended school. It was raining, the grey clouds hung like melancholy sorrows, and it was cold enough that his breath danced across the morning air, spinning like a dancer caught in a moment of time, but the air seemed to warm around Jet, around his resplendent smile.

They began to chat, talking about anything and everything, contrasting opinions giving way to arguments that usually would've angered Andy to the point of storming off, but instead it instilled an almost healthy sense of competition in him, and before he realised, Jet had become one of the best friends that Andy had. And then Jet was the best friend that Andy had.

Then one day, one boring, mundane, Thursday evening, as they were making their way down yet another generic suburban road, on their way back to Jet’s house, and Jet told him he thought the world was beautiful.

Andy was so taken aback that he stopped still where he stood, dead on his feet, and it took a few steps for Jet to realise he’d stopped walking. A crumpled look crossed his features like broken waves crashing over rocks. “How? How on earth can you say that? You can’t even see!”

There was the smile again, intoxicating as ever. “Sight is not what makes the world beautiful.”

“I beg to differ. What else is there beyond sight? Corruption? Pollution? People?”

Jet paused, a quizzical look polluting and distorting his smile, Andy felt a twinge of regret coil its way up his throat, which he swallowed back down again, but feeling a little bad for what he’d said.

“When the sun is shining, I feel the heat on my skin, the soft warmth that makes my skin tingle like I am being enveloped in kindness and love. That is beautiful. When I dip my fingers into crisp water, and I feel the brisk, omnipresent coolness, the relaxation of bracing water on your forehead that balances the sometimes stickiness of excessive heat, that is beautiful. I hear the birds chirping in the morning, whistling their own personal symphonies, singing at the top of their lungs, I am safe, I am awake, I am alive. I think that too, is beautiful. When I walk home from school with you and I hear mothers picking up their children from primary school, their children babbling about whatever it is that children find important at that age. That is beautiful.” He paused, putting a hand on Andy’s shoulder, shuffling his stick awkwardly under his other arm and smiling softly. “When I hear the cheerful voices of my friends in the morning, or their laughs, it reminds me that I am not, nor will I ever be, alone with any sadness that I have, and that, above all else is beautiful.”

“But you're never sad, you smile like every day is a celebration!”

Another conflict of emotion flickered across his face. “Just because you can't see something doesn’t mean it's not there. When you go to the seaside, you can't tell what lies in the depths by standing in the shallows.”

“But you're my best friend! You – I,” A strangled sound ripped itself from his lips and he stepped out of Jet’s grasp, letting his arms fall limply in the space between them. “I should know if you're unhappy, Jet.”

“Andy - I didn’t mean anything of it.”

“So, that smile, it's not really a smile?” He folded his arms across himself and rubbed a hand under his chin. “It's a mask? You – you're hiding behind it?”

“Not in the way you’re implying.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jet didn’t add anything to his previous comment, only turned his head away, sucking his teeth. He mumbled something under his breath that Andy didn’t catch and sighed. There was something bubbling beneath his usually calm composure, not quite irritation, but leaning in that direction, it was quite strange, Andy thought, to see such different mannerisms in his friend, and it made him almost uncomfortable.

Jet began to walk away. Andy had always admired that even though the boy lacked vision, he always went in the right direction, never into traffic, or off a pavement, he was surprisingly like a Canada goose in that respect, had an internal compass that was completely reliable, even more so that sight itself sometimes.

Andy rubbed his thumbs against his fists, but before he had a chance to retaliate in any way, Jet turned back around.

“You are stupid sometimes, you know that?”

“Hey-”

“Happiness only comes when you accept that there are some things that you can't change, I learned that a long time ago,” he gestured to his blackened glasses, “and one example of this is that you can never live in a state of complete happiness. There is no such thing as utopia, as heaven on earth, because there is always going to be something with the potential to ruin your mood, your day, or if you're really unlucky, your life.” Andy watched as he carefully removed his glasses, folded the arms and tucked them into his breast pocket. For the first time, he could see Jets prosthetic eyes, they were a rich hazel, like sun shining through a glass of whiskey, staring emptily at the ground in front of them.

“It all depends on whether you let the things ruin you. I have spent my life trying, desperately, to make sure that the things don’t ruin me, so I smile, and I look specifically for the good things about the world. Whereas you, you look for the sadness, and the grief, and the misery, that covers the world like a depressant, forcing everyone into a constant state of frustration that does nothing but make their life a misery, and then you wonder why you can't see the good in the world.”

“So yes, I think the world is beyond beautiful, and I understand that it is also an awful, awful place, but I choose not to dwell on that, because accepting your fate never gets anyone anywhere. You can't change the problems in the world if you’ve already given up. Life can be beautiful if you let it.”

Andy thought about this for a moment, dumbstruck by the fact that a sightless boy saw more beauty than him.

“And even then, not all beautiful things must be seen. Some beautiful things are the small nothingness that you hold close to your heart and make life worth living.”

Andy nodded, awe filtering through him like adrenaline, filling him up. “You’re right.”

Jet sniggered, that signature Cheshire grin splitting his face ear to ear, “I know.”

And maybe, just maybe, the sunset was just a little brighter that evening

#1k celebration #i genuinely cannot believe there’s that many of u guys #i feel like I’ve been hosting a basement party and expected like 2 people to show up and now don’t have enough crisps #short story #blindness #descriptive writing #writing #short stories #my writing #writing prompts #daily dose of writing

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indiegoblin · 2 years

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Fall is here, and it feels like a great time to dive into my first review post: some gorgeous and spooky Fantome samples!🍂

I'm at the start of my indie journey, and as a result, I pick scents to explore, learn, and grow my tastes. i.e....I get it wrong, a lot! I'm still figuring out what I love. Here's how I rate:

6- gasping wheezing noises as i huff my arm (will FS) 5- ohohohoh. yeah baby turn up this jam (might FS) 4- wearable, not just bearable (will finish sample) 3- this is fine. yeah. i am making a neutral expression 2- i could see how someone could like this. that person is not me. 1- Fellas we got a scrubber :(

A quick note on my experience beyond the smells: Fantome's site is reliable and easy to use on mobile. I placed my order on July 11th, and my samples shipped out on August 9th, standard for their 20-30 day TAT. My samples came with a care card, as well as an insert highlighting their bestsellers. No issues- as expected with such a well-reviewed and respected house! Now let's get INTO IT MAIN EVENT

🍅🍑 Lycanthrope- Spicy tomato leaf, dark honey, and oakmoss, with hints of peach, lychee, ivy, vanilla, and tomatoes fresh from the vine.

Starting off strong with my second favorite of the bunch! This scent is bright, juicy, and green. The peach and tomato play well together when wet: perfectly balanced between tart and sweet. The green, bitter tomato leaf and oakmoss come forward on the drydown, tempered by the vanilla. Sweet and unisex, this scent is for summer (or yearning for summer...)

I love this scent the more I wear it. It's like walking through a freshly-watered neighborhood garden full of things ripe for the picking, glowing in golden late-afternoon sunlight. 5/6

🍷🗡️Vassago- A silver dagger, red wine mulled with blackberries, cloves, & orange peels, a goblet of blood & a black mirror.

My partner picked this one. I'm in love with him, and also this. It smells like mulled wine in October. Opening full-bodied, fruity, and orange/blackberry forward, the cloves tickle the back of the throat. I didn't get any metallic blood or dagger out of this scent, but I don't mind. The fruits aren't synthetic or overly sweet. An autumn and winter scent, it makes me want to throw a very witchy dinner party.

For a gracious host who loves simmer pots, wine and conversation with friends 4/6

🌼💦Lymphae- Fresh musk, cool vanilla, a swift-running stream, Italian lilac, orange blossom, damp earth, and the ozone of spring thunderstorms.

This is where I learned that Fantome's aquatic note does *not* work for me. Most people describe a vividly realistic stream experience. I get...sharp soap. This changes slightly on the drydown, I think I pick up a little more of the florals and nice earth note separate from that sharp smell that I think must be the aquatic note of the stream. This is well reviewed and could be really lovely on someone who is not me.

I want to love this one very badly. Sample bed rest and further testing are prescribed! 2/6

🍂🏕️Kupala- Morning dew, davana, fern flower, bonfire smoke, birch leaves, warm summer air

Accursed aquatic: pt. 2. My first scrubber ever. That sharp scent from Lympae is also present here (in the form of dew), and in combination with the bonfire smoke, this is a death combo. I've tried smoke scents I love, but this didn't work for me. Lots of people have high praise for the Fantome aquatics, though - worth the chance!

This scent took me back to a tour I took when I was 16 of a castle basement where they had an exhibit on medieval torture. It smelled bad down there. 1/6

🥀🔮Madame D'Esperance- Sage laced with creamy jasmine, sensual red patchouli, frankincense, dusty cedar, a hint of rose, and intoxicating ambrette.

Have you ever been in a small town gift shop, incense in one corner, local soaps in the other, all sorts of eclectic items everywhere? This smells JUST like that. It's not a negative experience at all, personally. The sage and patchouli are strong on my skin chemistry, and the dusty cedar and "hint of rose" combine into what I must be perceiving as "old building". Not even a hint of jasmine to my nose. Fascinating!

The Madame is spooky, but comforting. She offers you sage advice and a discount at the register. 3/6

🌲🦌Faun- Opens with a deceptive hint of sweetness from neroli, grapefruit, and iris—then deepens into dark vetiver, oakmoss swirled in amber, and hints of animalistic musk.

Faun. Oh boy. So. I enjoy that deceptive opening, as a big grapefruit fan. You can sense the beast beneath, but when wet, it's just a dark, playful force under the bright grapefruit and neroli. I thought, cool. I love a little dark wood, I ADORE vetiver, I'm down for the bitter, woodsy drydown. Unfortunately, on my skin, it becomes straight up sweaty forest mammal. Consider this a watershed moment: I am not the person who loves animalistics. A valuable lesson. I will never wear this again.

Sweet faun grows fangs and hunts you down in the forest, if you're into that. Maybe you are ;) 1.5/6

🦋🌳Duende- Evokes the smell of being lost in a forest—with oakmoss, cedar, fir, resinous labdanum, benzoin, tree sap, wild violets, and lilac.

When I first smelled this, my first and only note was "wet log". After resting two weeks, I could talk about this smell forever. It's green, fresh, floral, and woody. It opens with green, dewy florals. At no point could I call the lilac or violet "powdery". This is no baby powder or soapy purple floral. The flowers wake up the dark, resinous forest notes of the drydown- this is a scent that lives and breathes. So much brighter than I was expecting!

Like walking through an old-growth forest with an armful of freshly-picked lilac. The #1 winner for this batch for me and for the summer! **6/6**

🌻🐝Vasalisa- Clover honey, neroli, rich tonka, chamomile, dry hay, a flower crown of marigolds & sunflowers.

Free sample! This is a heavy, deep honey scent. If you've ever had the pleasure of keeping bees and smelled that glorious, end-of-summer warm honey smell that lingers around them this time of year, this is it in a bottle. The hay note is very forward on my skin, especially on the drydown, which I don't personally love for wearing, but delights me from a blending standpoint for how it holds down the florals and completes the atmosphere. This is a rich, golden smell for end of summer and early fall.

For beekeepers, aspiring beekeepers, or people who love to stand in fields pretending to be bees. 4/6

Jasmine Sambac

This was a freebee, single-note of the jasmine sambac they use in some of their blends. I'm a jasmine fiend, so this feels like fate! It's not a fresh jasmine flower and doesn't lean dewy at all. It shares some of that golden energy with Vasalisa- deep, floral, and mature. I bet someone who didn't typically love jasmine notes might change their mind for this one.

Perfect for layering or wearing alone, which I WILL do OFTEN 5/6

TLDR: This sample set was a wonderful send-off to summer. This set was also a great learning experience for my likes (smelling like a forest!), dislikes (smelling like a forest animal!), and I would definitely look to order more from Fantome in the future.

#indie perfume #indie scent #indie #perfume #fragrence #queer perfume #fantome

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surpriserose · 3 years

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Here’s some Squid Game analysis because I’m late to the party. I’ve seen a lot of comparisons to Parasite so that’s kind of where I started. So there’s actually spoilers for both under the cut. Also keep in mind that I watched it subbed and I’m coming at this specifically from an American perspective.

Squid game is pretty poggers I have some problems w/ it but I think that’s because I’ve been a bit ungenerous comparing it to Parasite, when they’re two different mediums talking about two different things.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen Parasite so grain of salt, I may get some things wrong.

On the medium thing real quick, Parasite is a movie it’s obviously much shorter and condensed and it has to maintain suspension of disbelief for less time. Squid Game being around seven hours longer has a less successful time with that imo. Things started to get a little too abstracted after too much time with everyone in the games and away from the problems that pushed them into the games. That’s why episode 2 Hell is the most successful episode imo, because everything outside of the games was more compelling to me, with the games being the extremes people are pushed to it’s nice to keep reminding people of why they’re actually there so the audience ends up thinking more about the themes and motivations of the characters rather than the games themselves. I don’t know if this makes a lot of sense but that’s how I ended up feeling towards the end.

So! Parasite is explicitly about capitalism and not that Squid Game isn’t, but it’s specifically focused on debt and since it was originally written around 2008-9 during the Great Recession it makes a whole lot of sense. Meanwhile Parasite focuses more on the idea of upward momentum, which is why you see a lot of the film literally taking place in basements and the house was specifically designed for a lot of shots of characters going up and downstairs. Parasite and Squid Game do have the same concept with lower social classes pitted against each other by the rich, but again, not in the same way. In Parasite you have the protagonists sabotaging another impoverished family to steal their jobs (specifically the former maid and her husband) and the conflict is between them and the rich family they’re working for doesn’t even notice until things blow up during the climax. In Squid Game you have the workers and the players coming from the same pool of people all for the benefit of the ultra rich, but they’re not exactly in conflict. At least not in the same way as in Parasite, here the conflict is with the workers as the hand of the ultra rich, who are very invested in the lower classes. It’s a zero sum game in each sure -- literally in Squid Game -- but the workers aren’t a part of it, even though they’re just as alienated and controlled.

Squid Game seems interested in exploring that? Like both the workers and the players are part of the game, and half of the ideological conflicts between characters are because while they may not be holding the gun, they’re just as responsible for getting players killed towards the end. They’re both victims of alienation, really, part of a machine, if you really want to get marxist about it. Hwang’s subplot and the Doctor’s subplot seem to be trying to juggle this while also having to juggle the role of whistleblower and ideas of self interest at the same time.

I think other people tend to thing Hwang’s subplot is the weakest part of the show? Personally I think it’s pretty good? What really ends up suffering because of this subplot is the reveal of the host plot imo. There’s so much time focused on who the Front Man is that he seems more important than what he ends up being, another victim of the games instead of the one behind them. I really expected the twist to be Gi-hun becoming the new Front Man, that it would be an expectation of all the winners. Or that they would be pushed into it, technically of their own free will, due to their guilt and being unable to really function in regular society again after the trauma they witnessed. If Hwang did end up killing his brother, nothing would have changed, there would be another winner to take his place. The machine doesn’t stop, it just changes parts occasionally, you know? That would have emphasized the fruitlessness of Hwang’s plot in a way that echoed what made Parasite’s ending so successful. It didn’t pull any punches with it’s refutation of idealism in the face of tragedy. I’m not saying Squid Game pulled it’s punches really, just that it was more interested in examining the people going through the tragedy as it happens rather than the greater scope of hopelessness with regards to capitalism and dismantling it slash making it work for yourself. That’s why the focus after Gi-hun wins isn’t really what he does or doesn’t do with the money, but the way getting it affected him. And that’s why Hwang’s plot probably felt so unsatisfying to other people? It didn’t lead to anything in the end, but he didn’t have a chance in hell, really. It’s probably the lack of focus Hwang got that made it feel unsatisfying? Like his goals and circumstances were so different, it was hard to juggle what his story was trying to say while also focusing on the games. Honestly, the payoff of Hwang’s subplot is that there’s supposed to be no payoff. Or maybe this is just the same people who thought Ki-woo actually bought the house at the end of Parasite.

Also with regards to Gi-hun in the ending, if that’s a sequel hook I’m burning Netflix to the ground. Gi-hun’s only going to go down the same path in the end if he’s alone.

Yeah my real problem with the Hwang subplot is that his brother gets more focused than the host, who’s identity wasn’t really even on my mind? It was there but it wasn’t really a mystery who the host was, just that there was a host, if that makes sense. The foreshadowing is great I have no issue with it and it’s honestly the part I like most about the twist. It just felt strange that Il-nam was a banker? He makes money by lending money. He's the reason people are in debt in the first place and that never seemed to get the focus it deserved? Like after the twist things make more sense but I don’t know, it also became less about capitalism and debt and more about the human workings behind them. Can you trust people with all these things in the way? When you’ve got a gun to your head and someone willing to push you off a cliff?

That’s really what Squid Game seems to be about, when it’s got it’s last chance to make a point. Which is why comparing it to Parasite doesn’t seem to fit as well after watching it. That’s why Squid Game works because all of it’s characters are so well realized that the audience understands everything that led them to where they are. Parasite’s characters are more allegorical than anything. Sure capitalism is a driving factor in both, but again they��ve got different points to make. Basically if you watched Squid Game you gotta end up being the person helping the homeless man at the end or you learned nothing, if you don’t respect him as his own person and understand that what led to homelessness isn’t personal failing then you learned nothing.

In conclusion Squid Game slaps.

#squid game #uhhhhhhh #if you didnt know im an english major hopefully you know now #also i hope this is accurate and makes sense #i dont think im off base but also its hard to tell sometimes #movie analysis

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coronashmorona · 5 years

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COVID-19 Isolation:

Day 0

For a day & a half, my husband (hereinafter “Hubs”) & I pondered (read: lowkey argued about) the boundaries & limitations we should be imposing on our selves & our kids given the increased prevalence of coronavirus in our area. Was avoiding everyone all weekend really necessary? Can we eat takeout food? Should our kids go to school on Monday? What about after-school activities? What about the fantasy baseball draft we were supposed to host next weekend? Or the slew of small children’s birthday parties scheduled for the coming weeks?

Hubs was already planning on working from home, which he does often the last few years after his firm moved to a “hoteling” style office. My work is very flexible part-time & gets done whenever I can fit it in around everyone else’s schedules, i.e. can also take place from home if needed.

Then, today, we got word that all local schools will be closed for 2 weeks. So at least that’s settled.

Now, we’re confronting the challenge of how to go about our daily lives under these strange new circumstances. Namely:

The need for some kind of scheduled routine. We have a first-grader & a preschooler. They are absolutely wonderful, but go entirely bonkers if we’re home without any structure. They’re also in completely different places as far as personality, temperament, & educational needs.

First-grader (hereinafter “6yo”) is kind of a high-strung, type-A, preintellectual. She needs a full briefing about what’s happening every hour of every day. If plans change, she has a million questions about what the alteration entails. (If she’s conscious, she has a million questions, period.) She enjoys so many great activities - artistic pursuits, imaginative play, dancing, & really anything else that involves running around like a banshee - but constantly asks for TV time and/or a snack anyway. Historically, it’s been nearly impossible to set her up with an activity & walk away for more than 10 minutes; she’s just the sort of kid who needs/expects an adult caregiver to provide companionship, guidance, & answers at all times. I’m hoping that having an agenda mapped out for each day will remind her of school & she’ll be more amenable to doing things independently for a relatively short, set amount of time. I can also meet her halfway & do my work at the dining room table while she embarks on a quiet activity. Finally, it sounds like the school district is hatching a contingency plan for remote student learning, complete with daily homework posted online, which is comforting to say the least.

Preschooler (”4yo”) is a rambunctious ball of energy, but tends to be pretty easygoing overall. If left to his own devices, he’ll wander over to his trains or his blocks or even a book & play on his own. The problem, of course, is that when left to his own devices for too long, he’s probably up to no good. His favorite pastime of late has been playing in Hubs’s office, using some old printers & other computer accessories to “build Robot Marty” (a.k.a. the robot that roams the aisles at Stop & Shop). This activity will be mostly off-limits while Hubs works from home - a deprivation that I’m sure will be ill-received & spawn all sorts of disruptive discovery missions, i.e. let’s see what happens when we stick the end of Mama’s headphones into the electrical outlet. Oyyy. My hope is that if I break out some toys he hasn’t used in a while, & a few shiny new (read: held in abeyance since his birthday) ones, he’ll amuse him accordingly while 6yo & I do our thing.

Getting fed. I am really, really nervous about consuming commercially prepared food right now. The chances of contracting COVID-19 from it are small, but it doesn’t seem worth the risk. As it is, I’m a bit of a DIY food purist, frequently eschewing restaurant food for my own creations. I have a whole separate blog detailing my experiences with Whole30, in which I take my appreciation for clean-eating to the max in order to improve my health. Tl;dr I cook a lot of fresh veggies & lean meats & try to minimize the amount of processed foods in my diet. Doing this is hard enough under ~ordinary stressful circumstances, let alone a global pandemic. I’ve already slid into some unhealthy reflexive stress-eating that needs to be curtailed ASAP.

The biggest point with this, I feel, is establishing a meal+snack schedule. Else, the kids will constantly be asking for things to eat, interrupting any hope of sticking to a playtime/learning/physical activity schedule. On certain days spent mostly at home, I feel like all I do is stand in the kitchen cutting fruit, & we will not survive the next few weeks if that’s how it’s gonna be. Granted, this is sometimes exacerbated by my own penchant to use a free minute here or there to chop & roast some Brussels sprouts or eggplant. But there has to be a point at which “oh look, Mom’s in the kitchen” doesn’t automatically translate to “let’s give her something else to do”.

A possible strategy to alleviate this involves cutting a bunch of fruit in advance, portioning it out, & storing it on a fridge shelf the kids can reach, so they can get it themselves. I don’t want to deprive them of food; we just feel that they shouldn’t be eating a constant stream of processed garbage. This is a particular risk for 6yo, who has the metabolism & appetite of a hummingbird & openly fixates on the constant quest for treats.

Dealing with life’s other extenuating circumstances. As others with young children can likely attest, our life is constantly in several different states of flux, limbo, and/or disarray. Some other things we’ve been dealing with lately and/or will be dealing with shortly:

Hubs’s dad is having a hip replacement tomorrow. Several people tried to talk him out of it, but he’s been having terrible sciatic pain for a long time & as long as the surgeon/hospital will have him he feels he needs to go ahead with it. Who will take care of him afterward, & whether/when we can visit, remain uncertain. LATE-BREAKING UPDATE: surgery cancelled. A relief insofar as one variable eliminated.

Last week I definitely herniated/tore something in my abdominal area while pulling the kids in a wagon, & need to see a doctor for that. I’m not thrilled with the idea of being in a highly-trafficked public place, but I also don’t want to put off getting myself looked at & aggravate the injury in the meantime. As it is, I’m trying not to lift heavy things (e.g., our 4-year-old) or spend too much time on my feet, but that in itself is a struggle. Right now my appointment is scheduled for a time at which Hubs has a very important (virtual) work meeting, so I need to reschedule it and/or find someone else who can watch the kids. I’m praying for the former outcome because it begs the question “Who should we be letting in the house?!”

We’re in the early stages of renovating our kitchen. This means that we’ve met with a few designers/contractors about possible layouts & options, inching towards finalizing a plan & selecting one of them to carry it out. It sounds like Hubs wants to move ahead with this process as before, but suffice to say my mental bandwidth is now sufficiently occupied with other shit.

I’m always in the middle of 187 different things, & it feels like they’re all now on hold: purging the house of outgrown clothes & toys, organizing the basement, learning German, catching up on continuing legal education credits,

Processing the fear + existential woe. None of us have ever lived through anything like this. It is fucked up. I try to take comfort in the fact that the isolation protocols are empowering: by staying away from others who might be carrying the disease, we’re taking control of an uncertain situation.

But there’s still so. much. uncertainty. Right now, the kids are scheduled to go back to school March 30th. Then their spring break will start on April 8th, to coincide with the start of Passover (as well as Holy Week & Easter). Last year, we hosted a seder for 18 people. Can we do that this time? I have tickets to one concert (locally) in late April, & to another (abroad) in early June - will either one actually be happening?!

These are, decidedly, #firstworldproblems. But I think I join the rest of humanity in being utterly pissed off & daunted by the whole ordeal. Until another few weeks pass, all we can do is wait. And wash our hands a lot. 🧼 💦 🙏🏼

#covid19 #coronavirus #social distancing #self isolation #parenting #kids

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loretranscripts · 5 years

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Lore Episode 2: The Bloody Pit (Transcript) - 23rd March 2015

tw: death, claustrophobia, racism (H. P. Lovecraft), ghosts

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

Most people are afraid of the dark, and while this is something that we expect from our children, adults hold onto that fear just as tightly; we simply don’t talk about it anymore. But it’s there, lurking in the back of our minds. Science calls it nyctophobia, the fear of the dark, and since the dawn of humanity our ancestors have stared into the blackness of caves, tunnels and basements with a feeling of rot and panic in their bellies. H. P. Lovecraft, the patriarch of the horror genre, published an essay in 1927, entitled “Supernatural Horror in Literature”, and it opens with this profoundly simple statement. “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown”. You see, people fear the unknown, the what-if, and the things they cannot see. We humans are afraid of the dark. We’re afraid that our frailness and weakness might become laid bare in the presence of… whatever it is that lurks in the shadows. We’re afraid of opening up places that should remain closed. We fear what we can’t see, and sometimes, for good reason. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

The Berkshire Mountain Range in Western Massachusetts sits in the very top left corner of the state. It’s not the Rockies by any stretch of the imagination, but in 1851, those hills were in someone’s way. The Troy and Greenfield Railroad Company wanted to lay some track that would cut through the mountains, and so they begun work on a tunnel. On the western end sat the town of Florida, with North Adams holding up the eastern end. Between those towns was about 5 miles of solid rock. This building project was no small undertaking, no matter how unimpressive the mountains might be. It ultimately took the crew 24 years to wrap things up, and came at the cost of $21.2 million. In 2015 money, that’s $406, 493, 207. See? It was a big deal. Monetary costs aside however, construction of the tunnel came with an even heavier price tag. At least 200 men lost their lives cutting that hole through the bones of the earth.

One of the first major tragedies occurred on March 20th , 1865. A team of explosive “experts”, and I use that term loosely because nitro-glycerine had just been introduced to America about a year before, entered the tunnel to plant the charge. The three men, Brinkman, Nash and Kelley (who, by the way, his first name was Ringo, which I think is just awesome) did their work and then ran back down the tunnel to their safety bunker. Only Kelley made it to safety. It turns out that he set off the explosion just a bit too early, burying the other two men alive. Naturally, Kelley felt horrible about it, but no one expected him to go missing, which he did, just a short while later. But the accidents? They didn’t end there.

Building a railway tunnel through a mountain is complex, and one of the features most tunnels have is a vent shaft. Constant coal-powered train traffic could result in a lot of smoke and fumes, so engineers thought it would be a good idea to have a ventilation shaft that extended from the surface above and allowed fumes and water to be pumped out. This shaft for the Hoosac Tunnel, as it became known, would be roughly 30ft in diameter, and eventually would stretch over 1000ft down and connect with the train tunnel below. By October of 1867 it was only 500ft deep. Essentially it was a really, really deep hole in the ground. To dig this hole they built a small building at the top which was used to raise and lower hoists to get the debris out, as well as a pump system to remove ground water. Then, each day, they would lower a dozen or more crazy, Cornish miners (not underaged kids, by the way, the other kind of miner) into the hole, and set them to work. You see where this is going, right? Please tell me that you see where this is going.

On October 17th, a leaky lantern filled the hoist house with natural gas, a naphtha, an explosive gas found in nature, and the place blew sky-high. As a result, things started to fall down the shaft. What things? Well, for starters, 300 freshly sharpened drill bits. Then, the hoist mechanism itself, and finally, the burning wreckage of the building. All of it fell five stories down the tunnel and on top of the 13 men working away at the bottom. Oh, and because the water pump was destroyed in the explosion, the shaft also began to flood. The workers on the surface tried to reach the men at the bottom, but they failed. One man was even lowered into the shaft in a basket, but he had to be pulled back up when the fumes became unbearable. He managed to gasp the words “no hope” to the workers around him, before slipping into unconsciousness. In the end they gave up, called it a loss, and actually covered the shaft. But in the weeks that followed, the workers in the mine frequently reported hearing the anguishing voice of men crying out in pain. They said they saw lost miners carrying picks and shovels, only to watch them vanish, moments later. Even the people in the village nearby told the tales of odd shapes and muffled cries near the covered pit. Highly educated people, upon visiting the construction site, reported similar experiences. Glenn Drohan, a correspondent for the local newspaper wrote that “the ghastly apparitions would appear briefly, then vanish, leaving no footprints in the snow, giving no answers to the miners’ calls”. Voices, lights, visions, and odd shapes in the darkness, all the sorts of experiences that we fear might happen to us when we step into a dark bedroom or a basement.

A full year after accident, they reopened the shaft, drained out all 500ft of water. They wanted to get back to work, but when they did, they discovered something horrific. Bodies… in a raft. You see, apparently some of the men survived the falling drill bits and debris long enough that they managed to build a raft. No one knows how long they stayed alive, but it’s pretty clear they died because they had been abandoned in a flooding hole in the ground. After that the workers began to call the tunnel by another name: the “Bloody Pit”. Catchy, right?

About 4 years after the gas explosion, two men visited the tunnel. One was James McKinstrey, the drilling operations superintendent for the project, and the other was Dr. Clifford Owens. While in the tunnel, the two men, both educated and respected among their peers, had an encounter that was beyond unusual. Owens wrote: “On the night of June 25th, 1872, James McKinstrey and I entered the great excavation at precisely 11:30pm. We had travelled about 2 miles into the shaft when we finally halted to rest. Except for the dim smoky light from our lamps, the place was as cold and dark as a tomb. James and I stood there talking for a minute or two and were just about to turn back when I suddenly heard a strange, mournful sound. It was as if someone, or something, was suffering great pain. The next thing I saw was a dim light coming along the tunnel from a westerly direction. At first I believed it was probably a workman with a lantern; yet, as the light grew closer, it took on strange, blue colour, and appeared to change shape, almost into the form of a human being without a head. The light seemed to be floating along, about a foot or two above the tunnel floor. In the next instant it felt as if the temperature had suddenly dropped and a cold, icy chill ripped up and down my spine. The headless from came so close that I could have reached out and touched it, but I was too terrified to move. For what seemed like an eternity, McKinstrey and I stood their gaping at the headless thing like two wooden Indians. The blue light remained motionless for a few seconds, as if it was actually looking us over, then floated off towards the east end of the shaft, and vanished into thin air. I am, above all, a realist. Nor am I prone to repeating gossip and wild tales that defy a reasonable explanation. However, in all truth, I cannot deny what James McKinstrey and I witnessed with our own eyes”.

The Hoosac tunnel played host to countless other spooky stories in the years that followed. In 1874, a local hunter named Frank Webster simply vanished, and when he finally stumbled up the banks of the Deerfield River three days later, he was found by a search party without his rifle and appearing to have been beaten bloody. He claimed he’d been ordered into the tunnel by voices and lights, and once he was inside, he saw ghostly figures that floated and wandered about in the dark. His experience ended when something unseen reached out, took his rifle from him, and clubbed him with it. He had no memory of walking out of the tunnel. In 1936 a railroad employee named James Impoco, claims that he was warned of danger in the tunnel by a mysterious voice, not once, but twice. I’m thinking it was Ringo, trying to make up for being an idiot. In 1973, for some unknown and god-awful reason, a man decided to walk through the full length of the tunnel. This brilliant man, Bernard Hastaba, was never seen again. One man, who walked through and did make it out though, claims that when he was in the tunnel, he saw the figure of a man dressed in old clothing of a 19th century miner. Again, not a kid. He left in a hurry, from what I’ve read.

Stories about the tunnel persist to this day. It’s common for teams of paranormal investigators to walk the length of the tunnel, although it’s still active with a dozen or so freight trains that pass through each day. There are rumours of a secret room, or many rooms, deep inside the tunnel. There’s even an old monitoring station built into the rock about half way through, though few have been brave enough to venture all the way there and see it. Those that have report more of the same: unexplained sounds and lights. Oh, and remember Ringo Kelley, our sloppy demolition expert who got his co-workers killed in 1865? Well, he showed up again. In March of 1866, one full year after the explosion, his body was found 2 miles inside the tunnel, in the exact same spot where Brinkman and Nash had died. He had been strangled to death.

Lore was produced by me, Aaron Mahnke. You can find a transcript of this show, including links to source materials, at lorepodcast.com. Lore is a biweekly podcast, so be sure to check back in for a new episode every two weeks. If you enjoy scary stories, I happen to write them. You can find a full list of my supernatural novels, available in paperback and ebook formats, at aaronmahnke.com/novels. Thanks for listening.

#lore podcast #podcasts #aaron mahnke #hoosac tunnel #h. p. lovecraft #massachusetts #hauntings #2 #transcripts

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meliecho · 6 years

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Hearts and Heroes: One Shot - chpt 7: Lifeline - part 2

Summary: Two alpha Somni face off, but there’s a catch that triggers the boss fight. Is this the end?

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Previously on Hearts and Heroes: One shot...

The six footsteps it took to cross the room to the pedestal lasted an eternity on their own. He got within an arms reach of the Somni-Demonling.

“No,” The words caught in Sun's throat. Her limbs were heavy. She couldn't move to stop him. “Mark, don't.”

Mark's eyes slid halfway closed as he let out a long breath in concentration.

When he looked up, he clasped his hands at the nape of his back, and tilted his head slightly to each side. “Finally. I’ve waited a long time to be in control again. Watching the world through his pathetic eyes is tiresome.”

Shadow’s pleasure at facing down the other powerful entity glinted in her blackened eyes. “Welcome back,” she purred his name like a venomous spell, “Dark.”

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And now, the conclusion...

He kept his hands behind his back in an air of superiority. “You wanted to see me. Well, here I am. Shadow, was it?”

“Yes,” pride filled her answer. “It’s an honor to meet the one who brought the great and annoying King of the Nerds to his knees,” she regarded him with caution, but confidence as one Alpha to another. “To be honest, I didn’t think he’d let you out so willingly. I’m surprised he’d put himself at risk just for this worthless girl.”

“He has a bleeding heart. It sickens me.”

She eyed his posture, and frowned slightly. “You’re…less than what I’d thought you’d be. What happened to your power? Where's that strength I sensed before?”

“Did you call me out just to insult me, or is there a point to this?” He slid his foot back, making her follow him one very slow step at a time. “Either tell me what you want, or get out of my sight.”

Shadow wouldn’t allow him to gain any distance. “Getting right to it. I like that. There is a point, actually. I wanted to look into the eyes of the one who suppressed him and see if you measured up to the hype. If you truly are my equal, or simply a poser lucky enough to catch that insufferable bastard on a bad day.”

“Satisfied?”

She made her call like someone judging an underdone steak. “You're weak, but not entirely disappointing.”

“I wish I could say the same about you.”

She chuckled. “A lesser being insulting me. Hilarious. You can't even leave your host. He still has control over you. Right now, you wouldn't stand a chance against me.”

His lips formed a thin line. “Right now, maybe. But my full potential will crush you.”

“I’ve kept her in a coma for a year. Do you really want to test me?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Gladly. But now’s not the time or place. Only a little bitch baby makes that challenge knowing they have the upper hand. Where’s the fun in that?” He stopped moving, dropping his voice to a sinister growl. “It goes to show how inconsequential you really are.”

“Spoken like a true asshole.”

“You expected anything less?”

She stepped up inches away from his face—two vipers facing off. A spark of rivalry crackled the air between them. “I don’t like you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” He paused. “Still, I am personally thrilled to meet one of my biggest fans; the colossal ice queen.”

Shadow’s expression morphed from confusion, to annoyance, to ‘pissed off.’

“Ah fuck it.” Mark dropped the act, hauled off and landed a right hook shot across its face.

Shadow reeled from the hit.

Its surprise provided the perfect chance for his next attack. “Zapdos! Go!” The explosive sound of an Ultra Ball burst to life at its feet.

He sprinted past it and tackled Sun to get her out of the way.

The light bulb jarred from her hands when she hit the ground and bounced along the surface, letting out a hollow ‘ping’ as it wobbled into the obtuse angle of the wall. Without her touch, the light faded down to a pale pinprick of yellow in the center –less than when she found it in the Barrens.

The Demonling shrieked within a flurry of electrical strikes. Bolt after bolt speared through to the ground, igniting the room in rapid strobe light pulses like a basement rave.

It slumped once the onslaught ended. Rivulets of steam drifted upward from its body, and haggard breaths rasped from its gaping mouth.

The room plunged into a blanket of night.

Sun stared wide-eyed at him. The warm light from the heart on his sleeve dyed the left side of his face and upper body pink. The pathetic color from hers was feeble in comparison. She’d noticed it before, but only without the light bulb present.

“Are you ok?”

The need to escape crashed through her. Thinking that monster she’d sensed still controlled him terrified her enough to blur her vision—a trauma trigger. She scrambled back on her hands, frightened of him. “Get away!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, whoa, hey whoa. Whoa. Easy. It’s me, I swear.”

“M-Mark...? ” that act was perfect. She’d believed it. “But…Dark… I thought you’d really caved.”

“I wouldn’t let that asshole out for its own birthday party.” He gave her a reassuring smile and touched her shoulder gently. “I’ve got it under lock and key, so don’t worry.”

Her normal reply to his performance—or what she thinks is normal—would have been ‘Damn, Skippy,’ but all her voice would produce was a small ‘meep’ of confirmation. This whole situation had her on edge.

“You,” Shadow’s voice heaved in rage in the darkness. “You bastard!”

Mark took up a defensive position in front of Sun, holding his right arm out in protection as he faced the darkened room.

“How dare you play me for a fool,” it growled low. “You’ll pay for that.” Shadow melted into the darkness.

“Oh boy,” His eyes darted in every direction, straining to use the illumination from their arms to see. He needed to get the light bulb back, but he couldn’t let Sun go yet, not when he’d finally coaxed the Somni-Demonling out of her body. He needed to weaken it before he could let it near her again.

Suspense creeped up his spine, brought to life by one of the few things he absolutely hated about horror games: Random chance. Being stalked in a dark enclosed space with no exit by a powerful enemy that will kill you if it attacks and your HP is low.

This scared him more now than any time so far on their entire journey. Her life was at stake if he failed.

The sound of it drifting through the room mirrored the flutter of silk in the wind.

He stood gradually, bringing Sun up with him. “Stay behind me.”

She gripped his shoulders, though he could feel her trembling.

Shadow’s cold, sadistic laugh bounced around the room, hiding its location and sending needles of fear through the two spirits.

His eyes and ears strained to track it, jolting toward each sound to keep it in front of him. This is what prey felt like being hunted by a predator. “Uh, I hate this,” he mumbled. “I hate this. I hate this. I hate this…”

A ripple of motion caught in his left peripheral within the halo of pink. He spun to meet it. It darted to his right. And then… silence.

He grit his teeth, his heart pounding, and his palms layered in cold sweat. His and Sun’s breathing sounded too loud. He swallowed.

Shadow lunged at him from the blackness. The ring of pink light cast a ghostly shade over its features and ignited the darklight in its eyes.

They screamed in surprised and lurched to the side.

Its cold hands clenched around his neck.

Air hitched in his throat. He snared its scarf, yanked it toward him, and plowed his fist into its gut. He thrust both hands between its arms, striking outward at its wrists to loosen its grip, and landed a sharp punch to its jaw.

Shadow disappeared into the darkness again.

Freed, he worried at his sore neck, breathing hard. Thank god he spent time in the training room to learn break-away tactics.

It circled them like a shark, craving revenge before returning to its host body. Its voice hummed in the void. “Two can play the deception game, Mark. I made sure she felt everything when I reached out to Dark. She had no choice. She knows the evil you hide, now.”

He sensed its eyes bore holes into him, and felt Sun’s grip tighten in shame.

“Your secret's out.”

“Five people already know. What's one more? Besides, now she knows I’m not lying when I say I understand. Good job, Shadow. You actually did me a favor.”

Shadow dove at him again.

He backpedaled, forcing Sun to do the same. An obvious idea hit him so hard he felt like he needed to go back to elementary school. “Sun, get the bulb,” he ordered.

She let go of his shirt.

“Go! Now!”

She dashed across the hexagonal room to the front angled walls where the bulb rested. The pinpoint light inside was almost imperceptible.

At a thought—like a feeling—he flicked his finger down in the air at chest level and called up his menu window.

The room burst into white screen-glare brightness. He jumped back in terror as it lit up Shadow’s face merely three feet from his own. “Ah! Fuckin’! Fuck!”

It shrank back from the light in an animalistic howl.

Stealing his chance, he hastily removed the slice of toast from his item list, closed it, and shoved it in his pocket.

Sun pulled the bulb into the circle of her arms, and stood. Its glow grew once more until the room was again filled with its golden hue.

Shadow’s hands curled into claws as it drew itself up.

Mark balled up his fists, and charged.

It avoided his first punch, but not his second, third, and uppercut. It staggered, whipping its head to the left from the impact. It didn’t use any skills on him, or even the shield. It might be strong enough to leave Sun for a modicum of time, but it still needed to manipulate her body to use her power.

He kept himself between her and Shadow as much as possible. He couldn’t let it retreat back into her. Not yet.

It swung at him, catching him in the gut, and grabbed a hold of his collar.

He pulled the silver dagger Wilford 'sold' to him before this mission from a hidden sheath at the nape of his back – Fate Sealer. Shadow’s previous distraction before his Oscar winning performance gave him the time he needed to pull it and the ultra ball from his inventory and hide them behind his back. He swept the dagger upward, across, down, up, and back.

Thick miasma poured from each cut like blood vapor.

Shadow shrieked at the last strike up its chest. It wavered drunkenly; stunned and gripping its own form as if to hold itself together.

Time to end this.

Mark devoured the toast. Its strength boost ability spread through him in a heartbeat, and before Shadow could retaliate with another attack, he launched his fist like a battering ram into its chest.

The Terrorling exploded in a burst of dense smoke. The Somni faded back to Sun. On its tail, the weakened Demonling converged in a spiral of dark energy back to the protection of her body to merge with the Somni again.

The force of the intrusion almost caused her to drop the light bulb. However, for now, she remained in control. Mark managed to severely damage the Demonling so much that it lost its ability to exist outside her. It was now fully dependent on her.

He knew there was precious time left before it would take control again. He sheathed the dagger, rushed over and gripped her shoulder. “You need to fight it. Look at me,” he cupped her small face in both hands. “Sun, look at me!”

Her gaze moved to meet his. She was already resisting the Demonling’s attempts to take over. “Mark,” her whisper quivered, “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he hushed, keeping the urgency, but draping a layer of empathy over his words. “Believe me. I know better than anyone what’s happening to you right now. I’ve felt that thing crawling through my head, too, and it’s scary as fuck. It becomes so loud that it’s the only thing you can hear, and it’s painful. I hear that same voice every day. Some days it’s louder than others, but it’s a voice that only you can control. You have the power to tell it to fuck off.”

“What it says, it—“

“Is wrong.” He covered the heart on her sleeve with his left hand. Faint pink light bled between his fingers and around the edge of his palm. “This is the mark of the hero. You have it because it’s proof that you are strong enough. Your heart is not dead. Wounded and torn, but not dead.”

Her eyes flicked to his left shoulder and the bright illumination on his own sleeve.

“You have something inside your heart that can’t be killed. It allows you to reach out to others and that’s what everyone sees. That power belongs to you and no one else. You’re stronger than that Terrorling is, and it knows that. That’s why it wants you to give up. You are the only one who can give the darkness power. You’ve made it this far, Sun. You’ve survived in the dream world for a year, and that alone proves you are more than what you think. I believe in you. You can do this.”

She heard him. Even though at this point, her control disappeared to the will of the Terrorling, his words still reached through to her. They echoed around her so clearly, she felt she could reach out and grab them if she tried. She looked up in the void, her knees pulled up to her chest.

I believe in you. You can do this.

In her mind, she reached out to the darkness.

Shadow gripped Mark’s wrist and twisted it tightly. “Nice try, Hero. Points for effort.” Using Sun’s skill, she summoned the shield again in a final arc blast that sent him careening across the room into the wall.

That toast gave him the strength to deal incredible damage and take that wraith down where it needed to be, but it also diminished his defenses. If he could see an HP bar, a good chunk of it would slide down into the red. Adding that might not be a bad idea.

His wrist throbbed in pain too real to be a dream.

“You don’t give two shits about her, so stop pretending that you care!” Shadow snarled. “You can't save her! Get that through your fucknormous head! Your only value lies in sustaining the existence of one of my kind that you allowed to form. You, like her, are just a Host. So, shut up and remember your true role.” She turned her back on him with as much attention as one gives a dying insect and approached the pedestal again. “You're not a hero. You never were. You're just a guy who got good at playing the game.”

That stung. But, like the rest of her words, he knew it was crafted to get under his skin. To hell with her, and her bitchery. He groaned, getting to his knees and clutching his ribs, “I won't abandon you to this thing, Sun, I swear it. I’m not going anywhere. I know you can hear me,” His teams’ voices got through to him when he was in her position, so he knew the same to be true with her.

“Funny you should say that,” Shadow spoke. “Yours was the last voice she heard before she fell asleep.” She turned Sun’s head slightly to face him. “And it’ll be the last one she hears for good. Ironic, isn't it.”

“Sun...”

The teleporter suddenly activated in a column of light shooting up from the floor by the back wall. Five damaged and weary people materialized within its core.

Red lay on his back with his head in Peach’s lap, knocked out.

Purple was out of magic energy, and had given Jade the last half heart in her inventory.

They were all out of assist items and ultra balls.

“Mark!” Blue scrambled over to her friend and knelt by his side to help him up.

His heart soared at the sight of them. They were all right. He had confidence in his team to be able to not die. “What took you guys so long?” He pulled up his menu and removed the half and full hearts he had left, along with a bottle of hot sauce. He pushed a full heart against her collarbone, then gave her the rest. “Give these to the team.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Here.” Blue pressed one of the full hearts against his chest and let it melt through to work to heal his injuries before he could object. He was part of her team, after all, and the leader, she had just as much responsibility to him as to the others. She hurried back to help her friends.

Red coughed from the hot sauce. “Fuck me. I hate this stuff.”

“How are we alive?” Jade looked around.

Blue spotted the girl in the center of the room. “Sun...” She raised her voice, “Sun, we’re here! We’re not going to let you fight alone!”

Mark got back to his feet and joined his team, who all struggled to get back up. They’d fought an intense battle, and it showed.

“Those black squares started appearing everywhere. Thanks to Purple’s light, we avoided them, and we figured it out,” Peach softly said to Mark. She helped Jade to their feet. “This world is falling apart because it’s connected to Sun, and she’s losing the fight. That light bulb is her life. If she shatters it--”

“She’ll die,” He'd already put it together, but he didn't want to voice it. She'll succumb to the darkness for good, and Shadow will be in complete control. What's left of Sun will live in the void. If Sun wakes up from her coma, then what will exist in the waking world will be the darkest part of her soul. If she couldn't wake up, then Shadow will be free to do as she pleases in the dream world.

If taken literally, she'll loose her will to stay alive in this coma and her body will die.

His gaze fell on the long-haired figure at the pedestal. “I’ve done everything I can. I know I got through to her. It’s up to her, now.”

Shadow raised the light bulb. It ignored the newcomers. They were damaged, and wouldn’t last against it in a fight with Sun’s energy powering the only skill that girl learned in the dream world to protect herself –her shield.

It gave back enough control for her to make the decision on her own. Break it, the lambent tone of Shadow's whisper licked her mind. She felt the Somni-Demonling hybrid shift in eager anticipation. End your suffering.

These thoughts she'd heard all of her life were given a voice—her own ice-cold heartless voice.

“Sun!” Blue shouted. “Don't do it, please! We’re here for you!”

You smile, and laugh, and goof around, but inside you know it's all fake. You've been acting for so long, you don't know what being 'real' is anymore. Because you're not pretty enough. You're not talented enough. You're not passionate enough. You're not dedicated enough. You. Are not. Enough. So keep smiling. Keep faking it. Because the real you isn’t worth anyone’s time. You will forever be alone.

Black tears streamed down Sun's pale cheeks. She held the fragile light bulb high even as the glow from the heart on her sleeve faded.

This Demonling—a collection of her thoughts whispering to her for years—relished in the inner turmoil of its host. You are weak, but I am everything you could never be. I will give you the power you desire.

She thought of the beings she’d met in this world, and the other humans she’d come across in her year running from the darkness.

Do it. Shatter the bulb. Let me in and you won’t have to feel this pain ever again.

Her heart thundered in her chest. She had to do this. She had to finish it. Her frustration, anger, sorrow, fear, and the last shreds of bravery she owned boiled up into a scream from her soul that drowned out Shadow. The only thing she heard was Mark's powerful yet simple phrase rising above the rest.

'I believe in you. You can do this.'

She held onto that for every ounce her life was worth, and plunged the light bulb downward.

“No!” Blue rushed forward, arm outstretched. Tears pooled at her eyes. She couldn’t lose another one. Not again.

The light bulb clicked perfectly into the slot on top of the plinth. Sun quickly locked it down a half second before Shadow took control of her body again, slamming her to the back of her mind.

The bulb brightened, flooding the room with light.

Everyone shielded their eyes from the brilliance. They cringed, waiting to be forced back to consciousness if this dream ended.

Shadow’s wail of defeat deafened her. Sun sobbed within the void, terrified that her decision had killed her.

Rays of sunlight shot upward, amplified by the reflective surfaces of the hexagon room, and poured across the black sky.

The robots of the Barrens regained their power.

Flecks of daylight glistened off the vast ocean, and lines of crepuscular rays split through the phosphor trees of the Glen. The city was bathed in the breathtaking glow of the most powerful source of yellow phosphor in this world: Life.

Every black square it touched dissolved like sugar in water, restoring anything caught in them.

The world repaired itself within the first sunrise it had seen in a year.

It's purpose complete, the light bulb settled down to a less blinding level.

The dream travelers risked opening their eyes.

“No matter what you do, you’ll never be rid of me!” Shadow screamed with Sun's voice. “I am the only strength you have! You’re worthless without me!”

Sun stood within the void of her mind. “Shut up! I am not worthless! He believes in me, and I'll do everything I can to prove him right! Get out! Get out!”

Her force of will ripped the Demonling away from the Somni. Thick black ink oozed from her eyes to pool on the floor at her feet.

The weakened Terrorling writhed in the sunlight as a puddle of congealed goop. It screeched in rage and defeat. It bubbled and popped, evaporating into a thick miasma that swirled around her, too weak to break past her defense, and escaped through the open roof back into the dream world.

The Somni known as ‘Shadow’ suppressed in the back of Sun’s mind.

Sun exhaled, put back into control and her vision cleared. Her hands slipped from the light bulb wearily to the pedestal's surface.

“Sun,” Mark's voice filled the room despite its softness.

She dropped to her knees, exhausted, but lighter than she’d felt in forever…at least forever in the dream world. Her body felt full of adrenaline, and she was coming down off the fight-or-flight high. But if this was the dream world, she didn't have a body. In that case, what was it?

She wiped the residual gunk from her eyes with trembling hands. “Uch. Gross.”

Jade pumped their fist in victory. “Yes! F to pay respects.”

Purple side-eyed them. “Really.”

Blue knelt next to her. Scratches and bruises marred her exposed skin, and her dress was torn. “You did it.”

She lifted her head to look at Blue and the group of people behind her. They’d traversed this world in search of her, put themselves at risk, and fought the Terrorlings, but they didn’t give up on her. She was worth saving after all. New, clear tears traced the tracks of the dark influence. “I’m sorry. You guys got hurt because of me. You got dragged into this, and it's all my fault. I'm sorry.”

Blue wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “No, it's not your fault. You were crying out for help. We heard you, Sun. And we came to find you.”

Sun brushed long strands of hair out of her eyes and sniffled. “I don't deserve this.”

“Yes, you do,” Red said. “You deserve to have someone there for you. Everyone does.”

“But I'm a horrible person,” she sniffled.

“It's not wrong to want validation for who you are,” Purple added softly. “It doesn't make you a bad person. It's normal. It feels good when people appreciate you and let you know.”

“Yeah,” Red continued. “It's when you become obsessed with being defined by numbers that makes someone fucking shallow. I hate that.”

Sun shook her head. “I never wanted fame. That wasn't the point of any of it. I don't remember why, but I know that fame only takes the best part of someone and destroys it. I think...I think I've seen it happen, but I don't remember who it was. I just know I don't want it. I just wanted to be heard. I wanted to feel again, I wanted to be...”

“To be loved?” Blue offered gently.

Sun nodded, wiping at her eyes.

“I get that,” Mark's voice held understanding and empathy. “I really do.”

She pressed her palm to her forehead and slumped. “Damn. My head is killing me. I feel like someone ripped my spine out and shoved it back in with staples.”

Mark moved over to crouch down next to her. “Yeah, that's part of it. You're going to feel raw and tenderize for a while. You have to let yourself rest.”

“What about Shadow?” She whispered, looking him in the eye for a truth she knew he held.

He frowned. “It'll always be there.”

Her head drooped.

“But you have the tools to fight it now. And you're not alone anymore.”

“Yeah,” Jade smiled. “You've got us, now, and we're like herpes: once you get us, you can't get rid of us.”

“Gross,” Peach wrinkled up her nose.

“Kinda accurate, really,” Red shrugged.

“Enabler,” Purple poked him in the arm.

“He's not wrong,” Mark gestured lightly.

“We're like glitter. Better analogy, same end result,” Blue chuckled.

Sun watched this exchange that came so easily to them. They played off of each other, trusted each other, and could read each other even in simple moments like this. If one person suffered, the others empathized. If one of them felt joy, the others picked up on it, too. Through times of discord and happiness, they were connected—like a family. They were there for each other, and knew that even when they were by themselves, they were never alone. It was a phenomenon of connection she never knew existed in reality. She didn't know who any of these people were, but they accepted her. They welcomed her and assured her she wouldn't be alone anymore. They wanted her. She...her existence...finally held value.

Her chest burned from a well of emotions rising like a tidal wave that spilled out in a waterfall of tears. Overcome from her ordeal, and from the shock of having six people accept her, she did the first thing that came naturally; she threw her arms around the nearest person--Blue--and sobbed shamelessly into her clothes.

Blue wrapped her arms around her and let her cry. She sighed in relief. They'd done it. They'd rescued Sun.

Finally, this nightmare was over.

She felt the other girl's grip on her dress loosen and her body became heavy. The sobbing turned into uneven breathing. A knot tightened in her chest. “Sun? Sun!?” She noticed the heart on her sleeve dimmed so much even a nightlight could overpower it. It flickered. “What's happening to her?”

“Her heart's going out?” Jade bit their lip. “That's a thing?”

Mark's heart dropped into his stomach. He'd seen this before. It was something he would never forget, and never wanted to witness again. “Yeah, and it's bad. Very, very bad. We have to get her back to the Hub, now.” He called up his menu window, prayed, and tapped the 'Go Home' option.

A phosphorescent blue portal swirled to life next to the pedestal, adding its watercolor shade into the mix. Thank God it worked.

He lifted her across both arms and shifted so her right arm draped around his neck and her head rested against his shoulder. Her weight didn't matter. “Stay with me, Sun. You'll be ok. We're going home.”

“Home?” she whispered. She didn't think she had a home, but it sounded wonderful.

“Do whatever you can to stay awake.”

Sun closed her eyes and focused on the strong pink glow from his left arm that bled through her lids. It was warm and comforting. A new ache pulsed in her heart. She didn’t want to leave them. She didn't really know them, but because her mission was over, and she couldn't remember anything but this world, they were all she had. Blue, Red, Jade, Peach, Purple, and Mark—she treasured them so much it hurt. Yet even so, the painful feeling of letting people in and opening her heart warmed her core. It was frightening and amazing.

She needed to live for them and for herself.

Blue lead her team through the portal and let it close on the final decision of its dreamer, forever left to shine in the dream world.

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

TBC

Prologue: A Light in the Darkness

Chapter 1: Weekend Warriors

Chapter 2: Something’s Suspishy

Chapter 3: Chasing the Sun

Chapter 4: The Nightmare’s Truth

Chapter 5: Light and Shadow

Chapter 6: Lifeline - part 1

Chapter 7: Lifeline - part 2

Chapter 8: Phantom Power

Chapter 9: Mark’s Past

Chapter 10: A Second Chance

Chapter 11: Learning to Breathe

Epilogue: Ad Infinitum

#hearts and heroes #markiplier #darkiplier #fanfic #fanfiction #sun #shadow #boss fight #one shot ending #Mark has to face a boss on his own #and face his fears #The team is getting their asses handed to them by a horde of terrorlings #will they make it to the summit in time? dramatic music plays

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lievbios · 5 years

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American Horror Story || James Patrick March

Name: James Patrick March

Age: 34

Relationship: Married [verse depending]

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Job:

Faceclaims: Evan Peters

James March is a serial killer and designer of the Hotel Cortez.

James Patrick March was born on October 30th, 1895 in the Eastern United States. He started killing in the 1920s, and in 1925, he built the Hotel Cortez, which opened on August 23 of 1926. Having constructed a number of secret rooms and hidden hallways to carry out his twisted hobby of murder, James used the hotel’s infrastructure to hide all evidence of his life as a serial killer, creating blocked hallways and bricked rooms to make killing more fun and keep his victims’ bodies for further acts of depravity, as well as concealing their bodies from the police. His wife, Elizabeth, loved hearing his victims screaming for help and encouraged his dark desires, much to her own amusement.

Oftentimes, James took great fun in the art of murder, killing his victims in a number of playful, thespian-esque ways (i.e. decapitating them via a bloody game of cricket and walling them up alive, among other gruesome methods). He would then have sex with their dead bodies before throwing their remains down a series of chutes that were hidden in each room, which led to a dungeon in the basement that he used to store corpses.

March confessed he had tried many drugs in his time. However, none could satisfy him; it led to his serial murder addiction. He was also said to be a man of “new money”, meaning he made his own fortune, to which he added he did at an early age. He described his father as being a true believer in God, but the “meanest son of a bitch [he’d] ever seen”. March despises religion, explaining to one of his victims that it was the worst thing in the world right before he killed him. He states he was going to have to kill God, because as long as there was a God, men like himself would never find peace. He also went as far as to collect all the bibles from the hotel bed stands and arrange them with a pile of his victims - slaves that were working on the Sabbath - to leave behind for the police; the first killing in the Ten Commandments murders.

On February 25, in the early 30s, the police came to the Hotel Cortez to arrest March after receiving an anonymous phone call (from his faithful minion, Miss Evers) assuring them that March was responsible for the first Ten Commandments murders. When Miss Evers told him that the police arrived at the Cortez in search of him, he decided to kill them both by letting her choose which way to die - with a knife or with a gun. She decided to let him kill her (because she was secretly in love with him) as his last victim, and after shooting her, he sliced his own throat. He became one of the most famous serial killers of all time; the ghosts of his victims and himself have remained trapped in the Cortez ever since.

When John Lowe visited the Hotel Cortez in 2010 for a night of drinks, he encountered Donovan, who took it upon himself to invite the detective to “a party upstairs”, thereby interrupting March’s monthly dinner with The Countess. March was enraged at the interruption, but quickly became intrigued regarding homicides investigated by John earlier in the day. March was so impressed by John that he sent The Countess away in order to spend more quality time with the officer, who commented on how out of place and time March seemed. March explained it as a discomfort with the modern world, keeping John oblivious of his true nature as a ghost. He went on to muse about John’s “jet black aura”, which he claimed signified either a cloaked identity or a dogged determination. Over absinthe, John and March talked for 2 days, until eventually John passed out. In a matter of moments shortly after, March discussed John’s potential as a protege with The Countess, whom he asked for assistance in pushing John “into the abyss” to make him his successor as the Ten Commandments Killer, as to enforce John to carry out the remainder of his unfinished legacy[1].

Mr. March is an attractive young man in his early thirties, with a fit physique. He is very immaculate of his outward appearance, always wearing pinstripe suits in 30s style. His black hair is combed back, and he has a mustache like that of Vincent Price or Howard Hughes, with striking dark brown eyes. An interesting element of him is his strange accent, reminiscent of the Brahmin accent.

He has a distinctly sadistic personality, seemingly finding great pleasure in releasing a deadly rage onto his victims as well as having sexual intercourse with them during their murders, which occur in ways quite theatrical. He states that he was strongly influenced by his father, a fervently religious man, who sparked in him a profound aversion to the Christian values. He murders, in part, so as to wage a personal battle against God, nihilistically speaking. Despite this, he is also quite charming, finding joy in the company of the pupils he taught to be notorious serial killers during their times alive (i.e. Aileen Wuornos, Jeffrey Dahmer) and taking great pride in their successes. During the events of Devil’s Night, when his former colleagues raise their glasses to him in salutation, he is deeply gratified and brought to tears, stating that he could not be happier that their homicides will forever be ingrained in history and pop culture. Among them, he shows a high opinion of John, describing him as having a “once in a generation rage” that enabled him to complete James’s unfinished work as the Ten Commandments Killer - an act with which none of James’s other proteges were capable.

He has a complicated relationship with his ex-wife, Elizabeth, The Countess, with whom he hosts monthly dinner arrangements despite believing that it was she who turned him in to the police back in the 30s, ultimately culminating in his murder-suicide. He is aware that Elizabeth does not love him, yet in his time alive he brought her wealth and jewels to her heart’s content, hopeful that in doing so he could move her and change her feelings about him, to no avail. He continues to show her all the manners of a gentleman, however - offering her drinks, pushing her in her chair, asking her about her days in the world beyond the hotel’s confines, and nonchalantly talking about the people they’ve both killed - in the hopes of earning some semblance of her affection. He describes their brief time together as a reprieve from his ghostly state, possessed of a profound loyalty and respect for his former bride that has carried over even in death. He values Elizabeth more than Miss Evers, his partner in crime, stating to her that while he is delighted by her work as his maid, Elizabeth is a “creature from Heaven” that has far surpassed her in every way. He later berates Miss Evers after she remarks that Elizabeth should be mindful of the time she’s expected for supper, angrily retorting that “the lady of the house deserves more respect!” and commanding Miss Evers “should be elsewhere”.

Elizabeth, however, openly resents James, criticizing him for his delusions that the two of them can once again be a couple, and admonishing him for the compulsive behavior she sees as pathetic and weak. When James asks her to hypnotize John as a means of driving him to insanity, thereby enabling him to continue James’s unfinished work as the Ten Commandments Killer, Elizabeth responds, “And why would I help you when it gives me so much joy to see you suffer?” After informing James of her plans to marry Will Drake, she demeans his affection for her, stating, “I’ve always been scrupulously honest with you James. I never pretended more than I felt. And I never claimed to love you”. James is both aggravated and disappointed by these remarks, but refuses to believe that Elizabeth feels nothing for him, vowing not to kill her directly lest he sacrifice the opportunity of “eternal happiness” with her.

holds his annual Devil’s Night soirée every year on the night before Halloween, an evening where he brings America’s greatest serial killers who have ever lived together to celebrate their crimes. 2015 is no exception and the guest list is ready. When Richard Ramirez arrives, he is welcomed by the sight of a tourist family for him to kill as a gift from March. When trying to kill the wife, she runs screaming from the room, where she encounters March in the hallway. Her pleas for help prompt him to hold her and invite his compatriot to finish her off.

VERSES

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downthatrabbitholewego · 8 years

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December 4-31, 2016

So I got caught up in the holidays, Real Life™ things, and so on, and now I'm super behind on posting this. Oops. Anyway, here goes a very long list, which covers most of December. :) This is a compilation of fics that I've read/re-read over the past weeks. Faves get a star ( ★ ). There is also a separate fic rec page for my favorites HERE. ♥

WEEK: December 4-31, 2016 | (previous weeks)

▶▶ A Certain Romance by Vendelin Teen And Up | 2,967w Stiles is in college and has heard a lot of things about Derek Hale, without actually meeting him. Well, that's until he does of course, and Derek seems to be everything Stiles assumed he was, and yet not at all.

▶▶ A Crown of Mistletoes and Laughter by howl-to-the-wind (greenleaf) ★ Teen And Up | 3,538w Stiles had been content to work towards studying to become a Druid and taking up his parents’ mantle as the ambassador for and guardian of the Hale Kingdom's South Border. He thought his life was set. But then, Derek and his children happened in his life.

▶▶ A Pirate's Life For Me by Hepzheba Explicit | 42,609w The Sheriff's department of Beacon Hills is finally getting a K-9 unit. Stiles is thrilled. Well, he would have been if he had remembered that they were starting today. He wishes someone had reminded him. He also wishes someone had informed him that his new colleague and the one who's going to help them start the K9 unit is smokin' hot. Or that is new partner in form of a dog kind of lives to disobey him. If this doesn’t work out he hopes his dad will write him a letter of recommendation to a department somewhere in Alaska. There are no real pirates in this story.

▶▶ A Slight Problem by kaistrex (weishen) General | 5,839w The Hale family dog takes a shine to seven-year-old Stiles.

▶▶ A Wolf in My Bed, A Man in My Heart by sterekanigans Teen And Up | 7,332w It's not everyday that you adopt a pet wolf, but for Stiles, newly crowned King, perhaps it is exactly what he needs.

▶▶ Absence Makes the Holes Grow Wider by batwynn ★ N/A | 4,928w Stiles breathes in deeply, and watches a seagull silently drift above him. The cold air is sharp in his chest, but it feels like freedom and the right choice. He breathes out and it doesn't hurt anymore. Yeah, he made the right choice.

▶▶ Adventures and Explorations Series [1] A Simple Life by Survivah Teen And Up | 13,763w Derek plans to spend the rest of his life holed up in the woods after Laura dies. Then he meets a stubborn young fox, and the stubborn young fox meets an urn of Deaton's magic powder, and his plans change [2] Finding Miracles by Survivah Mature | 16,581w Stiles was planning on just being a fox for his entire life. Then, well, magic, true love, blah blah blah, things got complicated. But as it turns out, he still has a lot to learn about this new world he's living in. Humanity, man. It's weird.

▶▶ All I Want (Wrapped and Unwrapped) by fauvistfly Mature | 2,098w 5 times Stiles gets a pretty good idea of how well-endowed Derek is +1 time he gets to see it in all its glory. Also included: excessive holiday puns, embarrassing amounts of blushing, and lots and lots of dick thoughts.

▶▶ Always Had the Key by Omni ★ Teen And Up | 3,304w Years after Derek's left Beacon Hills, he runs into Stiles at a conference for werewolves and their emissaries. While they both have changed a lot, some things still remain the same.

▶▶ Ash Buried Under Snow by Kitty_KatAllie Teen And Up | 5,879w Stiles Stilinski, aged 19, has been raised by the Argent family since his twelfth year. While he may not be the worst Hunter to ever Hunt, he has a few secrets (and quirks) that keep him from truly fitting into the life of his adoptive family. He's great at faking till he makes it, that is until the day a new Hunt is named just in time for Christmas... and it's the same name as the one written onto his body. And soul.

▶▶ But Then What... by Stoney [Note: Restricted. AO3 account is required.] Explicit | 24,343w Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him. Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

▶▶ Cornerstone by Vendelin Explicit | 83,738w Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

▶▶ fancy meeting you here by bibliosexual Teen And Up | 1,870w Instead of the kind of mass dance party in a dark, sweaty basement he’d been expecting, he was faced with a handful of people sitting around on the floor of Erica’s living room in T-shirts and jeans (and the one guy in the Captain America suit), eating pizza off paper plates and playing Cards Against Humanity. An iPod dock by the door was belting out ""Hooked on a Feeling.” There were a few red and black balloons floating in a corner, and a snack table against the wall laden with pizza boxes and chips and dip. It felt pretty much exactly like all the parties Stiles had ever been to in high school. Except that those parties had never featured a (hot) guy who looked up when Stiles came in and raked curious, appreciative eyes down Stiles’ body before meeting his eyes, smirking, and going back to studying his cards. Holy shit.

▶▶ First Comes Love by MelodramaticSalad Teen And Up | 5,316w Laura ropes Derek into taking his six year old daughter on a play date. She meets Stiles' son and the play date quickly changes everyone's lives for the better.

▶▶ For Goodness Cakes by yodasyoyo Teen And Up | 3,462w Stiles eats a lot of cake. Derek's communication skills are lacking. And they bitch and snark their way to a happy ending.

▶▶ Future Dreams by littlefrog1025 Explicit | 74,773w Stiles accidentally summons he and Derek's children from the future to the present.

▶▶ Gonna Write a Classic by jezziejay Mature | 6,067w The sexploits that Stiles writes about aren’t autobiographical. There’s never been anything overtly salacious about his own sexlife, nothing that was ever going to be screenplayed for a porno, but he still has a very creative imagination to work with. Usually.

▶▶ guess who by haleofStilesheart General | 4,140w The annual Christmas office party at Hale and Associates Law Firm was one of Stiles’ favorite times of the year.

▶▶ Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by mikkimouse Teen And Up | 1,123w Prompt: "You're in the hospital for the holidays so I came in while you were sleeping to decorate your room I love you Merry Christmas."

▶▶ hope is the thing with feathers by ShanaStoryteller Teen And Up | 28,959w Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.

▶▶ Hotter Than Coffee by Dexterous_Sinistrous General | 3,060w "So, is there a reason my son's phone number is on my coffee, and he wants me to call him?" The Sheriff questioned as he looked up over his glasses at Derek.

▶▶ I Have Faith In Nights by DaintyBoots Mature | 35,808w Derek had always thought his ability to pick up strays was a bit of a hindrance. But then he met Stiles.

▶▶ if i built you in miniature by keskasi ★ Teen And Up | 6,836w Derek quietly loves Christmas and is not afraid to wear the sweaters to show it. He hosts a children's TV show about science and history, builds model trains, and is painfully awkward. Stiles works in a Hallmark-type store that sells Christmas decorations and model train pieces, and might have an unhealthy appreciation for sweaters. Of course he was going to fall for Derek. Of course he was.

▶▶ If You Liked It Then You Should've Put A Ring On It by tumblweedblr N/A | 2,000w Dedicated to that moment when you see someone cute... and then see that they’re wearing a wedding ring.

▶▶ I'll Get Over This in a Lily Bit by Veera_Kara General | 2,053w So Derek has been Stiles’ number uno enemy since like day ONE okay nothing aggravates him more than seeing Derek’s dumb jock pretty boy face every morning of every day of high school. In fact, Stiles hates that fucker SO much that he's been on a quest to give Derek the most fucked up flower bouquets for his girlfriend that secretly mean "I hate your guts" or "you smell like a toilet" or whatever.

▶▶ Important Things by suzvoy Mature | 71,466w Stiles learns that even with werewolves, giant lizards and psychopathic hunters on the loose, life can still find other ways to screw with you. Case in point: everyone keeps assuming he and Derek are a couple. What the hell?

▶▶ Inevitability (About Damn Time) by accordingtomel Explicit | 9,707w "My dad thinks Derek and I are dating, Scott. Did you miss that part?"

▶▶ Keeping Up With The Stilinskis by hales-republic N/A | 2,070w He understood the meaning of balance; how to prioritize his kid, his career, and spend time with his friends. He learnt how to not lose his mind every time he caught Luke trying to sneak out of the house (during these times, he also learnt how to ignore his dad laughing uproariously muttering something about apples and trees). What he hasn’t learnt is how to react when his kid–his fifteen-year old kid–comes home with a deputy. He still doesn’t know how to react and more importantly, what to react to first. The fact that Luke potentially fucked up so hard he had to get escorted home by a cop or that the cop looked downright murderous and Stiles still found that attractive."

▶▶ Learn to Love Again by Tetota N/A | 3,811w While Derek and his pack of four learn to leave normal lives in New York, Derek realizes that his feelings for Stiles are different than he thought.

▶▶ Lift me up by Marishna Teen And Up | 1,698w Derek grudgingly met the eyes of the other man as the elevator doors slowly slid closed. He wasn’t prepared for how open and earnest his honey amber eyes were and Derek felt something stretch and tug inside of him.

▶▶ Like James Dean, Only Sadder by 42hrb Teen And Up | 3,809w The star of the Beacon Hills High School baseball team and Beacon Hills resident bad boy probably have nothing in common, right?

▶▶ Little Cabin in the Woods by trenonny N/A | 2,545w "Your grandmother is baba yaga." There was a growl in the statement, but a quiet one because the woods were silent, the sky was grey with clouds, and who knew just how well a witch straight out of Slavic folklore could hear.

▶▶ Love At First Drink by gryvon Mature | 4,916w Derek wakes up with dozens of comments on an Instagram photo he doesn't remember taking with a stranger wearing the engagement ring he bought for his girlfriend. Kate is not pleased. Stiles thinks it's hilarious.

▶▶ love is a weird thing by trilliastra Teen And Up | 882w Prompt: "Straight guy worries he's being homophobic to gay roomate, realizes he's fallen in love with him"

▶▶ Loyalty In Their Blood by team_freewill Teen And Up | 5,831w When Stiles starts dating the new boy at school, Derek begins to withdraw from the pack. Stiles tries his best to figure out what the Alpha's problem is and get them back to normal.

▶▶ Movie Wolf by dragon_temeraire Teen And Up | 3,727w Derek is an acting wolf, taking on a new movie role with up-and-coming actor Stiles Stilinski. Things don’t go quite the way he expects.

▶▶ New Traditions by baneofawolf (InTheArmsofaThief) ★ General | 4,576w Stiles fiddled with his phone, absently closing and reopening the same app over and over. He'd been thinking about this day for months. Well, for years, if he was being honest with himself, but the actual plan for this actual day had only started forming a few months ago. He'd been thinking about this ever since he found out where Derek was.

▶▶ Not a Promise by eeyore9990 Teen And Up | 1,574w Promises can be broken. Stiles' love for Derek cannot. That's a fact. But maybe Derek needs to hear it anyway.

▶▶ Now There’s Your Pickup Line by leslieknopeismyspiritanimal Teen And Up | 2,326w Prompted from the screenshot of that cop on Tinder with the bio: "Ever shouted Fuck the Police? Well, here’s your chance."

▶▶ operation: bro parenting by allhalethekings General | 2,762w Stiles looks at him with wide eyes. "We should totally adopt a baby!"

▶▶ Political Animals by FiccinDylan Teen And Up | 8,042w It's the worst day in Stiles' life and the last thing he wants is to deal with Derek Hale's bullshit. Derek feels pretty much the same.

▶▶ practice makes perfect by bleep0bleep Teen And Up | 3,340w Derek doesn’t even need to think about it because he knows it’s a bad idea. He'll kiss Stiles and get to know what it’s like, and his heart will break because he won’t ever get to have him, that this is out of friendship only. But this might be his only chance.

▶▶ punitive acts by subnivean [Note: Restricted. AO3 account is required.] Explicit | 3,881w Two idiots, both alike in indignity, or something, whatever.

▶▶ R.A.P.I.L.A. by neko_fish Teen And Up | 7,198w The first time Stiles talks to Derek Hale, it's raining, it's pouring, and Scott went and ditched him to 'study' with Allison. (Thank you, best friend Scott.)

▶▶ Rare Books and Special Collections by KuriKuri Explicit | 15,288w In which Derek is a grumpy omega writer, and Stiles is an annoyingly attractive alpha special collections librarian.

▶▶ soft again by thedaughterofkings N/A | 612w When Stiles comes home from college there's a wolf in his bed.

▶▶ Sourwoof by DiscontentedWinter ★ Teen And Up | 4,407w A kidnapping, a head injury, and something about a monkey? Stiles is the most annoying person Derek has ever had the misfortune to be abducted with.

▶▶ Stuck in a Rut by shuglove [Note: Restricted. AO3 account is required.] Explicit | 2,121w Derek knows he’s an alpha, and the doctor thinks so too. He hasn’t gone into rut, and he’s nearly eighteen.

▶▶ Suspicious Minds by HaleHole (SweetFanfics) Explicit | 40,105w Separated from Laura after being cornered by some hunters, an injured Derek finds himself being rescued by Stiles and his young daughter. In more than one way.

▶▶ Tall Tails by Neaislove General | 4,825w The Warsaw Mermaid is a point of contention in Stiles' pod. He decides he should probably head topside to set some things straight.

▶▶ The Cintron Hall Situation by dragon_temeraire Teen And Up | 3,039w Stiles is freezing and miserable in his dorm, so he decides to knock on his hot neighbor Derek's door for help.

▶▶ The flamingo in the yard by Vendelin Explicit | 6,107w It isn't fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there's a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.

▶▶ The New Assistant by smokesforsterek Teen And Up | 11,130w "I don’t have an assistant," Derek barks out as he looks back to the pile of reports he needs to get done. After the last kid that tried to be his assistant left in tears after the first day, he’s decided he didn’t want an assistant at all anymore.

▶▶ the office by stilinskisparkles Teen And Up | 3,197w "Sure, I like him," Derek scowls right at the camera, "We're friends." He blinks, expression suddenly going hopeful, "Why, did he say something?" * "I have worked at Beacon Hills Office Supplies for two and a half years," Stiles pretends to hang himself with his tie, glances out of the conference room to where Derek is signing for a package with a suspicious look on his face. "It's not all bad, I guess?"

▶▶ The Road Hazards of Abs by Leslie_Knope Teen And Up | 1,482w There is a guy. A really hot guy, in fact, who has the audacity to jog on the sidewalk shirtless, as if Stiles has the mental capacity to deal with that at seven in the goddamn morning. He does not.

▶▶ The Scientific Method by uraneia Teen And Up | 5,947w Stiles has a lot of research to do. He decides Derek's kitchen is the place to do it. Derek probably regrets giving him a key.

▶▶ The Sound of Your Heart by Drapetomania ★ General | 8,980w Stiles has a 5 year plan of how to make Derek's life better and woo him in the process.

▶▶ The Weathered Shell by trilliath ★ Explicit | 14,356w The young man is standing with an arm casually thrown up to lean against the door frame, displaying his bare torso to advantage, his powerful swimmer's shoulders and lean body pale with moonlight. His cocky grin, however, is fading quickly into a look of shock and confusion. Other than a pelt shaped into a sloppy kilt, his legs are bare too, despite the chill winds coming in off the ocean. "You're not a girl," he says in a gently lilting accent that's like an odd blend of all the coastal voices Derek's ever heard, squinting at Derek like his eyes might somehow be deceiving him.

▶▶ These Stars Will Guide Us Home by anodyneer Teen And Up | 9,937w Derek fell for Stiles from the first time he saw him in a crowded planetarium, and the feeling was definitely mutual. For as well as they got to know each other over the weeks that followed, Derek still couldn't help feeling like a piece of the puzzle was missing - namely, the piece involving Stiles' home life. When Stiles disappears just before Thanksgiving break, Derek learns the truth about his boyfriend - and it's crazier than anything he could have imagined.

▶▶ This is my (not-)boyfriend you are hitting on by Hisagi90 General | 2,072w Stiles is really popular with a lot of their customers. But he's also known for dealing with 'bad' customers. Insert Derek, who looks like he's on his way to murder someone, and a crazy stalker that just won't leave him alone.

▶▶ This Started As Only Make Believe by thepsychicclam Explicit | 44,197w Derek is trying (and failing) to juggle his career, coach lacrosse, and raise his 5 year old werewolf daughter. When he adds his bitter ex-wife and his daughter's slight attachment to him, Derek knows he doesn't have any time for a life of his own - and definitely no time for the super cute daycare teacher.

▶▶ we should just kiss (like real people do) by i_am_girlfriday Teen And Up | 9,483w Stiles is the social zero of the sophomore class. Derek is the much cooler junior who befriends Stiles anyway.

▶▶ We've Never Met, But Can We Have a Coffee or Something? by cloudsarefluffy Teen And Up | 1,644w Today, instead of his regular, Erica gives him a soft smile alongside his surprise drink. Stiles returns the gesture as he grabs the cup, turning afterwards to see the man sulking in the corner as usual. With a deep breath, Stiles steels himself, and walks over to the guy’s table.

▶▶ What the Hell is a Stiles? by leslieknopeismyspiritanimal Teen And Up | 1,877w Prompt: Our mutual friend set us up on a blind date and I thought I'd hate it but you're actually... kind of funny? But because I expected to hate it in no way am I going to let you change my mind just because you're gorgeous and funny and intelligent oh no my friend is not winning this.

▶▶ Written Can't Be Denied by lookslikenico, winglesswarrior Teen And Up | 54,729w The story goes that, the first time you meet your 'soulmate', the universe will give you a sign in what should be the most obvious way - somewhere in your immediate vicinity the word 'soulmate' will appear. If reports of 'soulmates' are to be believed, rather than being written of as hopeful delusions, then this 'obvious' signal is anything but, fleeting as it is. The word seemingly only appears for a matter of moments and only when two people first meet. There is no guarantee that they will be looking in the correct direction to see it, nor that they will have any idea who their supposed 'soulmate' actually is. A fact that causes havoc the day that up and coming actor, Stiles Stilinski holds up a bottle emblazoned with the word 'soulmate' in the middle of a press conference where Derek Hale is working as a photographer, in the middle of the worst day of his life...

▶▶ You Can't Dodge Stiles Stilinski by stilinskisparkles Explicit | 27,250w "And what are you,” he points at the boy, trying not to look him in the eye, and failing. "A hundred and fifty pounds wet?" The boy smirks at him, and Derek looks resolutely away. He's now desperately trying not to picture him wet. "I can't work with this."

▶▶ You Make Me All Achy by Emela Mature | 10,965w The one in which Stiles is a merman, tries to drown Derek, but when he kisses him falls in love with him instead. (Oh, Stiles.)

▶▶ You're a Mess, But You're a Catch to Me by jsea Explicit | 11,634w The laws are clear: omegas are required to have an alpha guardian. So when the sheriff gets shot, Derek is roped in to stepping up as Stiles' temporary alpha while he recovers. Derek knew it was going to be a bad idea, but he never could have predicted all of the ways that Stiles would end up turning his life upside down.

▶▶ ;why are you barefoot? by failwolfhale General | 2,865w Derek is twelve years old and he’s outside with Laura when the scent catches them. They don’t even bother putting their shoes back on before running from the river where they’d been hunting for mudbugs. Derek clings to his sister’s hand, two weeks from being eighteen and as tough as they come. Twigs and rocks and thorns and roots tear into their feet as they run but the cuts heal as quickly as they acquire new ones and it doesn’t matter. By the time they get there, Peter is laying on the ground outside the house, unconscious with little Cora in his arms, protecting her from the flames that were licking up the wood of the house. Derek runs for it but Laura holds him back tightly, clinging to him, her blue eyes wide and frightened. Derek can hear their family inside and he wonders why Laura’s not trying to do something. That’s when a loud roar goes up, Laura collapses, and when she opens her eyes again they’re crimson red and Derek knows their family is lost to them.

▶▶ Untitled Tumblr Fic by sterektbh N/A | 3,491w The doorbell rings– probably the biography of Abraham Lincoln he ordered off Amazon. With a lazy stretch, Derek drops his book on the end table and gets up to answer the door– –and the world spins– –and he finds himself standing in a grimy, poorly-lit warehouse, staring down the barrels of at least six automatic rifles.

▶▶ Untitled Tumblr Fic by hoechlbutt N/A | 2,295w Prompt: Pack nights usually last a whole weekend in the renovated Hale house. One time Stiles forgets his pillow and Scott accidentally let everyone know Stiles can't sleep without it, Derek goes above and beyond to try and make something work, in the end his shoulder/hug does the trick.

▶▶ Untitled Tumblr Fic by whatthehellisahoechlin ★ N/A | 792w Stiles watches a proposal happening outside the restaurant he works at. Down on the pier below him, a man is down on one knee, asking the question to a another man with his back turned. Stiles holds his breath. He doesn’t know these people, but he’s invested in romance and grand gestures. He’s going to watch this play out.

▶▶ Untitled Tumblr Fic by pale-silver-comb N/A | 1,489w Prompt: "Right... Well... I'm not sure how we ended up kissing like that..."

- - - - -

#sterek #sterek fics #sterek fanfiction #read fics list #2016 - december

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whatdimissmotherfuckers · 8 years

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Maybe that’s the problem

THIS IS A SERIES. PART 2 Part 3

Word count: 2939

Summary: You go to one of philip hamiltons famous parties, and next thing you know, you wake up in his house. shit happens.

Au: Highschool Au

Pairing: Philip x Reader

Warning: Uh. French, mentions of sex??? but really just. the word, underage drinking/smoking (dont do drugs kids) i think thats it. Note:good god guys, I really loved writing this. Also, I always think of so much to say in the notes when i’m actually writing, but now i forgot all of it. No proofreading, we die like men. I love Georges, anyone wanna see a georges fic? AND Want this to be a multipart fic???? And yeah. I listened to Initiation from The Weeknd, so i recommend you do to. Even if it doesn’t have much to do with the story YET. And georges is sleeping with philip, im sure. (you will understand later) Enjoy. Thats it. Also thanks to @fanfrickinhamiltasticimagines for helping me with the name so philips generation. Check her out guys. She hella cool. Done. Oh. @lookaroundlookaroundhowlucky wanted to be tagged. okay im out.

"You've never been to a Hamilton-Party?!"

You couldn't help but giggle at your friend Abigail, her eyes were widened in shock. "I've already told you a thousand times I've never been to any parties, Nabby", you reminded her, before taking a seat next to the girl. Abigail lifted her shoulders, giving you a shrug. "Yeah, but the ones at Hamiltons’ are different. I didn't know you meant those too", she alleged, plunking down into the chair. Raising an eyebrow in amusement, you explained yourself. "I told you my parents are trying to prevent me from underage drinking at all costs. How was I supposed to find a way to go there anyways?" Your words made your friend twist her mouth. "Hmm", she hummed, hesitating. She seemed to be contemplating something, which made you curious in an instant. "What are you thinking about?", you asked her, shifting around in your seat. "Oh nothing", Abigail informed you, as a wide smile began spreading across her face, "I was just wondering what I should borrow you for tonight! We're gonna pay the Hamilton Estate a visit!" Reluctant, you crossed your arms. "I don't know. I mean, I'm not even invited. And if my parents would find out...", you didn't even bother to finish your sentence. Your parents were horribly strict and it already took you almost a week to persuade them to let you stay overnight at Abigail's home. "Come on, don't be such a party pooper! I'll be with you, and it'll be fun. Trust me!", she reassured you, grabbing your shoulder. "Nobody will find out! And you don't need an invitation! Everybody can go. Okay? Are you with me?" A deep sigh escaped your throat, before you slowly nodded. "I'm not gonna regret this, am I?", you joked, but all you received was a shrug, before Abigail left the room.

"I'm really, really sure, this is a bad idea", you decided, as you stood in the basement of the Hamilton Estate, which was designated as a party room. It was already packed with people, and you could barely see anything, because it was dark for the most parts. Diffused blue lights were place here and there, making you instantly uncomfortable with the shady surroundings. You could hear the distant voice of The Weeknd singing "Initiation", but you were pretty sure the music was supposed to be more loud and cheerful during normal parties. Abigail nudged you with her elbow, giggling in amusement. "Ohhh, are you scared?", she mocked teasingly, grabbing your arm. "Don't be, let's go over to Theo." Before you could complain, she was already dragging you across the room, making you almost trip. This was one of the rare moments of you wearing high heels, but Abigail insisted that they would fit perfectly into the occasion. Now that you could be the judge of that, you completely disagreed. Nobody would noticed them, it was far too dark to see anything. But at least they matched your purse, right? Beauty knows no pain. As you came nearer towards Theodosia, she was already waving you, a warm smile on her lips. She was one of your closer friends, which you were very thankful for, because she was an absolute cinnamon-roll and always cared for you. But seeing her here made you begin to wonder. You never deemed her for being someone who goes to parties. "Good to see you girls", she greeted the two of you, drawing you into a tight embrace, making you inhale the scent of her cologne mixed with the unpleasant smell of cigarettes. "Why are you here?", you inquired shamelessly, after she had let go of you. "Joseph dragged me here", Theo avowed, and made a gesture with her hand, pointing to a boy who was currently pouring a drink. Joseph was her boyfriend, and they were in a happy relationship for almost three years now. You gave a small nod, before you turned to the boy next to her, who wasn't engaging into the conversation at all.

He was taller than all of the girls, and as far as you could judge, he had a dark skin-colour, and short,dark locks, fitting his handsome face nicely. Constantly biting his lips, he didn't even seem to notice that you were staring at him, till you cleared your throat, which resulted in instantly having his darting eyes on him. "I haven't seen you around the school, who are you?", you asked him, trying not to drown out Abigails voice, because you didn't want to interrupt her dialogue with Theo. Giving you sheepish look, he put forth some words in a foreign language you couldn't understand. "Sorry, I couldn't understand you. Could you repeat yourself?” He nodded, carefully repeating what he said. It turned out he was only introducing himself and had a french accent. "Mon name is Georges Washington Louis Gilbert de La Fayette, nice to meet you." Your face was flushed with shame as you realized the foreign language was his name, and hastily gave him your name. "Yeah, I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N), nice to meet you too", you stammered, wanting to shake his hand, as he slowly lowered himself to your height to kiss your cheeks. Struggling to speak, you just fidgeted with your hands, making him understand that you weren't used to the french etiquette. "Oh, je suis désolé! I forgot that you Americans don't greet", he said, scratching the back of his head. "It's okay", you assured him, after your cheeks had taken on a normal colour again. "You're french?" His eyes sparkled at your words, making both him and you smile. "Yes! I'm an exchanged student and I sleep with him!" Georges pointed at a boy on the other side of the room, who immediately caught your eyes. You wanted to correct Georges funny English, but instead your gaze was fixed on the person he had pointed to. You were amazed by his handsome freckled face, and the wild, long curls, framing his face in a perfect way. Sitting relaxed on of the couches, he was surrounded by a group of people, mostly consisting of girls,and held some sort of glass in his hand. For a moment, his sharp eyes met yours and you felt your heart racing almost immediately.

Feeling someone tapping your shoulder, you swiftly shook your head, before turning towards the person interrupting you in your thoughts. "Hey. Are you eyeing the Hamilton-boy?", Theo queried, narrowing her eyes. You took another look at the boy, who seemed to be Philip, the host of the party and nodded eagerly. Theodosia seemed to be unamused by your interest and raised her eyebrows, warning you with a wagging finger. "If I were you, I would stay away from him. He's a total player and will steal your virginity, independence and dignity in one night", she cautioned, and Abigail shoved a red cup into your hand, encouraging you to drink from it. "Come on, forget about Philip,let's get drunk (Y/N)!" Without hesitation, you downed the drink. As you felt the bitter liquid running down your throat, you had to resist the urge to throw up on the spot. "Damn. I can't imagine why anyone would want to do this by their own choice", you remarked, making your friends laugh.

You were waken up by the pulsing pain in your head, and groaned quietly, rolling around in the large bed. Blinking confusedly, you tried to open your eyes, but regretted it immediately,since the brightness of the day only hurt you. You had no idea of what happened yesterday, but your heavy head clearly spoke volumes for that. Hoping that nobody took pictures of that night, you stretched yourself a bit, yawning. At least you woke up in your own bed. How you got home was a miracle though. Probably Abigail carried you home. You smirked at the imagination and buried your face further into your pillow, inhaling the pleasant smell of fabric softener. Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks. This didn't smell like your bed sheets, it had a distant smell of men's cologne. And since when was your bed so huge that you could roll around in it?

Realizing this could not be your bed, you jolted up, widening your eyes in shock. Dizziness added to the pain in your head from the sudden action, but you didn't care. And as you noticed, who was laying next to you, in nothing more than boxershorts, you swallowed. Dark, curly hair. A lot of it. Hidden under it was a peaceful, freckled face, sleeping soundly. Looking down, you saw yourself in nothing more than your black underwear. "Fuck", you breathed, rubbing your forehead. Did you really have sex with the only person you were warned of? More importantly, did you have your first time with someone and forgot all about it? Before you could think of more embarrassments, you hastily got out of bed, searching for your clothes.

You took a closer look around the room. Mostly consisting of very light colors and minimalistic furniture, you thought that it looked very luxurious. But than again, should you expect less from the son of a politician? Not that you knew much about Philip, this was the only piece of information you had. Despite pacing around a few times, you couldn't spot your black dress in the room. Another groan of frustration escaped your mouth. How were you supposed to go home in this attire? But, as you glimpsed at the bed, you decided waking Philip up seemed like a bad idea too. Shouldn't one-night-stands be gone in the morning? Did he offer you to stay? You wished you knew, but no. Your hungover brain had to forget the most essential things about last night. The only thing you could remember was talking to Abigail, Theodosia and Georges...Georges! The french boy mentioned, that he was staying at Philips home. Maybe you could ask him for some clothes. He would surely understand the situation you were in.

You hastily made your way to the door, trying to open it as quietly as you could, but instead it squeaked like an old garden gate, making you cringe.

"Where are you planning on going?" Philips voice was half husky, half sleepy and let a shiver run down your spine as you heard him. Feeling caught, you slowly turned around on the spot. Trying to play cool, you leaned against the doorframe. What would a one-night-stand say right now? Did you enjoy yourself last night? Hastily, you ran your thoughts through all the scenarios you knew from any movies you had watched, but as soon as you saw his face grinning smugly, you lost your composure. Instantly, you felt your cheeks redden and your heart pounding in your chest. "H-Hi. I'm se-searching m-my clothes", you stuttered, facepalming yourself internally. Philip started laughing at you, slowly raising himself from the bed. You couldn't resist the chance and gave him a once-over, as he slowly walked towards you.

"You don't know a thing about yesterday, do you?", he asked in an amused tone. Relaxed, he took a strand of your hair into his hand, toying with it. You admitted he was right, and with a deep chuckle, he desisted from making you more nervous. As he put some clothes on, you were reluctant, but asked anyways. "Do... you know more than I do?" Confident in his position, Philip lifted his head. "Of course I do. Girl, do you really think we had sex? Because if we did, you would've remembered it." He winked at you, which made you raise your eyebrows. "Care to enlighten me? Can you tell me why I am here, almost naked?", you queried. A grin spread across his face. "I can, but I'm not sure if you really want to hear it", he warned you, buttoning up his shirt. With a gesture of your hand, you demanded him to continue. Philip exhaled deeply, before he spoke, as if he had to recall what exactly happened. "So, after a while, we were running low on alcohol and I wanted to get some more in my house. You followed my, pressed me, and tried to undress me multiple times. Despite the fact that I declined, you would stop bothering me. So, suddenly, you ripped your dress off, throwing yourself on me. I couldn't let you into the crowd half naked, so I decided to make you sleep here", he explained bluntly. Feeling the blood pumping into your head, you quickly covered your face with your shaking hands. This was a lot more embarrassing than what you thought happened. But at least, this also meant that you still had your virginity. What did Abigail say again? He'll steal your virginity, independence and dignity in one night. Well, at least you still had two out of three things. "Sorry for forcing myself on you..and stuff. And thanks, for not taking advantage, I guess", you said, deeply ashamed. Philip gave a little shrug and handed you some clothing. "Here. I threw your dress away, to be honest, but you can keep this." Philip opened the door, but before he left, he turned to you again, adding:" Do you want to eat something or leave right away? Maybe get some painkillers for the headache?" After you were fully clothed, you decided, to eat together with him, eager to find out more about Philip. It couldn't get any worse, you thought.

After a few minutes, both of you were sitting on a large table in the living room, which was fully packed with all sorts of food. Widening your eyes, you got way too excited at the sight and didn't listen to what Philip said, as something brushed slightly against your shoulder. You turned your head to see Georges exiting the room, waving you goodbye. He said something, but you couldn't understand him, because his mouth was occupied with a croissant.

"He's late for church", Philip explained, taking a sip out of his glass. You nodded slowly, not knowing what to say, and silently, both of you began to eat. There were no sounds, except for the maid humming in the kitchen and the clattering of silverware. You glimpsed over to him, to see if he had any interest in a conversation, but he was busy with typing something into his phone, so you decided to shut your mouth. The occasional glances were getting longer and longer, till you didn't even bother to look away anymore. "So, I heard you were a player. Why did you decline my...offer yesterday?", you finally broke the silence, and regretting it in an instant, as you saw the amused expression on his face. "Well", he drawled,"Maybe it was the fact that you kept saying you wanted to have your first time with me. And I don't do completely wasted virgins." Once again, you could feel your cheeks burning, and you lowered your head. "God.. do you think it's possible to block out memories...entirely?", you asked him, half joking, half serious. "First of all, you can just call me Philip", he replied, making you sigh in annoyance. "Second... If you drink hard enough. Why do you think I host all these parties?" With a deep chuckle, he put away his phone and took a closer look at you. What he said, made you contemplate.

"Why do you, actually?", you inquired, leaning a bit forward. Philip sighed, rolling his shoulders. "I mean, I'm not a expert.. But it just seems wasting your time. You can do so much better", you asserted, tapping your fingers against the table. Philip let out an exasperated sigh and crossed his arms. "It's fun", he insisted offhanded, and you decided not to dig into it further, which led to another moment of awkward silence. His focused eyes were laying on you and he seemed to watch every move of you, making it impossible for you to eat anything. "The Adams-girl has your purse", the freckled boy informed you without any context and made you even more uncomfortable. Fidgeting around in your seat, you decided it was time to go home. "I'll bring you to the door. Do you need money?", he asked, surprisingly polite and you declined. "Nabby only lives a few streets away." "That's her name.. Yes, I visited her house a few times because of my dad", he remembered, tipping slightly against his temple, as the two of you made your way through his home. As you were finally standing in front of the door, you thanked him again, and managed to conjure a faint smile on his face. Leaning against a wall, Philip nodded slowly. "I hope you come crash my party next weekend again",he suggested, making you laugh. "And maybe cut back on the alcohol", he added and opened the door in a swift manner.

As you headed out, you couldn't help but face him again, trying to memorize every part of his face, before you left. Despite his invitation, you didn’t want to come back so soon. "I hope you find what you're looking for", you said in a seemingly insignificant way, before turning away.

"But I'm not looking for anything", Philip replied with a questioning tone and scratched his neck.

"Maybe that's the problem", you muttered quietly, but loud enough so he could hear it, walking away at a steady pace. "Wait!", he suddenly hollered, but you didn't slow down. " I don't even know your name!"

A smile spread across your face. He didn't even know your name.

#hamilton #philip x reader #why do i write like i'm running out of time #philip hamilton #georges washington de lafayette #hamilton imagine #hamilton x reader

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easylabyrinth · 5 years

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NYE

When I was younger, I spent NYE with my family friends. They were Bosnian or Macedonian, I forgot. The kids, ranging ages of 8-18 would be in the basement. We would play video games, play on the computer, talk, eat, and run around/play hide and seek etc. We would go upstairs and eat cold cuts, cheeses, balkan treats. The adults would drink rum, rakija, wine, and their breaths would smell strongly of alcohol. We would wear those flimsy paper christmas crowns, and look over old vacation photos that the hosts decided to share with us. We stopped going to their house a few years back, I think my father got into an argument with them.

I remember the last three new years eves. 2017, 2018, and 2019. I don’t remember 2016 and earlier. I probably spent those with a couple friends, or I went to a house party. In 2017, I hosted a party in the basement with 15-20 people. My parents were upstairs, knew we were partying but not the degree. We got like $200 worth of alcohol that this shady, gross 21 year old bought me and that we tipped $20. My friend and I carried it back in our backpacks and walked home, laughing and ecstatic we managed to score that much booze for the night. I got drunk out of my mind, people made out, I hooked up with my best friend at the time that I ended up dating for 3 months and we kissed on the floor and we fell asleep like that. Someone cried, someone else told me they had feelings for me, my friend slept on the toilet, I woke up with bruises and uncomfortable the next day.

2018 new years eve was spent in the very same basement, this year, we bought significantly less alcohol. My parents were away doing their own thing that night. Fewer people came. I had a wide array of friends come, many of which I didn’t click with, or those who did not click with others. There was tension. It was fine, we cracked open a bottle of champagne in the backyard and a guy played the guitar. It was boring, I didn’t feel great. I invited my exes who were cold and weird to me, and I remember feeling relieved when people went home.

2019 I decided I wouldn’t host another party, I was tired and didn’t know who to invite. My parents and my boyfriend and I went to the city, and we went to red lobster. I ate bread and pasta (not knowing I had a gluten intolerance), and we drank cocktails and I had a few very strong sangrias. We then went to the square to watch the fireworks and lights. It was bad weather, it was cold, there was rain. It was incredibly crowded with masses and hoards of people that you couldn’t really move. My boyfriend was afraid there would be a bombing, or a bomb threat given our city is very popular and there have been more threats as of late. I was in an enormous amount of pain because of the gluten attack, I felt nauseated and could barely open my eyes. My head pounded, and I was miserable. The lights and fireworks were pretty, but we rushed home five minutes after midnight because it was so cold, crowded and wet. It was an okay new years.

This new years eve, I am going to milestones with my boyfriend and my parents. I’ve looked at the menu, i’m getting their veggie burger and mushroom soup. They have nice drinks, I might get a bellini or a sangria. I am comfortable around alcohol, I don’t drink past 3-4 drinks. I feel fine. A little more relaxed. When i drink more, I begin to fiend for coke. I get very depressed, and nauseated. 3-4 is my limit. We might go to this light show in the woods, we are thinking of getting inebriated on another substance to heighten our senses and the experience. Then, if we go, we intend on coming back home and watching the countdown on TV with my parents, and opening a bottle of champagne here. It’s warm inside. It’s comfortable, I am spending time with three of some of the most important people in my life. Most people my age aren’t doing anything. All of my friends, except 2-3 are staying in with their parents/family, or are entirely alone. I don’t have the energy or the effort in me to host something and I want to ring in the new year comfortably, free from pressure and expectations.

#new years eve #nye

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barbiesgardensupplies-blog · 7 years

Text

How To Get Affordable Outdoor Furniture That Fits Your Budget

Affordable outdoor furniture has become one of the necessities in our modern world; the antiques, plain wood, it is a sight to behold in every patio. To those considering these haywire thoughts of; to the door not to do? I say do it. After this session, I bet you’ll be rating me five stars.

Outdoor furniture allows. Allows… what? Well, if it’s outdoor, then it’s obviously talking about exposure. Exposure to nothing else but beautiful nature. I like the feeling of knowing I’m home, yet still, far away. Sometimes, we are too boxed up with the louvers, air conditioners, and the television that at a point we feel we need to take a break and go to the spa, hiking, surfing, maybe camping. All this, just to get a sense of natural freedom. It’s only normal since the human body was made to be occupied, there comes a time in everyone’s life where we need these elements to soothe our artificial souls. Patios make this dream come true. One might ask how? But I stand by the notion that, there can’t be a patio without seats. Unless of course, we’re turning Korean.

Garden furniture is specifically made for outdoor use. Hence, its typical weather-resistant feature which prevents rust. Just so you know, the oldest surviving garden furniture’s were found in Pompeii’s garden.

Now, who wouldn’t want a piece of that? Patios perfect a home and here are a few things you might want to consider before getting one.

More so, there’s an important lesson I need you to come to terms with.Tips! How about I help make your life easier.

7 Tips for Choosing Affordable Patio Furniture.

Patio? Sounds French. It is actually. The patio is a usually paved outdoor area adjoining residence. Patio furniture, therefore, implies outside furniture.

1.What Do You Want?

We all have varying imaginations and thoughts about what we want. In choosing your chairs or tables, envision what you want your space to be. What function is it going to play? A dining area? a dinner party arena? or just a place where you’ll want to chill when the kids are all over the place during the weekend?

Jot this down and this will serve as a basis for the kind of furniture you will want to purchase in accordance with the purpose it’s going to serve. If the principal purpose of your 12x16-foot patio is to host casual evening cocktails, there is certainly no need for a dining table. I’ll advise you go for ample comfortable seating, a number of side tables and a fire pit, just in case it gets cold.

2. You Sure You’re Good?

Nobody wants to buy something and never really use it if I’m right. Now, with furnishing, unlike clothing, they will be there for quite a while. You can’t wake up one morning and toss all the bookshelves, center tables, and dressing mirrors because you feel like. Well, you can if your account is flooding, but if you fall in the majoritarian category where you have to toil for a few dollars and hope the exchange rates don’t fall, then, you would think twice about some actions.

All I am saying is, take a seat. Make sure you are comfortable, and process how often this patio will be used, as opposed to interior furniture which has become a bit of a formality.

3. Do It Right or Go Home.

‘You get what you pay for.’ In times like this, I understand this adage more than ever. You cannot pay $4,000 for an Audi and expect to get the same Audi someone paid $8,000 for. Such aphorisms are as recent as new.

Investments involve laying out money or capital for profitable long-term benefits one will receive in due time. When I tell you to invest in good quality, it is because I know in 5 years, the alfresco dining set you bought online for half the original price might become brittle and lose its original coloring. The same applies to wood. A few rain drops and way too friendly termites visiting from time-to-time might ruin its beauty. Thoroughly pay attention to detail when the salesman is giving the ancient background history of the wood and don’t be astounded at the pricing. Shop with care, check consumer reports and reviews and pay for quality once and for all. Wouldn’t it be eating to look at the wood shine when you have to polish it once in a decade, rather than every year with other complications?

4. How About a Spark?

For some time now, people have limited patio furniture to the complementary black, white, brown or beige colors. Note that in the outdoor world, color is the finishing touch which abounds amidst the green leaves, yellow sunflowers, and streaks of sunlight peering through the towering elongated palm branches. Allow yourself play on colors for a second. Bold splashes of color have a way of reviving a sense of longevity, pleasantness, and delight. Do it!

5. How About Two Things in One?

If I had flats that could be heels at the same time and then sneakers when I needed them to be, I bet you, I’ll so buy those over just plain old stilettoes. Isn’t it great to know you have a blouse you can wear to class, church, and work? No one really wants something for just one thing, especially when it’s costly. You should definitely try getting dual-purpose pieces. If you’ve not been able to process it, all I’m saying is, try finding an ottoman that can serve as extra seating for your next barbecue bash and can still be the simple bench that will stand alone right beside your chill-outside table.

6. How Can We Make This Work?

I’ve come to understand even the toughest of items of furniture such as teak chairs or wrought-iron settee will last longer if placed in storage when not in use. If your storage space is limited, target patio furniture that folds or is easily taken apart for compact storage, add more years to your furniture by storing them in your basement or an enclosed area during the offseason.

7. No Stress

When you buy a snack, don’t you want to enjoy eating the hot dog more than spending half the time wiping the ketchup from your palms and making sure the sausage is right in the middle?

I believe it’s the same with patio. You can get cedar, teak and metal pieces with maximum comfort and affordability since no matter the weather condition, these are unfazed by whatever nature throws their way. Cotton and other dust embracing materials might be a nightmare if you happen to find yourself in dusty areas. Furniture with an ungrudging material will do you good for years.

*I Could Still Do It

For the sisters and brothers who want to get outside furniture but are a little strapped up on cash, don’t worry, there’s hope. Get on https://www.barbiesgardensupplies.com and browse through their myriads of affordable outdoor furniture. One will surely suit your budget.

Take time, think about how great it’ll be to step out there and live your Hawaii-at-home experience in your backyard. The great news is, it’s affordable. Have fun shopping. Go get it.

#affordable outdoor furniture

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