#i watched it live but my brain isnt awake until just now !

[discobearfanclub]

WHAT is fhat…

[is-this-yuri]

have you been doomscrolling? feeling awful about it? do you feel out of control? does it seem your autonomy has been swallowed by the ever present beast that is the internet?

we live in the most overwhelmingly stimulating age of humanity ever seen, and it's only getting worse. our brains are sponges, soaking up whatever we smear them across, and it seems more and more difficult to find a clean surface to rest on. i'm no expert or professional, but ive been born and raised into the internet, and i'd like to hand out some wisdom regarding this.

the main issue: brain poison

since the brain absorbs whatever it's exposed to, media consumption is unsurprisingly going to effect it. the type of media, the amount of media, and the frequency of the media all play a factor.

it's not the internet itself that's bad here. it's the media on the internet, and the platforms designed to suck in our attention and keep it there until we're rotting inside our skulls.

we're never going to escape the internet. it's just a fact of life now, and a tool that can be used for wonderful things. so how do we learn to live with the internet and take advantage of its potential?

treat it like a dietary balance

staying aware of what goes in your brain is just as important as being aware of what you're eating. if you eat carelessly, don't listen to how your body feels after you eat certain things, and ignore any sickness that might result from rotten food, you're going to have a bad time and wreck your guts. the same goes for the brain.

you want to have a good mix of various types of media in the right amounts, or approximately so. if things are feeling bland, maybe diversify. if things are feeling stupid, try something more intellectual. if it's feeling too much, cut back on all of it

the following are three things you can do to maintain a sense of control and awareness over your media diet. this isnt a step by step and is in no particular order, theyre just ideas to carry forward in general any time it could be helpful.

1. digest

this is the process of thinking about and remembering what youve done throughout your time on the internet. it could apply to any period of time. so you might think, 'man, i've done nothing but watch tiktok all day.' or 'i've been scrolling twitter a lot more this past week.'

i feel like most people already do this to some extent, but it manifests as a fleeting sense of anxiety or shame that doesn't lead anywhere. analyze that feeling, and ask if it's really true or helpful.

ask if your media consumption is making you feel less focused, distracted, putting you into a brain fog, making you fall asleep when you don't want to, making you irritable and angry, drawing you into arguments, keeping you awake at night, or upsetting/disrupting you in any way.

digestion also means appreciating the good stuff and recognizing the good feelings you get too. so also ask if it's enriching you, helping you learn something new, giving you a new perspective, exposing you to something beautiful, passing the time, relaxing you, honing your focus, or generally lifting your mood.

2. cut

cut certain types of content from your life once you've decided they're not good for your media diet. block people. move on. tell youtube to stop reccomending that channel. block them. unfollow people. unfollow tags. block the tags. blacklist things. do it. forget the awful things that make your brain hurty. click the block button. uninstall the app. you know you want to

consider removing yourself entirely from websites that are designed to be attention predators. if you consistently feel like youre 'stuck' on a site and cant leave, it's probably best to just delete your account and get out of there. tiktok is NOTORIOUS for this.

i also tend to keep my following or subscribed count low. keeping the stream of content short forces me to find other things to do with my time. this goes hand in hand with things like turning off infinite scroll. it provides an 'end point' where the repetitive action of scrolling down stops bearing fruit, breaking the doomscrolling cycle. the internet is almost an infinite place, and its up to you to build walls around yourself so you arent lost in it forever.

its also important to get off the internet in general sometimes. i know this is obvious, but literally touch grass on occasion. doing anything with your physical body away from the screen will be more enriching than sitting there scrolling for hours. whether it's just a 5 minute walk around your house to stretch your legs or a 6 hour hike every weekend, part of cutting media will mean replacing it with real life. looking at some plants, doing a pushup, or working on a knitting project can be like rinsing your brain sponge under some cold, clean water.

3. curate

the flip side of cutting is curating. you'll want to be looking for media that makes you happy and feels productive or meaningful in some way. anything that not only doesnt make you feel like you wasted your time, but specifically makes you feel like you spent your time well, is a green flag.

keep in mind entertainment just for entertainment's sake is good for you too. you don't have to be watching university lectures and tutorials and stuff all day. finding high quality entertainment, such as personalities you enjoy, good production values, and inventive ideas can be really difficult. find the people who dont make you feel like a cocomelon baby and stick with them. from there you should be able to find similar content.

what's good for your soul is going to depend very much on you as an individual. this is also going to be an ongoing process as not only you but the internet both change and evolve. the important thing about this step is that you Make Decisions about what to consume. even bad decisions! it's all part of the process, and it's all about reclaiming your autonomy.

4. eat your junk food

this isn't a military drill or an exact science. i'm just a guy on tumblr with an intimate connection to his own brain and a LOT of time on the internet. that's my only credential. sometimes i want to turn that brain off and just mindlessly consume without putting any thought into what dirty dishwater is soaking into my sponge. sometimes adhd brain wants me to watch a shitty B movie in recap form so i dont have to commit to a full movie. sometimes i get stuck in the youtube shorts for like 3 hours.

that's fine. the most important part of any kind of self care is that a little bit is better than nothing. even just being aware that youre consuming something bad for you and knowing you arent ready to stop just yet is better than nothing.

thats it!!

now you should be prepared to take back some control over your media consumption. be gentle with yourself and take your time. eventually this stuff will become second nature, and you'll be effortlessly digesting, curating, and cutting media like it's just part of your personality. remember YOU have control over what the internet thinks you want to see. dont let it force feed you nasty slop anymore. let it be a reflection of your mind, not the other way around.

and good luck!

[ushiwakaout]

parings: Kenma x reader, Oikawa x reader

warning: Fluff, bad grammar. nsfw under black line. fem reader. TIME SKIP HAIKYUU

a/n: request are open! please don’t be afraid to do so!

Kozume Kenma

Match made in heaven

Both of you are at home workers, other than the fact that kenma is a CEO of his own company

You work for him, you’re his editor and you work pretty fast since you obviously do nothing in your day but edit and binge watch anime

you guys could probably go days without talking and just communicate physically and understand everything.

If you go to the store, and he’s gaming that’s when you’ll talk

Always knock before you go into his little studio room

You never come behind him anymore because one time he was filming a scary gameplay with a heart monitor and everyone thought you gave him a heart attack 

but no, kenma is just baby and you wanted a good laugh- you felt really bad about it tho bc it was live and you where crying your ass off and he was yelling at you 

fake breakup video like the next day for trolling

Okaya anywho

if you want his attention and he’s live, you remove one side of his headset and kiss his cheek (theres a several compilation videos of you doing that all over youtube) “I’m going to the store, you want anything?” 

you always wait like 30 seconds and caress him a little to let him know you’re physically there and not just standing there.

“Uh- yeah... yeah. Hold on.” (there is also a compilation of kenma just ignoring you and you just standing there until he answers) 

you always end up naming his favorite snacks, drinks and food and he either agrees or denies. 

everyone thinks its weird how your relationship works

SOME MANY VIDEOS OF “kenma and y/n communicating without any words” 

you go many places by yourself since kenma does very long streams or just long videos

you both stay up really late together

if hes not making videos hes looking at paperwork and if hes not doing that he’s helping you edit

somehow kenma is the more productive one

you have channel yourself that slowly grows thanks to kenma

you only do lives and leave up the whole streams bc you dread editing but you’ll do anything for kenma

just to make extra cash you have and OF

most of the videos consist of watching you play video game while kenma eats you out under the desk

a lot of audios because kenma doesn’t like being his face filmed while having sex

theres a video in your own OF when you do a tik tok trend where you surprise him while he’s filming 

“Kenma can you help me for a second.”

“Hmm, what is it kitten?” 

He paused his game and while his chair turned you undid your robe

Luckly he’s not live and kept the camera on

He just smiles and spreads his legs for you

(gdiewgsfiuchsiufviusdghvypofgsivhrwshb my brain is malfunctioning ugh im so in love with kenma its not even funny)

He makes you sit on his lap, as he suckles your nipple in his mouth. 

His hand firmed tightly around your rips as he kisses every inch of your chest

“You’re so pretty... So fucking pretty.” He mumbles. He’s kissing down your chest all the way to your tummy before picking you up and making you stand 

He makes you stand in front of the camera while stands behind you and kisses the crook of your neck. 

“I want you to look in the camera for me kitten, can you do that?” He kisses her jaw “Can you be a good girl for me?”

(wow if i write any more smut for kenma i think i might go crazy jskwbvbdei)

sex is very much a frequent thing, most of the time it starts as cock warming while watching a movie and two second later your begging to milk kenmas cock again

he loves when you beg for his cock, makes him feel wanted

he loves feeling your tight pussy clench around him when hes about to cum and you’re cumming for the third time, panting, begging, crying to having him fill you up with his hot cum.

Blow jobs under his desk or while hes on an important call are a must.

you love watching his cock slowly twitch with pre cum when you lick his shaft

mmm i need to stop- i love him so much ugh

Oikawa Tooru 

Being lazy in argentina was a dream but a little lonely

Tooru was always away at practive but lcukly the apartment he had been renting had a pool, and you spend most of your days at the pool, reading or playing some game he just bought you

you hate how early he freaking wakes up

hes making breakfast and blending shakes at like 5 in the morning 

there’s days he doesn’t really mean to wake you, you know the difference bc if he wants to wake you he’ll leave the blender run for a while and if h doesn’t he does it in seperate pulses so it’s not so damn loud

if he does it on purpose, he has breakfast ready for you before his own

doesn’t expect you to stick around after you eat 

when he wakes you on accident he’s like “Oh my baby i’m so sorry honey.” 

cue kiss attacks, warm hugs and him making you a cup of coffee/tea, whatever you prefer that morning

he’s so sweet

he knows you work hard too (even tho it doesn’t seem like it bc people think youtubers and streamers have an easy job when it clearly is mentally very stressful)

He knows that when he wakes you up, you had legit just gone to bed like two hours ago. 

sometimes you sleep though the noise and before he leaves he wakes you up just a little so he can kiss you goodbye.

its always something like *shake* *shake* “Baby.... honey”  *caressing of the head/cheek/hair* “I gotta go to practice now, give me a kiss princess.” you always wake up to the sound of that and give his a really sweet and tender kiss. Oikawa really just wants to fall back asleep with you and hold you, especially today since it was a cold morning

after you give him the kiss, you caress his cheek and then shove him away- a little jumpy that he need to go. “Love you.” you mutter before covering yourself with the blankets 

he always slaps your ass over the blankets, it never huts but it’s just a sign of his actually leaving to practice 

You wear his stuff when he leaves

low key have attachment issues since you moved with him to Argentina

other than pool side reading, or doing a few laps before breakfast- you really don’t do anything but work.

Work for you consisted you of just playing video games or streaming

You’re popular on the female side of gamers 

sometimes you have streams where you ask your fans to play and write down their handles and you’d add them to a game or sum

Everyone knows your dating a professional volleyball player an they think it’s an interesting duo

You cry when Tooru brought Hinata over, he smelt like home

you def. helped him adjust to the life in argentina bc it’s nothing like home.

hinata comes over for dinner ever weekend

if you’re not working or at the pool, you’re in a white hoddie and some shorts, just watching Hinata play some beach volleyball while playing some game

You very much remind him of kenma- it helped a lot when he got some sick- you didn’t really ‘help’ you just cried with him about how much you miss home

although your schedule isnt the best, youre always awake when tooru gets home, always there to greet him with kisses 

hes lucky you like cooking, bc he always comes home to an empty stomach 

you’re probably the slowest cooker he knows but you take your sweet time bc you know that it always comes out w the best result and he doesnt complain anymore

baths w oikawa are frequent

muscles sores are a usual so seconds before he gets home theres a hot bath being  pampered with your love for him

you work so slow on everything hes surprised you actually get stuff done

a little offended that he doesn’t believe in your slow work ethic bc it worked since highschool.

there had been times where he just ask if you’re not ever sick of being at home locked in all day and it stated a very month long fight.

sleeping in different rooms

(LIL ANGST AHEAD)

Tooru can hear you cry from the other room

he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, he really didn’t. he just doesn’t want you to regret anything- especially moving here with him

you hate it when he questions your life ethics. it makes you feel like a failure and unworthy.

your life is simple and you like it that way but the second he questions it you think that you aren’t doing enough

will 100% sleep outside your door because he can’t sleep alone anymore. he’s gotten used to you being right next to him

you realize that it seems he’s given up so now it’s time to go to the kitchen and get water

but to your surprise tooru is very asleep on the doorframe when you open the door. it’s makes your heart ache just a little bit. he looks tired, his eyes are puffy but he looks so at peace.

you wake him up to go to bed but he has other plans.

he’s kissing you so sweetly, every piece of skin he can find he will kiss

will carry you to bed and kiss your tummy as your shirt ran a little too high

will start to kiss your inner thigh and pull down your underwear and slowly make his way up to your pussy

you’re clearly trying to shove him off (not hard enough) because you keep closing your legs and trying to push him with your foot

will spread your legs and keep his hands there to he can start eating you out

this is his apology. this his how oikawa tooru says im sorry without saying it. soft pleasuring, orgasmic sex.

his fingers are so deep in your pussy while he’s sucking on your clit. he doesn’t look at you when you cum because he feels like he doesn’t deserve to see it.

you’re begging him to look at you after he’s done fingering you so you can kiss him with your taste this lingering oh his tongue

fucks you in a matting press because when it’s slow and he’s thrusting it all in.... i don’t think he’s seen you twitch and drool so much

tooru is there to pleasure you and when he sees you cry out of the pleasure you know he’ll be forgiven when it’s over

aftercare is even better

he doesn’t make you do anything

he presses you, gives you kisses and over all will apologize verbally when you’re slowly falling asleep in his arms

[interrogatormentors]

Event Eleven: Natural

They dissected Ualona in their anatomy class the following day. Sollux knew he should’ve been ready. All of the other subjects in the dissection videos to learn about the inner workings of the body, were young and fit, and more than a few showed signs of distress and torture when they were working on the cadavers. Sollux knew they were working on other trainees, but still they all stopped and stared at the body on the table waiting for them with the exception of Rosmer and Zesaim. Those two remained as placid as ever as of late, eerily so as they took their seats.

A new instructor waited for them, a goldblood with a horrific burn across one side of her face and a bright red eye. “Welcome, recruits,” she said, stretching on some gloves as she spoke, “to the next stage of your anatomy schoolfeeding. As you are well aware, this specimen hasn’t been dead long and I wish to make efficient use of it while it is here. Please take up your tablets-- You will be answering questions as I perform this dissection, so no need for gloves just yet. Once I have been satisfied with your performance, you will be tasked with practicing cuts and sutures on the specimen, as in the field you may have to patch up both yourself and your interrogation subject at any time. Do keep in mind that dead flesh is very different from the living, and respond accordingly. Be very grateful one of your own perished at such a convenient time, as knowing the subject in this unit is optimal. We would hate to have to give you a frozen subject.”

Sollux sat down in his usual seat, and despite his best attempts to remain impartial to avoid punishment he couldn’t help speaking up. His tablet zapped him as he did so, but he continued on without so much as flinching. “I’m not saying I won’t do this, because I know that isn’t an option,” he said. He kept his expression passive, and managed to avoid any further electrocution. “But I’d just like to know what’s accomplished by knowing.. The specimen.” He narrowly avoided grimacing then. He hated speaking as though Ualona was just a piece of meat, but that too had to be buried. Emotions were weakness.

Rosmer scoffed beside him, but the instructor lifted a hand. “Calm yourself, Leywet. Captor here has asked an excellent question.” She began to pace, arms folded behind her back. “Why indeed? The answer is simple-- there is no greater weakness than close relationships. Alliances are useful to use and exploit, but sentimental clinging will always serve as a detriment. If your closest friend is a traitor to the empire, you must be able to detach yourself and do what is done.” Sollux stiffened by a millimeter, and immediately the instructor’s good eye fixed upon him as she continued speaking. “We are the sharpest knives of the empire, recruits. Do not forget that.”

Trisia averted her eyes as the instructor went back to the table and picked up a scalpel, but Sollux forced himself to watch. He could feel something in him slipping away, giving up as the instructor put the knife to Ualona’s chest. “You are all familiar with the first cut to start with, yes? Do tell me my predecessor did not fail you in that regard.”

Sollux glanced over at Mercuo, who shrugged a shoulder, but they all answered correctly: a Y-cut, to access the chest and organs within for an autopsy-style investigation. Ophlia refused to answer, hands flat on her desk in front of her, and didn’t move as her tablet zapped out at her.

“Please be mature about this, Miss Davrot,” the instructor said. She made the initial cut, exposing the abdominal and thoracic cavities with a clean Y-cut. “When performing your own dissections, remember to start at the corner of the pectorals and go diagonally until they meet at the midline. Do not make the mistake of starting with the vertical cut down the middle. Cherry picking will get you nowhere. Trolls will, on occasion, hide valuable information in any and all bodily cavities and if they are former helmsmen such as Captor, their brain will have been modified with a partially electronic sector. Never forget to check that area when working with a lowblood. If you have enough adrenaline to mitigate shock, you can even do as much while the subject is awake. That way, you immediately know when you have made a mistake in their pan rather than being surprised by their later incoherence when they come to consciousness.”

The instructor peeled the skin and muscle back, revealing Ualona’s internal cavity. Considering how long he had been dead he did not bleed, but Sollux swallowed back a retch at the foul smell. “Next question, what tool is used to open the ribcage?” Mercuo wobbled in his seat, looking queasy, but answered with the rest.

Sollux got the answer wrong, as did Ophlia by virtue of once again refusing not to answer. Sollux readjusted his grip on his tablet, and took the incorrect answer in stride. He filed the answer away in his notes, color-coded and neat. The sane part of him asked why, why bother considering how he still yearned to escape, but the other half of him reminded him of the futility of the attempt. He had already experienced the helm. Wouldn’t it be better to have a semblance of agency, to walk and eat and sleep like a normal troll? Better trolls had sacrificed more for such a life.

The instructor sliced open the digestive sac then, interrupting Sollux’s thoughts. Mercuo actually threw up then, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth as he lifted his head. Rosmer’s eyebrows twitched, but he leaned in all the same as the instructor started going on about how fast to move to recover objects before stomach acid could damage them if the troll hadn’t taken precautionary measures against it.

The rest of the lesson passed just as unpleasantly as the beginning, and the whirring of the bonesaw at Ualona’s skull continued to echo through Sollux’s pan as they filed from the block. Another new instructor awaited them at physical endurance training, a teal with blind eyes, sickly black cracks shattering his skin, and a shadow that seemed too long and too solid as he paced the room.

Sollux went about coding a new, private chatroom for them all, barring Rosmer and Zesaim seeing as the two both seemed compromised now. He pinged the others, one by one over the next hour so as to not arouse suspicion.

[twinArmaggedons [TA] has opened up the memo porndonotopen]

glorifiedCorpsification [GC] has entered the chat!

cavortingGratuity [CG] has entered the chat!

accentuatedAntimony [AA] has entered the chat!

AA: 7his isnt porn is i7

TA: not iin the mood funniily enough TA: anyone know what wa2 up wiith the two new iin2tructor2?

GC: *No.* GC: *Don’t care.*

CG: i actually Heard oTHers Talking CG: pozoia and juyere were parTners and THeir sHip was aTTacked.

TA: let me check the helmiing channel2.

Sollux opened up the helming channels, plugging in his well-worn code string to bypass the firewalls. A quick scan had his pusher skipping a few beats, and he rolled over on his reclining platform onto his stomach as he scrolled through the data.

TA: the rebelliion got them. TA: they managed two get iin the 2hiip, extract the iinterrogatormentor2, and get out. AA: 7ha7 sounds bull to me. AA: 7hey never would ge7 7aken alive.

TA: word iin the helm ii2 that poiizoiia’2 old mate2priit wa2 iinvolved.

AA: wai7 AA: so i7 wasn7 an a77ack?

AA: i7 was a rescue?

GC: *So our quads weren’t culled.* GC: *Someone misses us.*

AA: oh god did you have a quad.

GC: *Pale*

GC: *My diamond, lime bright and secret.*

GC: *My soul traded for hers. They stated her death was a quick one. Do not know what to believe now.*

TA: okay. TA: okay you know what you diidn’t make a trade.

TA: we’re gettiing out of here.

TA: ii 2ay we try and move wiithiin the periigee before anythiing wor2e happen2 two one of u2. 

Sollux turned off his tablet then, putting it under his pillow and flipping back onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He dared to imagine his friends’ faces then, the friends he’d tried to force himself to forget in an attempt to minimize what the interrogatormentors could use against him. Was Karkat actually looking for him? Was he somewhere out in the stars with the others, tearing ships apart and searching them for a helmsman or a mangled corpse within?

The weeks passed. The escape plan took shape, pupating into something actionable as each day passed. Mercuo had the advantage of his blood, and along with Ophlia’s intimidating bulk he managed to procure escape pod codes from the docking bay. Trisia, already a favorite amongst the guard, managed to get a shift shadowing another while Sollux worked on adjusting the cameras just enough to create blind spots in their vision without arousing suspicion. Another night, another millimeter, until there was a foot of space the cameras couldn’t see leading down the corridor to freedom.

Despite his efforts Sollux found his motivation draining from him with each passing night. He voiced none of his doubts in the chat, but what was even the point of escaping? Interrogatormentor training haunted his every moment, but at least it was better than running from the Empire. Just like rebels, they would be hunted down and given no quarter for abandoning their posts. They’d signed away their lives. Ophlia seemed more outwardly hesitant than he was, but he wasn’t sure how much of that was just her brusque manner of speaking and general stoic demeanor.

After dinner one night, Sollux decided to turn in early. He felt off, a headache building up behind his eyes, and Trisia just about booted him down the hall to sleep. The training that night with Rapard had worn him down to the bone, and he fell asleep the moment his head hit the reclining platform. Only much later would he make the connection between the taste of the food that morning and Rosmer’s bright, eager eyes watching him across the table to how deeply he slept.

When Sollux awoke the next night, Trisia and Mercuo had gone. Sollux met Ophlia’s eyes across the room, and while she betrayed nothing he could tell she was thinking the same as him. They abandoned us. Sollux got dressed in silence with the three others, and out of the corner of his eye saw Ophlia pick up her tub of face paint to apply it for the night, before putting it down again without a word. She walked out of the room, blank faced as the rest of them to meet their usual instructors for training

One by one as they walked, an instructor pulled them away. Sollux followed Rapard in silence, and came to a stop with him outside an unfamiliar block. “Your final exam, recruit,” Rapard said. “Congratulations on making it to the live interrogation. You will be tested on your ability to extract information from the subject and to resist emotional attachments.” Rapard opened the door, revealing Mercuo stripped down to his shorts and strapped to a chair with his head slumped forward to his chest. “You are tasked with interrogating Mercuo Trevan for his attachments to the rebellion, and discovering the location of Trisia Avarae. Culling the subject before you are given the clear will result in immediate failure and your termination. Is this clear, recruit?”

Sollux nodded, a faint pang in his gut as he entered the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and Mercuo’s closed eyes screwed themselves shut a little tighter. Sollux took stock of the situation, seeing a rolling table to the side of the room, equipped with various tools that he’d become well acquainted with in the gruelling time that they’d been in training. Scalpels, knives, scissors. Bundles of wire. Bottles of different types of fluid, one of which was labeled as liquid nitrogen. A styrofoam container that no doubt contained dry ice. Then there was a kettle, a hairdryer, pliers. Each item, regardless of how innocuous they seemed, all had a grim purpose in this room.

Sollux closed his eyes and inhaled, gathering himself. While Rapard had forbidden immediately culling Mercuo, Sollux doubted that Mercuo would walk out of this one alive. Maybe he could try to give Mercuo a quick death anyway. He’d prefer Mercuo lived, because a distant part of him longed for all of this to end and for everything to be okay again. He missed Ualona. He missed Mercuo swearing at him and Zesaim and Rosmer being normal. He missed Trisia managing to make Ophlia laugh. He missed Karkat, accessible now only to Sollux on the culling block should they meet again.

Sollux opened his eyes, rolling his shoulders before raising his hand to the thermostat on the wall. He cranked the temperature up, and braced as a wave of hot air blasted through the vents. Mercuo stirred then, lifting his head and jerking at his bonds.

“Captor? What… What’s going on?”

Sollux almost gritted his teeth, but the ghostly chill of his memories in the freezer helped tame him back. “I think you know what’s going on. You failed. I’m going to pass.”

Mercuo swallowed hard, running his tongue over his lips as the heat in the room rose. “...Sparks. Fuck, what-- I talked to you yesterday.” His eyes fell on something behind Sollux, and Sollux glanced back to spot a blinking red light in the corner. They were being watched. Sollux wondered how soon they would edit down the footage, how long until they released this as just another schoolfeeding supplemental. 

Mercuo recovered first, fins flaring out in a clear signal of aggression as Sollux approached him. Other than that, his face fell into a familiar blank mask of indifference all interrogatormentors wore. “I don’t know what exactly you want, dude, but you’ll have to try harder.” He laughed, thin and mirthless while not a single muscle in his face twitched. “The temperature trials don’t work so much on me anymore. We both went through them.”

Sollux smacked Mercuo in the face, watching a drop of sweat fly off the seadweller’s nose and across the room. “Then you know how this works. I’m asking the questions.” With the addition of the camera in the room Sollux worked harder to maintain a cold mask of control, killing any last remnant of resistance to his training. He had to pass. He had to live. Mercuo had proven his weakness. “I know you went through the training, I’m not a wiggler.” He picked up the bundle of wires from the table, pushing the operculum back and hooking the metal ends to the seadweller’s delicate torso gills with little clamps. “I don’t care if your pan isn’t scrambled, it’s your body I need weak.”

Sollux clutched the wires then, using them as a conduit to direct psionics through all of Mercuo’s gills at once. Mercuo held himself together for a whole thirty seconds before he lost his nerve and screeched, little trickles of blood bursting from the gills’ fillaments from the shock. He bent as much as he could in his restraints, rasping with his eyes wide as Sollux watched him. “Why did Trisia leave you behind? I thought she cared about you.”

“They shot my ankle out,” Mercuo said, wheezing and wincing. A quick glance down confirmed this-- the seadweller’s whole foot and ankle up to the shin were swathed in bandages. The wound still looked fresh. “I threw her into a pod and made her go.” He lifted his head, baring a shark-toothed grin even as his breathing hitched from the pain. “Anything else, Sparks?”

Sollux clenched his fist around the wires, and he caught the tiniest flick of Mercuo’s fin at the motion. Good, he’d managed to already get a panic response. Still he had to remind himself to keep going, to get the answers. He had to cover the bases. He already knew Mercuo’s name. That was always the first step. He had to make sure the subject was uncomfortable, and the blazing hot room accomplished that.

He cocked back his free hand, punching Mercuo right in the face. Mercuo gagged around blood as the punch to the face caused him to cut his inner cheek on his teeth, and Sollux turned as he recovered to turn the heat up even more with his psionics. “I’m asking the questions. You’re just making this difficult, you know it. This could be over now. Where were you planning to go? You never told the rest of us.” He sent out another wave of psionics at Mercuo’s gills, eyes narrowed. “She had to go somewhere. Where is she?”

Mercuo bit his lip hard enough to bleed even more with the second surge of psionics, eyes watering as his gills started to tear under the psionic pressure. Sweat dripped down his face. “No. Try something else. Fffffuck you, Captor. C’mon. This cheesy villain shtick doesn’t fit you. Like I knew you were compromised, man, but you can still bounce back.”

Sollux wrenched Mercuo’s head back, forcing him to stare up at the bright bulb above them. “You know where she went. But take your time. I’m here all night.” He dropped Mercuo’s head, removing the wires and starting to tape them shut instead with some medical tape provided to him. His fingers slipped a little in the violet blood, but he pressed on and moved up to Mercuo’s neck gills until the seadweller was, for the first time in his life, watertight. He covered Mercuo’s face with a cloth, grabbing a pitcher from the table and pouring it onto Mercuo’s face to simulate drowning for a troll that never should have the context for such a situation. Mercuo yelled and trilled under the cloth, his legs jerking in their bonds as Sollux waterboarded him. He repeated his question, firm and unflinching as the seadweller gurgled.

It took an hour for Mercuo to stop choking and to begin crying instead, and Sollux pulled back when the desperation reached its peak. Mercuo coughed, head lolling back before he caught himself. “No. Fuck you. I’m not budging. Ask something else.”

Sollux grabbed Mercuo’s face, forcing eye contact. “I think you know I won’t budge either. I don’t care if you give me an answer now or after hours of me tearing your guts out through your nostrils.”

He raised the temperature again, and grabbed himself a sip of water after doing so. Mercuo watched him with hungry eyes, actively panting now. Sollux grabbed another towel, a dry one this time, scrubbing away the sweat and water on Mercuo’s face to rob him of the chance to cool himself down. He put the towel down, placing the heel of his hand over one of Mercuo’s eyes. “But if you’re still going to be stubborn, eyes are a pretty quick route to the pan.” Mercuo writhed. “No, Captor, wait-- I’m sorry, we’re sorry! We tried to wake you up, you weren’t moving, it was just like Ualona-- oh god, no no no no oh god Sollux please--”

The seadweller screamed as Sollux turned his psionics on him, burning his eye beyond repair. Blood and fluid bubbled up around Sollux’s hand and Mercuo’s screeching rose in pitch, body jerking as he tried to back away. He screamed himself hoarse for what seemed like hours as Sollux held him there with a single hand, the blood pooling down his face while his other eye glazed over from the pain.

Sollux pulled his hand away, wiping his hand clean on Mercuo’s face. Part of him ached as he saw Mercuo sobbing before him, hated himself and the situation he’d been forced into. That part of him grew quieter as he swiped a smear of violet blood from his cheek and flicked it onto the floor. “You have no right to call me by name.” He placed his hand on Mercuo’s other eye, ignoring the wail that resulted. “You were dead to me the moment you tried to escape.”

“You came up with the idea!”

Sollux glanced back at the camera at the other side of the room. “It never would’ve worked. When you two left without us I realized something.” He leaned in, his face an inch from Mercuo’s. He could smell the sweat and the panicked pheromones whirling around his head. “I’m better off here. They take trolls that are weak and turn them into something stronger. I don’t need to run for the rest of my life.”

“They broke you, Captor, and that’s the point.” Mercuo wheezed, flinching as Sollux pressed down on his eye. “They’ll break you so you can’t feel anything and what’s the point in calling yourself a troll anymore?”

Sollux snorted, and silently berated himself for betraying that emotional response. “They broke me down and built me up again and turned me into a weapon. I’m the one walking out of here alive today. If you give Trisia up, maybe she won’t suffer the same fate as you. I’ll give you one more chance before I take your other eye.”

Mercuo sniffled, starting to hiccup in terror. “Please, Sollux. Please.”

“You have two seconds.”

“I can’t I can’t, I’m so fucking pale for her, I can’t.” He spat then, purposeful and directly onto Sollux’s free hand.

That spelled the beginning of the end for Mercuo. Sollux blinded his other eye then, and after that Sollux tortured the seadweller for hours. They instructors had provided adrenaline, and Sollux forced Mercuo back from the brink more than a few times. He didn’t take a break, not even to grab a bite of the food that a wordless instructor brought in for him.

The process took a total of six hours. Six hours of hell, pushing this person-- who in another life, Sollux could have considered being actual friends with --to just shy of death. Every tool on that table ended up in use. Gills were dried with the blistering heat of the hair dryer. Mercuo’s wounded leg, torn free of its bandages, dunked into the vat of liquid nitrogen and then shattered off like glass. His fins, cut off and then cauterized with the blistering heat of Sollux’s psionics. The delicate filaments of his gills cut by a scalpel with precision, where the nerve bundles were greatest. Dry ice forced down his throat with no reprieve or water in sight. Every little bit of interrogation tricks he’d learned through the course shone through, applied meticulously to ensure that not only would Mercuo still be alive, but he would sorely regret that fact.

Clearly, it was all too much to bear. Mercuo sagged back against his chair, ruined eyes dripping blood onto the floor as his head lolled to the side, making him seem more of a corpse or a daywalker at best. “Kill me, please.” He took in a deep breath, coughing. “She entered in Alternian coords. Shhhekfk- gkgg- Found forums… They have a base down there. New heiress… she’s.. She’s coming. Feferi Peixes.”

Sollux’s ears flicked as he heard a soft beep, and looking to the camera he saw the light had gone green. Any residual guilt had leaked out of him at this point, and he felt nothing upon being given the implicit order to kill one of his dear friends.

No. Allowed. He was allowed the privilege of culling a traitor. 

Sollux put a hand to Mercuo’s chest, powering his psionics up to deadly levels and letting out a shock directly to the seadweller’s bloodpusher. Mercuo smiled right before he did so, croaking a ragged thanks before jerking once. Then he died, breath rattling and rasping to a stop.

Sollux felt nothing at all.

Sollux stepped out of the interrogation room, covered in violet blood and with his back straight. Rapard awaited him, arms folded behind him. He stopped Sollux dead in his tracks by smiling, honestly smiling, reaching out to grab Sollux by the shoulders.

“Nice work, recruit. You’re a natural.”

[relatablemormonmoments]

October 2019 Saturday Session Notes

Morning

Jeffrey R. Holland

Anonymous women and men identify Christ as reason for clamor

Find Jesus at center of it all

Our faith can be overwhelming

Love of heavenly PARENTS

Recieve your sight, your faith has healed you

Skeptics and faithful still contend

Faith and service

Terrence M. Vinsen

Build the lord's temple instead of staying in our safe houses

Earneth wages to put in a bag with holes (oooo graphics)

Less wifi and more Nephi

We shouldn't let the gospel be an added extra or just go to church 2 hours on Sundays. Church is extended 6 more days a week

Fair Dinkum->being commited

If we think things will be easy we will lose

Parable of the Fat Lip and Broken Jaw -> resulted in giving our all

Giving our all =/= blessings and success, Giving our all=Happiness

When he falls he shall rise again

Never waivered in faith and goodness, but deeply hirt for a long time

Wound expanding over our hearts

Pain in heart = Pain in soul, If we go to God it can be taken away

What should I do ghat I may have eternal life, that I shall return to God?

Prepare to give up all we have

Consider your ways

I hope this guy becomes an apostle 😍😍😍

Stephen W. Owen

Cellphone intentions quickly become distractions

Missed scripture study and subsequently the blessing and spiritual healing that comes with it

24 gour news cycle = bad

We must learn to recieve revelation

Herd of deer trapped outside of habitat-could starve. Deer can't eat well meaning hay -> starve to death with stomachs full

Spiritual nourishment is not trending on social media

Pride of world causes us to abandon church

Motions of spirituality do not mean true conversion

We need to be faithful, not faithless

Home centered church helps us thrive in days of spiritual malnutrition

Master of distraction, author of procrastination = Satan

Children need more of your time, not less

Curriculum for meetings is being adjusted

Moved to new neighborhood at age 14-> feels like tragedy

Parents, let youth know they are not alone as they walk

Your influence might be the church support that that young person needs.

D. Todd Christoffersen

We can feel joy regardless of what is happening or what's not happening in our lives

Those who serve God and are chaste are more joyful than those who are only obedient

Recieving the gospel makes us feel like a free bird

Be of good cheer

Joy of returning to geaven

Bring light, relief, and happiness ro our brothers and sisters

Michelle Craig

How can I tell when God is trying to tell me something?

Be intentional about creating time and space to hear God's voice

Imagine what would happen if we were as intent in staying connected to heaven as we were to staying connected to wifi

Lord can use your ordinary skills to accomplish his extraordinary work

Dale G. Renlund

New but unwavering commitment to Jesus Christ

Unchanging fidelity to God

MY ARCHAEOLOGIST BRAIN ISNT HAPPY WITH THE IDEA OF THROWING THE ITEMS RELATED TO OUR OLD IDENTITIES AWAY AND COMPLETELY DESTROYING IT

Begin new life in Christ

Spiritual sneeze, faithful flu- doesnt work

Recieve Christ's image more fully.

Constant flow of Faith

"Isn't this the truth that we have heard"

Anchor yourself to the Savior

Oaks

No.

Afternoon

David A. Bednar

Yesss its my boy

Camoflauged cro odiles -> Satan vs. Youth (Packer)

Cheetahs, fastest accelerating mammals on earth

Cheetahs stalk Topies while working in tandem to hunt them.

Alternating pattern to dostract and decieve the Topies and keep them from knowing there was any danger

Older Topies watching give warning and Topies escape.

Cheetahs still pursue, restless.

Beware of evil's beguiling disguises

Restored Gospel light in our lives

Stay awake and be alert

Don't be complacent or careless

A cheetah is a predator, Satan is the enemy of Righteousness

PLAN OF HAPPINESS Provides direction and enduring joy to God's Children

Lucifer seeks to frustrate our progression via misusing our bodies

Powerful parables are obtained from our daily lives

Ruben V. Alliad

Jesus is the Lord of Lost Things, he loves Lost Things

200 copies of the book of mormon in one room

"And when ye shall recieve these things..."

Pray about book of mormon and you WILL know that its true

Found directly through power of BOM

Think hard and answer honestly, follow up on baptism promises

Diligently seek the BOM

Holy Ghost confirms our knowlege

Russell M. Nelson

Youth Battalion

(If any of you saw my previous post this talk is what tipped my Grandmother off about Hitler's Youth)

Quentin L. Cook

Smartphones = bad

Youth must be the focus of Bishops and other leaders

Youth have more personal responsibility at you bf er and younger ages now

Announcements do not limit bishoos responsibility over Young Women

Young Women leader is besf for meeting the needs of Young Women

YOUNG MEN PRESIDENCIES NO MORE

Ward youth council, mutual is retired

Mark L. Pace

God loves us

70 steel piles provide firm foundation

Increase faith in Jesus Christ and his Atonement

Adversaries increasing attacks on our faith

Come follow me a chance to bear testimony and learn differently

Consistent Effort throughout the week

Remodel home into center of Gospel Learning

Come follow me helpsnus establish foundation

L. Todd Budge

Peace and Joy when we surrender ourselves to God

Afflictions and Sorrow prepare us for joy -13th century poet

Afflictions are small

Life full of purpose and meaning

The lord will not allow us to suffer in darkness

How can we make it through the day without the Lord?

Questions and concerns -> Faith and Love

"I don't feel safe, but I am"

Wind never ceases to blow us towards the promised land

Didn't cease to praise the Lord

I really like this guy. He gives me peace and brings me joy

Jorge M. Aluardo

Some blessings come soon, late, or not until heaven, but they will come

Temple

Works at temple bless you with increased revelation and peace

Example of righteous parents

Strong familial chain link

Follow your own council (kid eating too much candy)

This man brings me joy

"Amazing Papa!"

Ronald A. Rasband

Grateful for the Lord's eternal companionship

Promises to improve

Promises to eachother increase promise to the Lord

Partnership with the Lord

The lord will be with you

Women's Session

Reyna J. Alberto

Black clouds which blind us and cause us to question God

When our minds are suffering, it is appropriate to seek help

Together we realize there is hope, and we do not have to suffer alone. Find resources about emotional illnesses!

Isolation thrives in secrecy and shrinks in empathy

When it comes to healing, we all need Him desperately

Nothing you have experienced will change the fact that you are God's child

Lisa L. Harkness

Living under Christ's name

Jesus is here for us

Do we honor the name of Christ

Bonnie H. Cordon

Sure knowlege of divine purpose and identity

NEW YW THEME ( I DIDNT CATCH THE WHOLE THING BUT): I am a beloved daughter of HEAVENLY PARENTS

Shift from we to I

Peace and Guidance will be yours

We need to have shelters and sanctuaries from life's storms

Be a light to those around you.

All classes are now unified under one name: Young Women

Every class should have a class presidency

Make the calling of leading class presidencies a priority

Revelation is real

We need the Wisdom, Council, and Energy in youth council

Henry B Eyring

Divine mission is to help lift the souls of others

We do not know the time or duration of our assignments

Preparation of a powerful loving heart

Minister to every stranger as a neighbor and a friend

We must be a mother in some way

Mold living clay to your hopes in tandem with God

God loves you

Oaks

NO!!! (Homophobic version)

Russell M. Nelson

He is now the church grandpa

Access to all spiritual treasures for Lord's children

How do we draw the savior's power in our life? Holy Ghost will prompt you

Bad men are not allowed- men must drink respect women juice

RESPECT WOMEN JUICE!!

Misogyny bad

Women are society's guardians, wonderful, magnificent

Covenants = Priesthood power for women

I LOVE MY NEW GRANDPA

Encouraged to participate in ward councils

166 temples and more to come (TEMPLES ANNOUNCED IN WOMEN'S SESS? THIS IS A FIRST)

8 new temples -> sierra leone, utah x2 , arkansas, philippines, texas, guatemala, utah

Strengthen your faith in the Lord.

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (6)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 2.9k (this chapter), 19.7k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Hope my friends and I didn't make things weird for you yesterday. We're heading to the city around noon if you're still up for helping us with the boring part.

noon?? fucking alright i guess i gotta put pants on

lmao yeah, sorry. My parents woke us up at EIGHT like that's a normal time to be awake????

desgostang

What?

ill send u the link later and also no i didnt feel weird yesterday you guys are nice

That's good! And hey I wanted to ask. You were kind of put on the spot with introducing yourself, would you rather we called you Dan or Winnie? I just wanna make sure we aren't making you uncomfortable at all lmao

no its all fine you can call me dan idc and actually its best if you do call me dan when youre in my work lmao

Are you totally sure?

why would i lie abt this. dont be an idiot it isnt a good look on you

haha okay. I’ll see you around noon.

--

“Christopher is a nice boy,” Phil’s mum is telling him as she helps him with their fancy new coffeemaker. There are so many buttons and Phil is so, so tired. “And Sophie is lovely, such a soft-spoken thing. Why haven’t we met them before, dear?”

“Dunno,” Phil says instead of the truth, which is that he’d had no idea how he was supposed to introduce them. “You have now, though.”

His mum laughs and reaches up to pat his cheek. “True enough. I’m so happy that you’ve got good people around you, Philip. I’ve gotten quite worried about you down there by yourself, you know.”

“I’m not by myself,” says Phil. “I live with, like, thirty people.”

“Bunch of strangers, I’ll bet,” she says, because she knows him. “Aside from those three.”

The thing is, she’s not wrong. Phil’s obviously exaggerating about the number of people under the roof of the creaky Brighton house, but the truth is that he can’t keep track half the time. A lot of the rooms get sublet out randomly, or a significant other will start spending so much time around the place that they might as well pay rent, and Phil really isn’t good with new people. He gets along fine with Holly and Dave, but they’ve been there as long as he has and the closest they’ve ever come to a heart-to-heart was comparing anxiety meds over burned pancakes.

Chris and Sophie were there when Phil moved in, and they’d taken one look at him and decided to just keep shoving into his space until he liked having them there, like they were on a mission to adopt PJ’s sad, ghost-obsessed friend from the internet.

“You might be right,” Phil says, feeling a smile tug at his lips for the first time all morning. He’s already had a coffee - and a half, when PJ declared that not even Kath could make coffee taste good and shoved the rest of his Phil’s way - but he still doesn’t feel fully awake. “I’m only really friends with Chris and Soph because of PJ.”

“PJ is a good friend to you, isn’t he?” his mum hums. That slightly pointed tone doesn’t get to Phil the way it usually does, because he knows that she’s just trying to understand him.

It doesn’t escape Phil’s notice that he’s looking into a mirror whenever he sees his parents watching him carefully, waiting for him to tell them something he hasn’t explicitly said, because he’s been doing the exact same thing to his housemates for nearly two years.

Maybe he’ll tell his parents when he’s got someone serious or even, like, semi-serious. Longer than two dates would be a record at this point. But right now he already feels like he’s been one misstep away from disappointing them, and he doesn’t want to take the gamble that his sexuality will be that misstep.

He’s not up for this conversation, though, isn’t sure he’ll ever be, so he just says, “Yeah, he is.”

--

Dan is late. They’re so late, actually, that Phil’s wheel of worst case scenarios has been spinning silently and getting faster and faster the more caffeine he chugs. They roll in with flushed cheeks and a jacket that looks too thin, apologies on their shiny lips that Phil doesn’t even hear for a couple of seconds because he’s too busy staring at them.

“No worries,” Sophie says, interrupting their rambling before they lose another half hour to it. “You want something? I’m getting a refill.”

“No, no, let me,” says Dan. They shrug off their jacket and hang it on one of the empty chairs. Phil and his friends have co-opted the largest table in the place so they can spread out with their laptops and notebooks, and it doesn’t escape Phil’s notice that Dan has decided to sit next to him when they’ve got a couple of options. “I get free drinks if Gabe’s in a good mood. Anyone else need a refill?”

“Me,” Chris says, not looking up from his screen. “Not Phil. He’s cut off.”

“Hey,” Phil protests weakly. His heart rate really has picked up since they sat down, so he knows Chris has a point.

Dan grins, their soft cheeks giving way to the dimples that Phil is very quickly growing obsessed with. He just wants to make Dan smile and laugh constantly, to hear them cackle and see all the lines in their round face deepen with happiness.

Right. Phil watched a horror movie with PJ instead of unpacking this fluttering start of a crush last night, and now he’s just got to deal with it for the rest of the day.

As if it’s a compulsion, Dan clears the empty mugs from their table before heading up to the counter. Phil focuses on the EMF readings so he doesn’t get caught up on Dan holding four mugs by the handles with total ease.

PJ has got headphones on and his eyes closed, so he might not even have noticed that Dan is there. He’s been going through Sophie’s footage and his own audio recordings to try and find some anomalies while Chris looks for the weird visual stuff - they’re a great team at that, and it makes Phil feel like he’s not doing enough. Sure, he could find those things on his own, but not as quickly as they can when it’s a team effort, and they’re on a bit of a tight schedule here. Well, his housemates are. They’ve got actual jobs to get back to once the weekend is over.

Allegedly, Sophie is doing research on sigils, but it looks to Phil like she’s just doodling. Not that he really blames her if she is. He’s barely been paying attention to the chart he’s making of spikes in electromagnetism because he’s been so busy watching the door for Dan.

And Dan looks… good. They’re wearing chunky boots and a shirt that falls to their thighs - a dress, maybe, but it looks like a regular black t-shirt that got extended at the hem - with tight white jeans. The only colour on them is the plaid shirt around their waist and the shiny red product on their lips to match it. Phil watches them lean against the counter and grin at the older barista, and he’s so distracted by looking at their profile that he startles when a foot connects with his under the table.

“Stop staring,” Sophie says, quiet and smiling. “He’s going to notice.”

Phil considers correcting her, but then he remembers that he probably doesn’t have to. Dan had said any pronouns, that they didn’t care how they were referred to, so it would definitely be weirder to act like he knows better than Sophie.

He knows he won’t be able to use masculine terms for Dan. Not because they aren’t true, because he’s pretty sure they’re no less accurate than neutral or feminine would be, but because thinking of Dan as a maculine person is only going to allow Phil’s brain to fall into the familiar traps of gender in ways he doesn’t want to allow.

Gay monkey brain doesn’t need any more leeway in finding Dan attractive, that’s for damn sure.

“So, what are we doing?” Dan asks, interrupting Phil’s thoughts, and, wow, four mugs is a lot more impressive when they’re full of hot liquid. Phil marvels at Dan’s ability not to trip and spill it all as they dole out the coffee and teas.

“I’m doing the boring part,” says Phil. He turns his screen so Dan can see the Excel spreadsheet and laughs at the face they make. “Yeah. It's not glamorous, but it's the easiest way to find patterns in the EMF readings. Honestly, most of my job is just staring at things and finding patterns in them. Like, uh, what's that guy? With the butterfly splotches?"

"Worcestershire," Chris suggests.

"Rorschach," Dan corrects him, lips twitching like they aren't sure if they're allowed to laugh in Chris' face or not.

“That’s exactly what I said,” says Chris.

“You know EMF meters don’t have anything to do with ghosts, right?” Dan asks, ignoring Chris completely and leaning a bit closer to Phil to get a better look at his laptop. “I mean, none of this has anything to do with ghosts, really, but you’re more or less just measuring electricity.”

Phil is aware of that. He wonders if Dan thinks he just stumbles into haunted houses with equipment he hasn’t researched and waits to be spooked. He’s too distracted by how close Dan is and how good they smell to work up to proper offense, though. “Yeah,” he says simply. “But don’t you think it’s weird that the place still has electricity to begin with? Who’s paying for that?”

“A Wilkins, I’d imagine.”

“But why? If they’ve forgotten about the property or abandoned it on purpose, surely they wouldn’t still pay the bills.”

“Maybe they don’t handle their own finances,” Dan suggests. “How rich were these assholes?”

“I honestly don’t know,” says Phil. He taps his fingers in an erratic pattern on the edge of his laptop, trying to spark something in his mind.

It’s almost disappointing when Dan pulls away to dig out their own sleek Macbook out of their messenger bag, but Phil is also glad for it. He can think a lot easier when the warm scent of spice and mint isn’t clogging his brain.

Dan slots into the work as easily as if a space was left for them. They’ve got dozens of tabs open already and they start to go through them, cross-referencing magic things with Sophie in quiet tones and digging deeper into the Wilkins family than Phil ever would have thought to. Every so often they tap Phil on the arm and drag him into whatever rabbithole they’ve fallen down, chatting animatedly.

Phil knows, objectively, that Dan is a fan of his and that Dan is weird about research. It’s another thing entirely to watch it happen in real time, to see Dan pull up local census PDFs from the eighties and explain why chaos magic is bullshit in the same breath.

An hour or so goes by like that, all of them working on their own things with minimal words exchanged by everybody but Dan, and then Chris shouts loud enough to make the barista jump. Nobody else is in the coffee shop right now, which is lucky, because Dan’s got a hand over their chest and Sophie has slopped tea down her front. PJ, with his headphones on, simply cracks an eye open.

“What the fuck was that about?” Phil asks, putting his own palm against his chest to feel his heart race. Dan raises their eyebrows and looks at Phil, seemingly distracted from the startling, wordless exclamation.

They don’t get a chance to say whatever they’re thinking, though, because Chris is turning his laptop to the rest of the table and grinning wide like the Cheshire Cat. “I found something.”

Everybody gathers round, PJ getting up to lean over the back of Phil’s chair and Sophie getting so far into Dan’s personal space that Phil is certain they’re uncomfortable with it, and then Chris presses play upside down. It’s part of Sophie’s footage, Phil standing in the dim foyer and looking frustrated. Even without sound, Phil can tell that this is when he was arguing with Sophie about going upstairs. He squints, but he can’t see whatever it is that’s got Chris being so loud.

“What am I looking at?” PJ asks when the short clip ends, and Dan hums an agreement. Chris makes a frustrated noise like they’re being obtuse on purpose and rewinds to the beginning.

"There," Chris says, excited like he hasn't been since they got to Manchester. He taps his finger against the laptop screen. "D'you see it? D'you see the shadow?"

Now that Chris has pointed it out, Phil does see something. He moves his own laptop and notebook out of the way to pull Chris’ closer with a frown. Chris lets him do that, bouncing in his seat a little bit.

“That’s straight up a person,” Phil says slowly, tracing the outline of the shadow with the mouse. It’s behind him, in the entry to the kitchen, and it looks tall. Quite a bit taller than Phil, anyway, if he’s remembering that doorframe correctly. He decides to measure it next time they go so he isn’t going off memory. “I knew we weren’t alone in there. Like. I’m not crazy, that’s a human being.”

“That’s what I thought,” says Chris. “But press play.”

So Phil presses play. He watches the shadow stay perfectly still in the kitchen doorway until, suddenly, it’s not there anymore. He blinks, rewinds, and watches it disappear again.

Phil’s caffeinated brain is firing on all cylinders now. He grins and shoves his sleeves up to his elbows before he starts fiddling with the clip. The lighting gets played with until the shadow is more obvious and then he slows it down to 0.25 times speed to see if the shadow really just vanishes.

He presses play again. This time, with a very slow-motion Phil talking in the foreground, he sees the shadow move. It runs sideways, further into the house.

“What the fuck?” Dan breathes.

“We are not going back there without some serious protection,” PJ says, even firmer on the topic now.

“What, like sigils?” Dan asks, their pretty eyes wide even as they scoff. “You’d be better off with a fucking, like, baseball bat, mate. That doesn’t look like something that wants to be your friend.”

“I’ve got a crowbar in PJ’s trunk,” Phil says, absent-minded as he plays with the clip some more.

“Excuse me? When did you put that in my car?”

“Couple months ago.”

“Huh. How have I not noticed?”

“You’re not the most observant person I’ve ever met,” says Phil. He looks up at Chris, who’s got the same exhilarated look that Phil is sure he’s mirroring. They don’t get evidence like this very often, something so clearly there that it’s even got a skeptic’s mind racing. Phil exports the edited clip and then the original, putting them both into the Cloud and emailing them to himself. “Was this the only time you saw it?”

Chris nods, accepting his laptop back when Phil is done with it. “I’ll look through everything again, now that I know what I’m looking for and all, but I think that’s it.”

“Okay, cool.” Phil looks around at his friends and Dan, beaming. “Something weird is happening. I love it when something weird is happening.”

“I hate it when something weird is happening,” PJ says, which is a blatant lie.

“Well, we can’t go snooping around until it’s darker out, anyhow,” Sophie reminds them.

“Wait, we’re snooping?” Dan asks, their voice going up an entire octave in disbelief. “Like… you just saw that someone is there and probably not happy about people sneaking around, right? Don’t you have enough for a video already?”

“We’re spending the night,” says Phil. “It’s what we do.”

“It’s what you do,” PJ corrects him.

“Okay, yeah, you guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’m coming,” says PJ.

As if she can’t hear them bickering, Sophie turns to Dan with a sweet smile, her eyes twinkling with the same excitement in Chris’. They love this, just like Phil does. “What about you, Dan?” she asks. “Are you going to have a ghost sleepover with us?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Dan says, their eyes still glued to the back of Chris’ laptop like they can see the shadow through it.

“Guess you don’t have anything to be afraid of, then,” says Chris.

“Uh, axe murderers, maybe?”

“We know what we’re doing, Dan,” Phil reassures them. He reaches a hand out to pat at their arm, feeling a bit awkward about it. “But you don’t have to come with us if you’re scared.”

That makes Dan’s gaze shift. Suddenly, those brown eyes are staring right into Phil’s soul, defiant and beautiful and impossible to look away from.

“Who said I was fucking scared?”

[heads-in-the-clouds-spacecadet]

When asked to write a daily diary for anxiety management.

Here are a few days example....

Sunday 24th 

Mood/anxiety = numb. 

Additional meds =8mg of diazipam.

My whole body aches yet it shouldn't. My stomach is growling yet i feel physically sick. 

Things i ask myself....

Q.1 Will i leave my safe space, weighted blanket & mountain of pillows?

A.1 NO. 

Q.2 Will i manage my yoga routine

A.2 NO

Reasons....Why

I feel exhausted even though ive not been outside since Thursday. I just want the aching to subside the pain to leave. My jaw is clenched closed making eating an ordeal. I know this needs to be done. 

The dread of what passive aggressive message/s ill receive today either in person or written either way im struggling to motivate myself to move.

The Internet has been blocked for nearly a wk now. But i just let it slide as the saying goes choose your arguements "wifi is not the hill i want to die on" quote from TBBT. I hear Luke (my brother) is now in his bedroom and his door is closed. He has been banging around the house sending passive aggressive messages (sms) since 4am. My belongings that i left downstairs were thrown into my room. I'm nervous to leave my room till i know he is asleep. 

Flashback/negative thoughts....

1. How can my baby brother be an emotional manipulator. 

2. Last time i had to justify my everymove i was in Portugal in a very bad relationship. 

*****Ways im looking to excuse his behaviour. Find the cause to my sudden crash of low mood aka depression with a nice battle of anxiety.

---Logically i know its not the same. 

---Emotionally it hurts the same. 

The way he looks at me with disgust, resentment & impatience is the trigger. I realise this. How someone you love can make you feel this way. 

Solution: i decide to find a solution to the sudden conflict of money and i know there is a receipt in the car. I go to the normal place the keys are kept and theyre no where to be found. I look in all the obvious logical places they  could be and realise theyre hidden by my loving brother. His Reasons, 1-to stop me  buying shit (his words). 2. He has decided its his house, his car so therefore his rules. (Its all my mums btw)

As im downstairs i notice the kitchen is a mess. Pots all over from a feast Luke cooked up the night before. Or should i say 2am. 

So i feel defeated. Ive basically been cleaning non stop everytime i use a room as per gov guidelines and he just doesnt seem to comprehend the severity of the situation. 

I decide i need to eat. So i opt for Shreddies with Oat Milk (Luke has a serious milk allergy to the milk proteins in cows milk so im not fussed about milk and am happy to use alternatives) topped with vanilla soya yogurt, bannana, a few cranberries, 3 strawberries, sultanas and crushed Almonds. My logical brain is telling me eat well as we are not leaving the bedroom again unless desperate. 

I send a few messages to the family whats app (Luke refuses to be a part of this) and receive encouraging and support in return. Everyone is struggling in their own way so i appreciate having a small outlet between us all.

After food i sleep finally. 

Trying now to Ready myself for round 2 which i know is coming.

My mum calls i dont want to answer but i do. I explain the situation. She knows, she has dealt with his angry behaviour since he was 11yrs old. She stated she is coming to visit Tuesday as per new gov guidelines and we will meet in the park. She then asks me to pass the phone to Luke which i pointblank refuse. Im not ready for round 2 yet. Especially since he has his own phone he is just not answering making everyone worry about him but he just resents it. Its safe to say im proud i refused to do something. Gold star award ⭐

Monday 25th

Mood/Anxiety -  still no change from yesterday but i decide i have to force myself to move. Wash, clean and pack the additional things my mum has requested. 

Additional meds - i decided against taking anything today as i need to be clear headed for my appointment Tues and obvs my mums visit.

I check the weather see its a nice day decide washing is task 1. I set a bath running (multi tasking saving time from all the free time) and head downstairs to pop the washing machine on. Before i left my room i checked my phone for messages i have one from my mum telling me she has had words with Luke and that he needs to basically deal with the resentment in a more positive way. 

This explains all the banging and loud music yesterday early eve. He decided to actually clean. 

Anyhow I head downstairs. Kitchen is clean, messages all wiped from the black board. 

I decide i must try and communicate with Luke as we cant take the conflict with us to the park it isnt fair to our mum. 

I can hear him moving so send a sms message asking if he wants anything in the oven. No response. ***He did finally get out of bed at 3pm so a peaceful day so far. 

I decide food is required. I opt for protein soya burgers x2 with Spinach, tomatos, avacado, sultanas, almond pieces and some crumpets. I sit in the garden to eat.

All washing is out and drying but im to anxiety ridden and unmotivated to enjoy the sunshine. 

I head back to my room to sort bits for my mum and throw away my origami collection. It was over taking my room and again causing conflict. 

Lukes awake!!!. I decide to say hello. So far so good. He decides to make himself lunch and throws a fit because i ate a £0.45 avocado. I walk away as i know he is just venting and i need to not start the circle of negative thoughts or interactions. This is rewarded with resentment. Luke suddenly decides to do his own washing and cut the grass. Which means my washing is in his way. Before he even starts i am pulling in whats dry mainly because i want to go back to bed and need my bedsheets but also because he wont care if my washing turns green or is damaged. To my delight my sheets are dry but my pjs etc need another 30mins so i leave them whilst i go and make my bed. 

Im bellowed at about washing as Luke needs the line. So i head down stairs to reteive the rest of my belongings. 

Self soothing thoughts...

Im walking on eggshells trying not to provoke the beast and i need to keep going. Focus on my achievements. I left my room. I cleaned myself, my clothing and my pillow fort which has been my safe zone for the past 4days. 

Deep down thought i am disappointed as i know isolation and distancing is not a long turn solution as the yrs pass im becoming more and more isolated and lonely. 

Im downstairs again and i ask Luke if he wants anything popping in the oven as i was having toast. He requested 2 burgers and chips but on seperate trays as he was hungry. Easy to do popped into the oven. 40mins later chips are cooked he is plating up and all he says is "why have you cooked so many chips, clearly we now live in a household of wastefulness". 

This was the turning point for me id had enough for 1day and just told him to give it a rest and went to my room. 

Im dozing with Big Bang on in the backround and Luke is banging on my door. Mums on the phone. Confirming arrangements for tomorrow. I say a few oks with the occasional nod. 

I start packing the bits n bobs my mum has asked for and carry then downstairs so theyre ready for the car tomorrow am. 

Its PJs and bed time. Luke has other ideas. He is awake and up and about at 4.30am. Having a bath at 5am, doing weights after his bath at 6am then leaves in the car at 7am. He is back around 8am banging has a shower then decides to leave again in the car. He is meant to be house-bound until July 1st. This in itself causes me anxiety as i cant handle watching another member of my family die in front of my eyes. 

Thoughts...

Yes this is VERY dramatic. STOP IT BRAIN!

Take precautions all will be ok. 

Tuesday 26th

Mood/Anxiety = No change 

Additional meds = 4mg diazipam but late afternoon as i couldnt stop shaking and fidgeting.

My mum is coming to visit. Im trying not to think about the fact Luke is out of the house. 

We are having a picnic social distancing style. 

We head to the coop as Luke has decided even after knowing our mum all his life never be on time, we have to be early. I buy Costa coffee, fresh bread, hummus, bananas, diet coke and some biscuits the nature valley ones theyre really good. Luke doesnt go into the shop I think at least he is listening to some rules. He rolls his eyes as i spray the shopping with dettol spray and use the alcohol hand sanitizer for my hands and door handle etc. I just tell him its how it needs to be done.

We find a perfect parking spot under a bunch of trees. I notice that all the trees are trimmed in a very even shelf across the bottom. It looked like it was designed perfectly for people to walk straight onto the park from the car park without having to fight with tree branches or go around.  But in actual fact its the deer. They eat the lower leaves this made me smile and relax for a moment. WIN.

My mum is late so im nervous that she is 

1. Stuck somewhere (over reaction)

2. Lost (over reaction)

3. Just running late (normal reaction) 

Im a tad fidgety as im aware i have an appointment in 2hrs. Hurry up MOTHER...

I ponder about work and whether or not ill still have a job to return too. Had an email this am stating theyre cutting 200jobs from the team i work in. So not sure if thats a good thing or not. But its also increasing my anxiety as ive read the email and now have a burning desire to do the research to see what my probability of keeping my job will be. Before my brain can go on a major tangent my mum arrives. 

Shes brought Oscar (her poodle) he is so excited to see me. And the big hairy fluff ball  gave me the biggest snuggles. He has a major Covid hairdoo. My mum doesnt hug me which hurts but i know she cant. 

Picnic time. We sit in the middle.of a field away from everyone. Social distancing 10/10. My mum has made me my favourite cakes, rock buns. (Apparently these are a northern thing) but im feeling the love. Its fairly chilled only 1 disagreement with Luke over blinkin avocados.

Im clock checking and aware of impending appointment, im a little (understated) nervous because ive not had positive relationships with therapists or doctors in the past. 

[cncobby]

rainy/lazy days with cnco

uh disclaimer this is my first hc after finals and my brain lowkey is fried so i hope it isnt trash :D ily all

RICHARD

LOVES rainy days he gets to spend with aaliyah

you three have a very specific rainy day routine 

aaliyah is the first to wake up 

jumps in between you two

“ITS RAINING !!!!!!!”

at first richards like wtf its so EARLY

but then he see’s how excited aaliyah is and 

soft™ richard comes out immediately

breakfast consists of waffles with a TON of whipped cream and syrup

coffee for you and richard, hot chocolate for aaliyah

disney movie marathon of course

aaliyah puts on her fave disney princess dress 

she forces u and richard to dress up too

(richard in a plastic tiara is the best part of the whole day)

lots of duets between richard and aaliyah

arguing over which disney princess is the best

aaliyah ends up getting sleepy after your third movie 

canoodling time for u and richard ;)))

i just imagine lots of deep convos and cuddling during rainy days

small things like him playing with your fingers

you tracing over his tattoos

deep talks about the future 

“i want a family with you”

he like lowkey panics bc ur silent

“not riGHT NOW BUT-”

cutting him off with a kiss 

“shut up u dingus i want a family with you too, i just didnt wanna start crying”

JOEL

lots of early morning cuddling

you guys are both awake but just laying in each others arms

listening to the pitter patter of the rain

playing with his messy curls while he traces figures on your skin

*muffled* “joel we should really get up”

“five more minutes mom”

you guys eventually move the cuddling to the living room 

but first !! breakfast

making a special pancake breakfast that u guys have specifically reserved for rainy days

(joel acts like its so prestigious but its really just chocolate chip pancakes with other normal breakfast foods)

rainy days are sacred movie days

all of ur fave movies

watching bootleg musicals together??? yes

reenacting scenes from RENT, newsies, and in the heights

(convincing him do a wicked duet with u was the best decision ever)

(he makes a very handsome fiyero)

“may i have this dance m’lady?”

“are you asking me to dance with you to the hamilton soundtrack?”

“yes i am”

after lots of convincing he lets u straighten his curls

(its not a good look)

bubble baths together???? yes pls

romantic baths with candles and wine 

ERICK

you guys play soo many board games

u get hella competitive

but also suck at monopoly so he’s purposely letting u win

just to see ur cute reaction everytime he fake lands on your property

teaching him how to play chess

“but WHY can the pawn only move diagonal sometimes???”

“i honestly have no explaination babe thats the rule”

baking!!!

lots of smooches in the kitchen

making and decorating sugar cookies

“ur not allowed to show the boys these babe they’re all for me”

“well too bad i already made some for them”

“hEY i’m your bf i get cookie dibs”

a food fight happens suddenly????

u guys are a MESS 

there is flour everywhere and suddenly he’s kissing whipped cream off your mouth

eventually u abandom baking and end up buying cake

late night walk through the rain

you guys end up at a cozy cafe

end up sitting by the fireplace until 3am just talking to each other

he piggybacks u home bc ur literally half asleep when u leave

ZABDIEL

you guys def sleep in till noon at the very least

you’re obviously the first one up

he wakes up to the smell of you making coffee

*wrapping his arms around your waist*

“smells good amor”

“breakfast is on the way, i ordered doordash”

um harry potter movie marathon obviously???

you both know the movie by heart

reenacting scenes together

(ok but the sexual tension when you guys recreate the harry draco duel???)

*zabdiel pinning you to the couch*

“scared potter??”

*pushing him off of you*

“you wish nerd”

wearing your matching harry potter robes ofc

him playing guitar and trying to teach u guitar!!!!

“and put that finger there - why do you have such small hands for”

“wELL NOT ALL OF US ARE GIANTS”\

doing dumb shit like making him give u a piggyback around your entire house

“ONWARD TO THE KITCHEN”

him pretending to drop you

eventually he actually does but catches u in time and plays it off with a kiss

“nice try dork”

CHRISTOPHER

gets really excited bc he has an excuse to just stay inside all day

you’re barely awake when he carries you into the living room

“christopher what the fu-”

“loOK I MADE A PILLOW FORT”

you turn ur head and there lies the biggest pillow fort youve ever seen

“we’re not allowed to leave this fort since its raining”

“chris i have work to do”

“nOT TODAY YOU DONT”

grocery run to get ur fave unhealthy snacks

i feel like he’d love having you read to him??

like imagine cuddling and reading aloud to him while he plays with your hair

you guys end up ordering pizza and opening a bottle of wine and stay up the entire night talking about dumb stuff

dancing in the rain!!!

he’d prob get the dumb idea to kiss in the rain bc its romantic

so he pulls you out into the rain and you guys end up getting soaked 

but its all worth it bc he’s spinning you around and smooching you like theres no tomorrow

[slapmehoseok-blog]

Jungkook cheated on you.

╔═══════════════╗

Info:

• one shot

•2,185 words

•Jungkook X Reader X Jimin

•Jungkook’s cheats on you

╚═══════════════╝

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You and jungkook have been dating for 3 years. You’re guys anniversary is supposed to be in 3 days. You have never loved anyone as much as you loved him.

You took the day off work and were sitting at your local café with your best friend jimin. You always suspected he had a little crush on you, but he knew his boundaries. You guys were discussing Jungkooks and your anniversary. Last year Jungkook planned the date for you guys, so this year you guys agreed you would to plan it this time around. As you and Jimin finished looking up local restaurants to find the best one and then calling to make reservations, you decided to head out to the mall to find a cute outfit.

As you reached the mall you and Jimin went to look for the perfect dress and shoes for your date. You picked out 3 outfits and asked Jimin to pick the best one (since you couldn’t decide). He liked the second one the best. To be exact he said “ oh my god, you look beautiful” with his jaw dropped. So you thought that was the best pick. It was a skin tight silky red dress with a pair of plain black strapped heels.

After finding the perfect date night outfit you thought you would part ways with Jimin since it was around supper time and you were getting hungry. You and Jungkook usually works late into the evening and end up getting take out most of the time, so this time you thought you would make supper for him.

You arrive home and open the door, however your gut feels weird. Like something is wrong. You go to take your shoes off when you notice a pair of pink flats.

You dont own pink flats.

your heart and mind start racing

“maybe my mom or sister came for a visit and let themselves in” you said to yourself in a hushed voice

you proceed into the living room to look for them but find nobody. Weird.

maybe they’re just in the bathroom

You then decide to go to your room to drop off your shopping bags because they are getting heavy and you want to hide them before Jungkook gets home. Thats when u hear it. A female voice, you have never heard before coming from your room. You slowly push the door open not expecting what you were about to see.

frozen. Thats what you were, frozen.

You see a girl on top of Jungkook in your guys bed half clothed. You drop your shopping bags on the floor making a thud. Both Jungkook and this random girl eyes shot in your direction. He pushes the girl off him and says “ Y/N this isnt what you think”

“What is this....” you said in a quiet small voice as tears formed in your eyes. Thats all you could say before you’re heart began to race and you then began to panic. You turned around and ran for the front door. All you had on you were your car keys and your cell phone. You couldn’t believe what you just saw. Theres no way. There is no way Jeon jungkook cheated on you 3 days before your 3 year anniversary.

Not know where to go or what to do you got in your car and just started driving, and called your best friend. Jimin picked up on the 2nd ring

ring ring ...

“missed me that much already huh?” He said in a jokingly voice

you couldn’t speak. You just sobbed uncontrollably.

“Y/N?! Whats wrong? Calm down, are you okay?” He knew something was wrong.

“ Ji-Jimin...” is all you could say through your cries.

“Y/N where are you? Im coming to you.”

“at-at the park near-r my house” you said with an unsteady voice through your tears

“stay put ill be there in 5 minutes“ he said with slight panic in his voice

You hung up and looked down at your phone. 12 miss calls and 4 unread messages from Jungkook. You just cried as you opened the messages:

•Come back

• im sorry, come back baby

•i love you, im sorry please come back to me

•come back, let talk this out. I love you, i cant loose you

As you finished reading the messages you heard a knock on your car window. You look up to see Jimin with a worried face. You unlock the door and let him in. “Y/N whats wrong? What happened!?”

“h-h-he cheated on my Jimin, he cheated on me” you lost all control of yourself and sunk into Jimins arms as you started to shake because you were crying so much. Jimin just stayed there holding you for the next 30 minutes without saying anything. He couldn’t believe the words that just came out your mouth. Jungkook cheating on you? But he adores you? He would have never thought he could do something like this. Jimin was furious, so many thoughts were running around in his head.

as you finally calmed down a bit you look into Jimins eyes and thank him for coming to you so quickly. He was a true friend. You tell him everything that happened and he just looks at you with the widest eyes not knowing what to say. You show him the texts and miss calls from Jungkook and he mutters something under his breath but you couldn’t hear it. However, you could tell he was angry

Now not having anywheres to stay for the nights to come, Jimin suggested his place to you. You took the offer because you didnt really having anyone else. Plus you really didnt want to have to explain anything to your family just yet. You guys arrive at his place and he immediately goes to the bathroom to run you a bath. “maybe a warm bath will help you relax a bit? Ill get you some of my clothes for when you are done” he said so innocently. You didnt say anything but nodded your head yes.

once you were done with your bath you put on Jimins clothes. They smelled like him, which was kind of comforting. You slowly push the bathroom door open to see Jimin making you a tea. He brings it to you with a small smile (trying to cheer you up a bit).

“um, you can have my bed and ill sleep on the couch tonight. Does that sound ok?”

you still didnt really feel like talking. You felt so small right now. You just slightly shook your head and said “thank you” almost in a whisper.

You sat Jimins kitchen table with him in silence until you finished your tea. You started to yawn. You were exhausted from the excessive crying and taking a warm bath. You simply told jimin that you were going to lay down now since it was getting late. He took your tea mugs to the sink and followed you to the bed room. He took some pillows and a small blanket from his bed and brought it out the sofa in the living room. After laying them down, he peaked around the corner and asked if there was anything else he could get you before you went to bed. You replied with no thank you.

you both then went your separate ways. You laid in his king size bed curled up in a ball realizing how lonely you were and fell asleep without even trying. You started to have a bad dream remembering everything that had happened early that day which made you wake up from your sleep crying. You just laid there in silence crying. Tears just slowly falling down your face. You looked up to see the clock on Jimins wall, it was around 2:30am. Thats when you realized you heard the living room tv still on. Knowing you wouldnt be able to fall back to sleep for a while you decided to go out into the living room to see if Jimin was awake.

to your surprise he was still wide awake looking at the tv. Although he didnt really seem like he was watching it, he looked like he was thinking about something. You made a little coughing noise and it startled him. He looked in your direction

“ Y/N, you’re awake, are you ok?”

“ i just woke up from a bad dream, is it okay if i come out here for a little bit ? I dont want to be alone” You pouted

“of course you can y/n” he sat up instantly making room for you.

you guys sat and watched tv for about an hour when you started to feel sleepy again. You moved a bit closer to Jimin and rested your head on his shoulder. He leaned his towards yours and stroked your hair for you. You thought about how lucky you were to have him as a friend and dose off to sleep.

Jimin sat there silently looking at your face stroking your hair as you fell asleep. He just thought to himself about how beautiful you were and how sorry he felt for you. He kissed your forehead once he knew you were asleep and carried you to his bed. He pulled the sheet over your innocent body tucking you in. He wanted to be there for you every step of the way. He loved you, he never told you that but he truly loved you. He wanted to take care of you the way Jungkook never could . He would never hurt you the way he did. He just wanted to hold you tight and tell you everything was going to be alright.

the next morning, you woke up feeling better. Everything about the events that took place the day before settled in your brain. You felt numb, but better. You walked out to see Jimin passed out on his couch half hanging off. You slighty giggled to yourself at the sight of it. You then decided to look at your phone to see tons of missed calls and texts from Jungkook once again. You got an instant headache. You opened the texts and read all the bullsh*t he said to you. After finishing you simply replied “Goodbye Jungkook” and blocked his number.

you didnt want to wake Jimin up so you went to his kitchen to make yourself some breakfast. Cereal and toast. You ate silently until you heard Jimin groan and get up to go to the bathroom. Once again you giggled at the sight. He came back out and saw you sitting at the kitchen table with a slight smile.

“whats so funny” Jimin asked

“ oh what, um nothing.. nothing at all” you said

“okay weirdo” was all he said laughing to himself

you never really realized how much you cared for Jimin until the thoughts about the night befjungkookore came flooding back. You were so grateful that he was there for you. If it wasn’t for him you would be all alone probably still crying your eyes out. He made you feel better, his presence made you feel better. He made all the hurt go away.

~3 months after jungkook cheated on you~

Life has been better, you’re still not fully over Jungkook, but you are trying. You have only seen him once since that day to collect your belongings but didn’t speak a word to him. He watched you while tears flowed down his face. How dare he?! HE did that, not you. Disgusting was all you could think...

Anyways,

You spend most your days with Jimin now, he has been so kind to you and you never will be able to thank him enough for that night when he was there for you when you needed someone the most. However, he has been extra flirty these days but you don’t really mind. He is overly handsome and it puts you in a good mood. You got your own apartment in the same complex as Jimin so you guys are always together. He keeps you happy. He makes you feel certain ways that jungkook was never able to. He is the only person who allowed you to be your own person. Plus he is the one who can make you laugh and smile instantly whenever you’re sad. He has always been there for you.

You never thought you would feel this way about Jimin, but you think you may have feelings for him. You thought about telling him but are scared of ruining your relationship you have with him now. Should you tell him?!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Authors note:

okayyy, thats all for this one shot fanfic. Ive never done this before so please dont be too harsh on it lol it took my a while to do too.

please let me know what you think! It is very unedited, i know 😅

should i do another one?

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[reesewestonarchive]

chapter nine / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

Nakoa wakes to darkness. He finds out easily that he’s in a vehicle; the rumble of tires beneath him, the loud, high-pitched squeal of rubber on asphalt.

The hard, unforgiving feel of metal against his shoulder. He opens his eyes, but it makes no difference. He sees slivers of light, but nothing really. Nakoa blinks, once, twice, and, when he turns over, finds himself grateful for the lack of light, because just the slivers of daylight peeking through are enough to send spikes through his brain.

“You awake?” He jolts at the sound of a voice, relaxes when Rem adds, “Hey, it’s just me.” His words are near slurring, though. Nakoa spins his head to look for him, nervous, worried, but it’s impossible to see in the darkness. “I—” Rem huffs a frustrated breath. “Can’t see a fucking thing—where are you?”

One of Rem’s boots finds Nakoa’s ribs. He mutters an apology, then says, “Hang on—” before he reaches down, his hand skirting along Nakoa’s back until he reaches Nakoa’s hands, clasped behind him. “Hold still.”

The ties release after just a second, and when Nakoa pulls them up, he asks, “How the fuck did you get out of them?” The plastic rubbed his wrists raw, even as short as they were on.

He can hear Rem’s grin in his voice when he speaks, though, and his presence makes the dark, unforgiving trcuk a little less foreboding. “You think I leave the motel without a knife?”

Nakoa would laugh, if he could. Instead, he reaches a hand out, trying to find Rem in the dark. “Where—” he says, before he makes contact with Rem’s knee. Relief settles in his stomach, and he reaches out for Rem’s hand, squeezes it. Feels better already when Rem squeezes back.

“You okay?” Nakoa asks. “That looked.” Bad. Terrible. Nakoa sees it no matter where he looks, Rem lying on the asphalt like that.

“Mm.” But his voice sounds far away. “Nakoa.”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck?”

Nakoa should have known, knows he should have. That he should have said something to Rem, but… “My father’s—” The word tastes bitter on his tongue. “…in imports.”

“Drugs,” Rem says, immediately. “Fucking hell, Nakoa.”

It’s how Nakoa got started. It’s why he kept going with them. Michael’s into more than just weed, though, and therein lies the problem. That Nakoa knows. Michael had beat him, when Nakoa found out, and has since used his strength to his advantage. Try as he might, Nakoa can only throw a punch if he’s catching someone off guard, if they can fight worse than he can.

Michael doesn’t fit the bill, and he’s always carrying.

“I didn’t have a choice!” Nakoa says. “And I thought. Maybe, if I wasn’t there… why would he waste a bunch of bullshit on me? Men, resources.” Why would he follow Nakoa across the country? Nakoa, of all people?

“You stole from him,” Rem says. His voice comes out flat. “Nakoa.”

“You don’t get to play like you wouldn’t have done the same fucking thing,” he says, tone sharp. He pulls back from Rem, smells blood on his hands as he wipes them down his face. “How often have you stolen whiskey?”

“It’s legal! You wanna compare that to coke?”

Exhausted, suddenly, Nakoa says, “I really need you to not fucking judge me. I stopped, okay? He didn’t notice, and even if he had, what was he gonna do?” Michael hates Nakoa; always has. A disappointment, and that isn’t even considering Rem. That’s not considering the fact that Michael knows, and always has, that Nakoa beds men as often as he does women. It’s been like this since Nakoa was born, his father distant for work, and Nakoa eager for his approval and stumbling on his work at thirteen.

“He couldn’t do anything about it then,” Nakoa says. “But now what’s stopping him? His kid went missing. No one’s gonna care if I end up in a ditch.”

“Don’t fucking joke about that.”

Nakoa shuts his mouth, though. Taps his fingers on the metal on the floor. He says, “I should have told you.” He wants to apologize; can’t.

Wishes that he could just… touch Rem. No expectation. Find comfort in his touch.

He holds his hands to himself, and neither of them speak.

Eventually, the van slows to a stop, and doesn’t start again. Rem gets to his feet, says, “I got this.” Nakoa hears the knife unlatching in his hand. “Stay back.”

“Don’t being a knife to a gun fight, you—” Nakoa sighs. “Just—get behind me.”

“I’m not going to let you—”

“He’s my father,” Nakoa says, his voice cracking. “Let me deal with him.” He thinks about clocking Rem on the head again, but if he got knocked out that bad, he might already have a concussion.

Nakoa doesn’t say, “I want you safe.” He doesn’t say that it means more to him that Rem is okay, that Rem can go home. Maybe Rem thinks he’s worthless, but he’s Nakoa’s entire world.

The door slides up, and Nakoa blinks against the blinding light. Rem stands behind him, body heat warming Nakoa’s back. Michael’s behind his men, chatting on the phone, but Nakoa doesn’t move, not until Michael says, his voice almost bored, like he’s not still devising a plan. “Come join me for dinner.”

Nakoa blinks. “Pretty fucking dramatic entrance for dinner.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “You could show a little respect.”

Already disappointing his father, and they’ve been reunited for a matter of minutes. Nakoa holds his gaze and says, “You wanna kill me, go ahead.”

Behind him, he hears Rem make a small, distressed noise. “Nakoa—”

But Nakoa’s tired of living in this hole, in his father’s shadow, too afraid to move beyond Michael and his wants. Too afraid Michael might follow through on his threats.

“Just come. We’ll discuss what I plan to do with you at dinner.” Michael sighs, rubbing his forehead. “I keep forgetting about the carry on.” Nakoa catches his attention shifting to Rem, wishes it wouldn’t. “Hm. Looks like he’s the reason they’re free. Someone remind me we need handcuffs.”

When Nakoa doesn’t go forward, Michael sighs, says, “Someone grab him, please. Leave the other.” He sighs. “And tie him up this time?”

One of the men hauls Nakoa from the truck, by the hair, the shoulder. Nakoa swears, grips at the guy’s wrist and tries to walk with him, can’t. Holds tight and tries to lessen the pressure on his hair, anyway.

He watches as Rem crawls from the truck, eyes wide with fear, brandishing his knife. In comparison to giant men with handguns, he looks like a small, terrified child. Nakoa knows better than to call out his name, so he doesn’t.

His chest aches, and a half-strangled, “Rem—” escapes from his throat, just as the man dragging him pulls him into a building. Before the door shuts, Nakoa catches sight of Rem lashing out, the sound of a gunshot, then… Nothing.

Nakoa finds himself dropped at Michael’s feet, scalp burning, Michael staring down at him with something akin to disinterest. “I wish things could have gone differently for you, Nakoa.”

This is nothing like the Michael Nakoa remembers. This man is… different. Distressingly calm, quiet.

Nakoa prefers him screaming. Calm breeds terror in Nakoa’s chest, and he doesn’t care for the way it burrows in and refuses to leave.

“Up.” It’s not a request. “Dinner.”

Tossing a scowl back at the man who’d dragged him, Nakoa rubs his wrists, follows Michael through the warehouse.. He needs to stay around until he can get back to Rem, anyway. After that… who cares? Michael can do whatever he wants with Nakoa, as long as Rem gets out of this safely.

Michael leads him into another room to a table sitting alone, like one in the movies, covered with a tablecloth, a single lightbulb illuminating the table and nothing more.

With a swallow, Nakoa takes his seat, still rubbing his wrists. Michael sits in the other chair, and, neat as can fucking be, he undoes his napkin and lays it across his lap.

“Nakoa,” Michael says, and now he sounds more like himself, like the Michael Nakoa remembers. “You are a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“So the pleasant, calm druglord, that’s just for your employees. But your son, all bets are off.”

Michael’s gaze is sharp, piercing, and Nakoa wishes he’d kept his mouth shut. “Ungrateful. You know,” he says, already lifting the lid from his dinner, “you really don’t understand the sacrifices I’ve made for you. The resources I’ve wasted finding you.”

As if Nakoa asked for it. As if he gives a shit about whether Michael goes broke. As if he cares, for half a second, what Michael loses. He sits back, crosses his arms. Waits.

“I can see you’re going to be difficult, so let me lay this out for you.” He pops a bite of dinner—steak, because of course it is—into his mouth, and chews. Slow. Nakoa knows the tactic well, terrify them with their own imagination. “You’ll come home with me.”

“Over my—”

“—and we can leave your friend here to fend for himself.”

“Next.”

Eyebrow raised, Michael cuts back into his steak. “I could just as easily kill your friend, you know. He hardly seems like a man someone will miss.” At Nakoa’s expression, Michael laughs. “Don’t tell me you think—” He shakes his head. “You’re a fool, Nakoa.”

Better a fool than a prick, Nakoa thinks, but he doesn’t say so. Michael married a gentle woman, one he can scare into submission, and he thinks Nakoa’s life choices are worth judging. “Next option,” he says, through gritted teeth, staring hard at the table, at the knife marks in the wood. Imagines what it might be like to see those on his skin, instead. If he’d even life through it.

“I could kill the both of you. You’ve already been missing for how long? None of the authorities would think twice about a couple of stupid, runaway queer boys ending up dead. Two of them…” He clicks his tongue. “Well. Is that even a tragedy worth the news cycle?”

And Michael wonders why he ran away. Nakoa lifts his gaze, reluctant, up towards Michael’s face, hates the giddy expression on his father’s face. He’s a bastard, and Nakoa knows he’s always enjoyed his work a little too much, but he’d hoped maybe, underneath it all, there was something that made him human. Now he’s not so sure.

“Easiest way to tie up loose ends, don’t you agree?”

Nakoa wants to tell him to fuck off, but Michael won't hesitate to cut him with the knife on his plate. Never has before. Never hesitates, once he makes his mind up. “Why the holdup?” Nakoa asks, but his voice shakes. “Sounds like you got it all figured out. Why not just kill me now?”

He’s losing his patience, Michael. The joy drains from his expression and he returns to his dinner, almost bored. “Unfortunately, I still think there might be some use in you. I could use you to make an example. I think using you as a living example carries more weight, don’t you?”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

Pointing a fork to Nakoa’s plate, Michael says, “Eat. It’s the last time you’ll get the opportunity in a while.”

“What about Rem?” Nakoa does his best to hold his voice steady, to keep Michael from making any more shitty comments, but it still comes out wrong.

“I think I’ll be doing the world a favor, taking him out.” He reaches for his drink, then sighs. “Nakoa, please. If you don’t eat, I’ll be forced to take other measures.” Like what, Nakoa wonders, but doesn’t ask. Sighing, Michael sets his fork down and says, “Nakoa. It’s in your best interest to work with me.”

“Too fucking bad.”

“I can make your life a living hell, you know.”

“You already did. What can you do to make it worse?”

Michael raises an eyebrow, says, “You think you’re in love with the man outside. Not sure where you got that, but fine, I’ll play along. You’re right in considering yourself worthless, so I understand I can’t use you against yourself.” With a cock of his head, Michael leans back in his seat. “I might be able to use him yet. Suppose I better put in the call to keep him in one piece after all.” He pulls a walkie talkie out of his shirt pocket and switches it on. “Hold my previous order,” Michael says, glaring at Michael. “Plans have changed. We’re going to have a little fun.”

[turtle-steverogers]

Down for the Count

i wrote chaos earlier so here’s some angst.  this isnt my best im sorry uhhhhh forgive me and my jafl;kdkjfd;lkjfs;lakdjf i dont know yall im sdkja;ldsk its fine everythings fine akjdf;alkdjf;ls

warrnings: past minor character deaths, nightmares

ship: platonic ralbert

editing: do i ever?

Albert felt as if he was looking through someone else’s eyes as he watched his father seizing in the front seat.  Screams were erupting from his brothers, Elijah and Thomas’, throat as his mother desperately tried to steer the car to safety.  It was no use.  They were in the middle of the highway- there was nowhere to go.  Subconsciously, Albert fumbled to make sure his brothers were buckled.  He held an arm over Elijah’s middle and grasped Thomas’ hand tightly as they sped over the median.  The world seemed to distort as a black SUV barreled towards them.  His mother was screaming now as well.  He was certain that he was screaming too, but as the collision happened, everything went blank.

Albert’s eyes flew open, his heart pounding fast and heavy in his chest.  The lights in his room were still on and his phone was pinned underneath him.  He became aware of the fact that his socks were still on and he was not under the covers.  He must have fallen asleep on accident.  

Sitting up shakily, the images from his nightmare turned into vivid memories of that awful day.  No one had survived.  Not truly anyway.  Granted, it was only his mother who had been killed in the initial crash, but his father was pronounced dead at the hospital only a short two hours later.  This left Albert to take care of his thoroughly traumatized younger brothers, which was no easy feat considering he was dealing with his own baggage from the incident.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he became aware of how lightheaded he felt.  He wrapped his arms around his middle, trying to calm down, but his breathing was gaining speed and he knew that if he wasn’t careful, he’d spiral into a breakdown.  He needed to calm down.  He needed to distract himself.  He needed Race.  

He blindly rolled out of bed, slipping off his socks in the process.  When he got to the hall, he noticed light pouring out from under Race’s door.  He was still awake.  As he reached for the doorknob, he hesitated, suddenly feeling self conscious. A wave of shame washed over him and he quickly withdrew his hand, reaching up to run it through his hair in order to expel some nervous energy.  What did he want Race to do?  Hold him like some child?  Rock him back and forth like an infant until he could breathe again?  No, he couldn’t ask that of Race.  He’d already done so much for him after the car crash.  He helped him with his brothers and listened to him as he screamed curses at the world for damning him with this life.  He didn’t need him to help him through some pathetic nightmare- especially since it had been literal years since these memories had plagued him.

He stared at the door blankly, feeling distantly angry at himself for being so weak.  His fists clenched at his sides and he dug his fingernails into his palms so hard they stung.  

He was just about to turn around and go back to his own bedroom when he heard footsteps behind him, then, “Al? What are you doing?”

He jumped and turned around, eyes widening as he made eye contact with Race, who was dressed in boxers and a hoodie.  He was wearing his glasses and holding a mug of something- most likely warm milk with honey: his go to midnight drink.

“Uh,” Albert swallowed around the lump in his throat, his heart rate rising again.

Race’s eyebrows furrowed in concern and he took a careful step towards him, “You okay? You look pretty spooked, is there a spider in your room again?”

Albert shook his head, looking down to his hands and wringing them together.  He took a shaky breath, “N-no, I just, uhm..”

“You just what?” Race asked slowly, “You’re kinda freaking out, man, which is freaking me out. What’s got you worked up?”

“I kinda had a bad dream,” Albert mumbled, refusing to look at Race.

“What, like a nightmare?” Race asked, confusion and concern evident in his voice.  Albert nodded and even though he wasn’t looking, he could feel Race soften, “What about? Wait, here, come in.” Albert stepped out of the way to let Race into the bedroom, then followed him to his bed.  They sat across from each other and Albert tucked his legs under him, picking at a thread on Race’s sheets.  He was aware that his breathing was still a little unsteady, but he couldn’t seem to slow it.  

“Hey,” Race said, breaking the silence, “Talk to me, man.”

Albert steeled himself and flicked his eyes up to Race’s.  He quickly felt overwhelmed and fixed his gaze back on the bed, “I had a dream about the accident.  It hasn’t happened in a few years and..I don’t know.  Kinda shook me up, I guess.”

Race hummed sympathetically, “I’m sorry, dude. D’you know if anything triggered it?”

Albert shrugged, “I dunno.  I don’t even remember falling asleep, which might honestly have something to do with it if that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Race sipped at his mug, “If you were out of your usual sleep routine, your brain mighta flipped out a bit.  Do you wanna talk about the dream more?”

Albert pursed his lips, emotions rising in his throat as the dream played in his mind again, “No,” he choked, “I really, really don’t.  It’s too much, it’s-“

“Hey,” Race cut him off, hastily putting his mug on his bedside table and crawling over next to Albert, making sure not to touch him, “Hey, you don’t gotta say anything you don’t wanna.  How about this,” he bit his lip, considering his options, “It’s a Friday, so we don’t gotta be anywhere in the morning.  What d’you say we fuck sleep and go watch Phineas and Ferb, yeah?”

Albert felt his chest loosen and he looked up at Race, “Uh, yeah.  Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” Race grinned, “Alright c’mon. I’ll go make you some hot cocoa while you set up Netflix.”

“Actually can I have some of that warm milk with honey you make?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Race bounded off the bed and Albert stood too, following him to the living room.  

“Oh and hey, Al?”

“Hm?”

“You can always come talk to me.  Any day, any hour.  Don’t feel like you have to hesitate.”

Albert blushed, warmth spreading through his stomach. He smiled, “Thanks, Racer.”

“‘Course.”

-

thanks for readin, chiefs

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What have been some creepy encounters you've experienced? Story please?

ive waited quite some time to respond to this message, like literally a long ass time lol, probably more than a year, sorry. i feel like i have several encounters to tell you about, but what im going to relay to whomever might be reading this right now is a thing that went on over the course of an entire year.

quick backstory: during the better part of 2017 i lived with my then boyfriend (who now is just my best friend since we broke up in october this year) in the old parts of the city center. all buildings in that area are from around 1870, and the building where we lived is one of the first ones to have been erected. his aparment was on ground level and it has all the features of turn of the century housing with the fireplace, original floors, weird nooks and crannies etc, and looks as if it was meant to be lived in by service people/kitchen personnel. it also had its original door (i suppose) with the kind of springy locking mechanism where you have to turn the key and pull down the handle real hard simultaneously to open from the outside, the knob is very tough to turn from the inside, and it locks itself instantly once you close it (so if you forget your keys youre basically screwed). it makes a loud brassy springy clicking noise when the lock shuts or opens. takes a lot of effort to open this old door and its loud, is what im saying. the entire apartment is all original details, the flooring in the corridor has its original wood planks, original ventilation, weird but beautiful glass panels on the door etc.

the key and the door unlocking from inside

first off, when he moved in, the landlord was missing a key in the set of four. my then boyfriend, lets call him C, didnt really think about it. he moved in, gave his dad one of the extra keys. the first weird thing that happened was when C got back from work in the afternoon maybe two weeks after moving in. in the middle of the corridor, on the floor, he sees the missing key. like smack dab in the middle of the narrow corridor leading from hallway to the bathroom, next to his boots. its too far in to have been thrown in by someone through the letter slot in the door, and could not have been dropped there by neither him nor his father since they had all of their keys. so he’s like, weird, but doesnt really think about it. he also told me that around that time he heard coughing from the corridor when inside his bedroom (it opens up to the right from the corridor once you step inside the apartment), but also waved it off since it might as well have been neighbours just outside in the hall.

next weird thing that happens is after we had started dating and i pretty much lived there with him, and this time i experienced it. i started work around noon whereas C left around 6 in the morning. so im in bed and its maybe 10 o’clock, and i wake up to that loud, springy clicking noise of the locking mechanism in the door. and im like, what is he doing home at this time? so i get up, but no one is there. the door is also juuust a little bit askew, as if someone was going outside but then decided not to, like its just shoved open enough for the lock to click open, but the door isnt opened, its still within the width of the doorframe if you get what i mean. so i look outside and the hall is empty. i should have been able to hear steps in the very echo-y stairwell (which is also old and the acoustics are fantastic because we hear everytime a neighbour passes by, and subsequently opens the building entrance door which is also a loud, heavy door), but heard neither steps, up or down the stairs in the hall, nor anyone opening the heavy entrance door, or any evidence of human activity. all is quiet. i get a bit freaked out, because that means that unless someone else had a key, our door was unlocked from inside.

i tell C when he gets back, and after this is where shit starts to ACTUALLY go down.

im going to try to remember all of this in the correct order, but i know it started in january 2017, and went on until he moved out in december.

the song in the hallway

C talks a lot in his sleep. sometimes he even sings, he speaks in english (we’re swedish) and  he has been known to get up and take a shower at one in the morning while still asleep thinking hes late for work. for those who are on heavy sleeping medication, u get it. its not weird, mostly its funny, and its just because of the medication. these things go on literally every night and it was a bit hard to fall asleep to loud talking and incoherent words sometimes because he used to go to bed three-four hours earlier than me, but i managed just fine. one night we were in bed, it wasnt that late but C was asleep, i was on my phone next to him. i hear this weird melody being hummed, thinking its coming from C i take out my earplugs and check, but its coming from the fucking hallway. again, no one outside in the stairs, just someone or something humming a melody in the hallway. i remember my hair standing up all over my body and i was glad i slept closest to the wall, C shielding me from being viewed directly from the hallway. somehow i manage to fall asleep. and this part is going to sound weird and like its made up, im very aware, but having been through this crap i dont really care because i know it happened: the morning after C was off from work, and i for once woke up before he did. if i wake him up and his medication hasnt ‘wore off’ yet i guess (dont really know how that works) he’ll be disoriented and it takes a few minutes for his brain to register that hes awake and he can speak coherently. i did not poke him, i did not try to wake him up, but all of a sudden i hear him humming that same melody, very much deep asleep. that freaked me out.

the mimicking begins

another night around that time, i was up at around 2-3 am to go to the bathroom. i wiggle out of bed, out into the corridor, at the end of the corridor is the bathroom. when im done, i scurry back into the bedroom, information of value here i guess is i always sleep with my socks on so im wearing socks, aka i dont make a lot of noise when i get up. when im back in bed, looking at my phone, i hear footsteps - from the corridor. the freakiest thing is its like they are imitating the way i walked back from the bathroom, i can so CLEARLY hear sockless, BARE feet on the creaky floor of the hallway, literally stepping at the same pace i did. that was my first thought; someone is imitating my footsteps. i can hear them from behind the wall in the hallway, coming to a stop at the opening into the bedroom. like someone is standing there, watching. i get so scared i hide under the covers and press myself close to C and cant stop feeling icy shivers down my spine. i also cant stop thinking that someone or something waited for me in the kitchen, then walked behind me, mimicking me, and is now standing at the beedroom threshold, watching me. somehow i fall asleep, or i dont, i cant remember.at this point, im thinking somethings up with that hallway.

the poorly covered hole

this part isnt anything scary/supernatural really, just uncomfortable and kinda sets the tone for living in this apartment at the time: in the bedroom, C had placed a clothing rack next to the old 1900s floor-to-ceiling ventilation pipe that is plastered into the wall in the corner. literally just a wide ass pipe in the corner of the room that isnt in use anymore. behind the rack, leaning against the pipe, he had put a rarely used pink neon tube light and i decided it would look cool to try it out, but it was dusty in that little nook thing where it was so i had to clean it up a bit. while moving the clothing rack to vacuum, i realize there is a hole at least as big as my hand in the side of the pipe. i was like ??the frick is this? and i poke into it and there is just this thin paper membrane covering it. you could almost fit an entire head through there, and i can literally feel wafts of cold wind moving through it. there probably used to be an attached pipe of some sort to allow smoke from the kitchen to go up into the ventilation like a hundred years ago, but the thought that this at least 1 meter wide pipe, wide enough to fit a person, goes up through probably all apartments above us, up through the attic, ending as an open chimney in the roof, has this big hole in it is just… unsettling to me. obviously the pipe is not in use anymore, but that kind of only made it scarier. ive seen enough scary movies for that to make me feel a bit paranoid lol. i was almost expecting a hand to push through that paper when i touched it. but i covered it back up with the clothing rack and nothing really happened with that.

the mirror incident

one night, me and C were getting ready to go out. im getting ready in the hallway, because thats where the big wall-sized full figure mirrors are (of course). C comes out of the bathroom, runs past me infront of me, veering off to the left into the bedroom, wearing only underwear. i look after him in the mirror, i can see him in the bedroom, in front of his clothing rack. im fixing my hair at the time, both hands on my head. to my direct left is the front door and the space with our shoes and jackets. right in front of the door, for a split moment while im turning back to keep looking at myself in the mirror, i see what looks exactly like C but paler, wearing only underwear, standing in the same position as me, turned away from me as if the thing is also looking in a mirror. heads on its head like its fixing its hair, just like me. imitating me. i get shivers just typing this down. i tell C what i just saw, i literally went: ”uh C? i just saw a man infront of the door”, dumbfounded, and we both got a bit freaked out, and got out of there pretty quickly.

learning about demons

a few weeks later, C invites his friend to comes to visit. im not there at that time so i never met her, but she apparently had a knack for sensing ghosts and picking up on energies etc. he told me that when he got up to get them more wine from the kitchen and left her alone in the couch in the bedroom, she said she really felt very uncomfortable sitting with her back to the hallway corridor. she also told him that ghosts and spirits are usually not malevolent and you can get by fine living in a ‘haunted’ house. but when he told her what we had experienced so far, she told him that ghosts usually dont behave that way, and that a rule is that if something is imitating or mimicking you, its probably not a ghost, but might be signs of fucking DEMONIC ACTIVITY. apparently demons like to mock and impersonate people. friendly caspers dont do that. fun.

realizing the triangle/cursed ground

so, yeah. weird things kept happening. but we had jobs, sometimes you just gotta ignore that shit and try not to live your life terrified of demons. which we still were for the record; i dont think we ever left each other alone in that apartment for any longer than necessary after that, i remember C actually staying at his dads during the time i went away to see my family.

anyway, when we had started dating C had introduced this podcast to me. its a swedish one where a guy called jack reads creepypastas, analyzes spooky stuff, old folklore, all that stuff, and also reads original content and real stories written by listeners. its really good and really creepy. so that podcast had been going for maybe two years by then so i had a LOT to catch up with, wich wasnt a bad thing at all. i remember by this time is was summer and i was out on the street smoking a cigarette after doing dishes, and the episode i was listening to was about the last of the execution spots/gallow hills (?? i guess is the correct term? not sure) in sweden. remember, we lived in the old part of the city center, in the northern part of the city. very old buildings, very old everything. so jack commences to talk about the famous last gallow hill in [our city] and where it was located, when the final execution took place and for what, how many people had been killed there and its entire bloody history. i almost drop my cigarette, because he says it was located on zenithgatan (”zenith street”), and where the gallows used to be there is now a kindergarten. so im on our street, just outside our kitchen windows, looking right at that specific kindergarten. just across the main road. i will provide a screenshot of a map and a street view of what i was looking at to let you know i am not making this up:

so the street we lived on is called döbelnsgatan (”döbeln street”, döbeln is apparently a city in germany, i just googled that), at the very end of the street, our citys main old cemetary is juuust beyond our line of sight to the right from the kitchen windows and where i was standing. however, across from us: zenithgatan, with all of its bloody history. i couldnt help but to wonder how far the blood could had flown from there and where the bodies had been thrown, if this entire part of town is built on bloody ground etc. it really gave me massive creeps.

a few years later (which would be a few months ago, when i moved in to the room where i live presently) i happened to land a conversation about ghosts with my new flatmate. turns out she also used to live in those neighbourhoods, in an apartment on the third floor literally overlooking the cemetary, but on celciusgatan, which would be the next street over from döbelnsgatan (see map). and she told me, without me having said anything at all about all of this, that that part of town including her apartment has always been haunted. she used to see a shadow of a man through frosted glass doors, moving around in rooms that were closed when both she and her son and her sister were in the kitchen. she didnt experience any malice however, and also had someone come check it out for her, but apparently she just had nice ghosts. but we agreed that yeah, these buildings are literallty inbetween a cemetary and the gallows; there are probably bound to be a lot of lost souls wandering around.

this could also be over-analyzing it, but if you draw lines from the cemetary to the site of the executions to döbelnsgatan/celciusgatan, it makes a perfect triangle. while googling the translation of ‘döbeln’ just now it says right in the wikipedia description that it is located ‘somewhat in the middle of a triangle, made up by three cities’. coincidence, perhaps. probably. but still. by now im pretty conviced of anything that could hold any significance about all of this.

the painting

later on, maybe by a few months, and C tells me when i get home from work that he had woken up that day, after i went to work, from the painting atop of his big secretaire/chiffonier/bookcase (its really a big piece of heavy furtinure, but lets call it bookcase just to be simple) coming crashing down behind it. that painting had stood there since january, at least 9-10 months, and had not fallen down ONCE. it was leaning against the wall, perched safely and steady on the bookcase, with at least a centimeter bookcase until the gap between wall and furniture. i remember thinking last time i looked it was covered in dust because no one even as much as dusted that thing off, and there had been no weird vibrations in the walls that would have shook it either. by this point we’re both very, very uncomfortable in this apartment.

the painting and the hollow in the wall

and here comes the final thing that happened before he moved out, the part that we have on film. ill have to ask my ex for the footage if anyones interested in it, which is fine.

C was doing a collaboration with some people on instagram, an educational account about depression, self-harm, anxiety and such. they gave him the assignment to film himself talking about personal experiences, i think they wanted maybe 13 videos or something like that, the theme being ‘death’ (those videos are still up, im unsure if they posted this one as it kind of strayed from the mental health stuff a bit, but i know C has it still). so at this time - maybe september or october? i really dont know exactly when this was, i could probably scroll on their instagram account but im too lazy - he was filming himself a lot. so, he brought up the painting crashing, and filmed us both while demonstrating how it physically could not have moved and crashed down behind the bookcase because of the way it stood on top of it. it would have been one thing if it fell forward, but then it would have landed on its front and fallen in front of the bookcase, probably shattered the glass. but it fell BEHIND it. on camera, you can see my hands pushing on it to demonstrate the way it went down into that snug space inbetween. you would have had to physically push on it, at least a centimeter back, from the front. so for some reason, i get the very random idea to knock on the wall behind it. which means, i stand in the corridor and knock on the corridor wall that divides the bedroom from the hallway. and i swear to god, this is ON FILM. i knock all over the wall and its all concrete - except for THE SPOT EXACTLY BEHIND THE FUCKING PAINTING. the wall is hollow. right behind the painting. where it stood leaned against on the other side. i cant explain why i all of a sudden tried knocking all over the wall, or why the actual fuck there is a hollow square in the middle of the corridor wall, but that really fucked us up. there were just too many weird coincidences, you know.

like, all of this happened, or seemed to be centered around, the corridor. as if our hallway was some nexus for supernatural activity. and with that hollow thing, it was like it was starting to make its way into the bedroom, you know? unsettling.

thankfully, C moved out of there in december and we didnt have to stay there anymore, but i sometimes pass by and think about asking the current tenant or the neighbours if they experienced anything strange. its just so eerie. the mimicking parts were the scariest to me, and i get chills thinking about them and reading it even now.

so, thats my long, long overdue creepy encounter. i am VERY aware i sound insane but, hey. what can i do. i am not one for lying and i know that so thats all that matters tbh. i have other encounters as well, but living in that apartment takes the fucking cake.

[castlehead]

beauty seems to be really funny most of the time and i like dat.

this idea that sends pop definitions of beauty running for the hills makes for some

quality distance, if only one step back.

what if i had any idea who i was but could see into everybody else

phone home cheeky cosmic touch m8 gonna think this is too easy

yeah but not let’s feel this way without before examining ourselves

for anything fake about it first parting from the idea that there wasnt anyway

and then parting cuz that knows so much

that part of me knows so much abt what do you call it extreme fear of maudlin

i run naked thru the grass singing abt yesteryear

                        ...There’s a move in social situations I like to call, “around the sun” whereby you wait for the game to end to play music, or wait patiently for one plan of another to say its peace so you can say yours. I like to take it to a more extreme level and say, turn down the fuckin tv, I want to listen to a thing I find beautiful.

SONG ONE : like the earth

1. Sit back and dream of clouded metaphors Reveal the schemes that we devised Back in the day, when ur hands were small And the WORLD splayed out colorfully Before our eyes

(chorus)

Take ur thronging bussloads of the living dead Take all the lifetimes of a million busy heads Ur sly intellectuals that laugh in the dome The only place, the only place is in the peaceful tones Of singing birds perched on ascending wires, like notes

2. Caught u up past three, sitting on the porch I woke up from a dream that I immediately forgot That seems to happen a lot, especially if previously I torched a dutch and passed the fuck out But from the ether of my dreams I heard, from the scope of reality I heard you shout

(chorus)

3. The sun and the moon both live in a box And the box is a square made out of lead And the square lies motionless in ur head Like a body on the rocks

Watch the hour tuck away into an evening A day nestled in afternoon light From the beginning In ur mind that made all minds the same The twilight creeping across ur paper brain And I can only burn and burn and burn

And I can turn round like the EARTH And I can be a sphere like the EARTH And I can stitch up the nations With fear, like the EARTH

(chorus)

                        ...people who call it a false flag just don’t wanna think it’s their own who bomb, if it can’t be a towelhead.

SONG TEW : the rainbow

The sinister rainbow blinks over the clover And the dawn is a monster in my brain I'll take a picture before this song is over And I’ll fix u in a wheel to keep me sane

Don’t break out the gin for the old lady creepers Smoke until the blur makes ur head float around I live in hades, burn my tongue on the heater When I lick this heaven ill taste yur sound

(chorus)

What Im saying isnt deep What Im stealing isnt cheap But I know that if i play it loud and long That this song in my head will instead Form a beat

Like a stranger in the rain Slowly driving me insane There's a fork in the road And I dont know whether Or when, all this shit will come together In the end

2. I got a stupid friend who lives in a pause He takes life from the tiger’s jaws, and prays

That life begins again, after it is over And the rainbow shines like a dream, in a daze

Ill take u thru the eye of the needle Ill breathe a testament to ur false gods Ill tell the truth, and contaminate the evil And zap u like a lightning rod

(chorus)

3. Dont you know that the rainbow is the world? Dont you know that the news is already told? Im gettin too old to be unfurled Im seein the rainbow in my mind Im waking up for the daily grind Im singing useless things for useful people The rainbow is not evil, its kind Dont u know that the color kings rattle like a marble In a tin can? And the rainbow eats the darkness like a mother Without a son? Dont u know that u can never be a man? And the rainbow drags across the empty land And the rainbow drags across the empty land

(chorus) (chorus)

                        ...the only division is classical and romantic. all else is contributory to these two. postmodern, modern, no. romantic. it all follows the romantic objective. one is ruled by the time at which it occurred, and the other is ruled by the mechanism of breaking from any present time.

SONG THREE : an ending that promises to begin again

1. A legend sleeps in yur head somewhere You take yur trembling hands And grope for mine, like a bum for spare Change... You cant explain

This strange perdition that engulfs Yur position in the sane... And the trouble of the pulse That leads a broken synapse Up into my eccentric brain... Theres a clot in my neck And the ruins of time Keep me from being able to find A comfortable spot to rest

(chorus)

Im stuck in erasure--a constant exposure To the elements still provides me with eyes To see bad karma writhing in my spleen And I wonder if ill dream While the whole WORLD is awake Will I be the manufactured figure, Will I be fake?

Or will I take these petty abstractions And roll them up into a ball And put them in my pocket Just to feel the reason stall In my throat... Is life a puzzle, or a joke?

2. The life you led one sunny afternoon Is the life you never led again... I can appreciate the reasons For why you did not blend Like a chameleon in the room But cant discern the seasons Of the moon

Yur whispers prosper, loud Like a passionate apostle And the lords are proud of ur Painting on the wall... That skritter of an evening gone Is enough to scatter colors When the sky finally falls, And the lords are like the brothers Of what lorded over them... Take these idols and shatter them... The racket in my brain is loud And does not end And does not end And does not end, even when the jig is up Cuz ive gotten fucked by time: Its an ending that promises To begin again

(chorus)

                        ...Nobody starts an Apollonian, and only those are Dionysian who have the capacity for restraint needed to confer the Apollonian chariot, tho some die without a revision of the vision etc. some die restraintless

SONG FOUR : chauncey ames and the case of jenny preston

1. Chauncey loved the flowers Chauncey loved the trees Chauncey smelled the wind And knew that he was free

Chauncey took a cab home Chauncey felt the air flow Thru the window He paid the driver extra Just for keeping him From being alone... Back, once again To the place that he had left Long ago

In fact, it had been years and years and years Since the man had seen walls Not fortified in concrete... In fact, it had been years and years and years Since this man had put to rest That lying cheat

(chorus)

Chauncey was a killer That was his disease Got off on manslaughter: Fingerprints on a pair keys Got him twelve years For offing someone's daughter Even tho she was eighty three Cuz no matter how old u are Everyone Is a daughter or son To someone

2. Now he's out, but he has his fears... Maybe people will not like him For his past It is unclear Even after all the facts Had been presented... Whether Jenny Preston Was murdered, or just had a bad fall Onto a bed of broken glass They found her in the hall At the head of the stairs, flat on her wrinkled ass

(chorus)

Chauncey was a man of few words But in the end he was unheard His eyes were petrified In delirium His arms shook As he held the gun He took aim On the good book Instead of his brains just to prove a point His neck is craned His eyes like coins That shine their milky matter On the barrel of a luger

(Chorus)

                        ...doubt any of y'all would live up to the wit/confidence/sardonicism y'all judiciously sculpt for hours on the book of face.

SONG FYVE: my summer home

1. This is food for thought Write it down in chalk: The chimney puffs From the fire in the fireplace And erupts in a black plume And with luck The old man Balances a spoon On his nose He sits inside a room As the room grows Smoking from a pipe While its raining outside And the light Is waning, slowly waning, outside

My fingers and my toes Are numb to the bone And I will have my wish To swim with all the fish In the sea of my mind In time ill find A little spot in the country Somewhere peaceful and secluded Ill save up all my money And hope im not deluded And hope that I can find a place Thats nice, a lush spot For a good price

(Chorus) Do you feel that I feel you? Do you feel that you feel me? The time is right to live again To let the atoms wiggle In our spherical galaxy That seems to have no real end But the one that we assume Is reality, and soon We'll eat up all the doom

2. Concentrate upon a single understanding Dont let the sisters on the throne Rage in the dome And find out that this trip Needs more planning to exist

The sky is silver and the universe is green Ill show you things in this world That you have never seen Things that have been waiting So long to be unfurled Things for boys and things for girls Without an explanation Ill bring the nation together And hold it by a tether Show you things for boys And things for girls

(Chorus)

                        ...for example i would never be able to muster the cognitive stones to say all of this, in order, amongst the company of people, even friends

SONG SIX : notion

#1 im in the middle of this phrase Stuck between the lines Bless these simple chains I'll see what I can find In my simple mind To lead to some way out The drip, drip drip of water From the trippy rusty spout Keeps me awake I'll explain that to ur daughter The world is fake The world is miles away:

Chorus: Put a notion on the river And see it travel downsteam Suspended on liquid creature dreams I sweated thru the fever And, between the middle of this phrase Passed all my days in solitude And grew weaker, as the days Passed on in solitude

You can call me daft You can say im frozen In technicolor time That im stranded on an island In the middle of the ocean But I dont have the spine To wiggle thru the shaft And give you back This simple notion

#2 I gots a paper boat Lofting on the water It travels down ur purple throat And dissolves in the water

I set a fire just to see if it could think And I questioned the venom Just to see if it could blink Nonsense on the edge Of the bullshit day Chillin on the ledge, you shape the clay And drive the screws on down And drive the screws on down

I thought of you, thought of you And I felt like a clown

(chorus)

#3 I crawl out, I crawl out I crawl out of bed I walk down the hall To turn the notion into thread And whisper rumors to the dead Sometimes I try to talk And my voice drops Sometimes the vague paralysis Defies analysis And you are left sitting on a chair In a yellow room That is a technicolor tomb Without a door, confined and spare, I crawl, I crawl I crawl out of bed And walk down the hall And fall and fall and fall Into the creation of sound Until I hit the ground And everything is mother night And the imperfections in yur eye Spangle in the strange notion of the twilight

(chorus) (chorus)

                         ...the broad concept of subjectivity has as much to do with a detailed exegesis of one tenet of it as death itself with the specific way we die

SONG SEVEN : collected and connected

You're a sharp one You're a dumb one You got nobody But the people in yur head

And everybody is connected But you aint connected to them Yur a ghost, on the interim While the fringes die out You live them out To the last splinter Until it is winter And the trees are all white with snow And the blue wind blows

Yu spend twenty minutes Feeling for the lightswitch In a room made out of figments That you shovel into a ditch And bury, along with all yur Dangerous ambitions And as you drive away, you feel The religion Of yur memories corrupt u And yu reel

CHORUS. Cuz everyones connected Everyones collected Into the same intangible organism That lives life in the schism Of ur teeth I watch ur lips move And cannot hear u speak I pick up on the clues and watch the pressure leak Until all of it is used And nothing much is left To be abused

Everyones connected by a string That trembles across the space Of every living thing The fractions of my face illuminate in the light I shake when i sing I am a yellow kite Mangled in a tree Forgotten by the breeze I am a thing, wafting in the breeze But I have begun again, my friend, Just by following the string Follow, follow the string

#2 Two days ago the WORLD was made of angles I opened my eyes to the lost ways And came upon a shallow swale The brush and branches tangled And the rays of the sun, barely Coming thru the jail Of the scary fray

Dont you think that yur fellow men Would like to lend a hand? And dont you think That this desert you have crossed Only gets u more lost Until u arrive at the brink Of the sahara, and find A single, solitary house Where a mumbling old man Is confined

(CHORUS) (CHORUS)

i always dress nice when i have no place to go. otherwise i look like a sweaty coked up hobo. its my chic, paranoid hobo chic. my comportment u say? quirky to the acquaintance, somewhat sad to the friend, an endearing mix of both with a dash of worry to the best friend, and an embarrassment to the significant other. im usually the life of the party bc i bring drugs so people are forced to tolerate my horror of a personality.

rejection is a rare and beautiful flower my time is spent tending it my life wants it to be a gift i water the flower it sits next to my bed it is next to a lamp littered under the lamp are dead ladybugs ladybugs are all over my house but if i am not meant i am not meant and i cast my line of poetry here trying to figure out if it was meant to be there wonder exactly why what is innumerable can be rare and think of lots of things

[stopkiwibea]

Guys help I’m emotional

So I wrote a thing- Its a Langst thing.

It isnt finished and its just in the ‘summarize’ stage but… I dont know if I should expand on it?

Read it under the cut if you wantttt

(post season 2)

First Part:

Shiro is still missing, the team does the musical chairs with the lions. Keith is Black, Lance is Red, Allura is Blue. Lance feels disconnected from his identity. Is he the jester? Is he the sharpshooter? Is he just a replacement that’s supposed to try and fit the red lion’s traits? He isnt sure. He tries to keep things going like normal. “But he isnt stupid and he notices how they treat him”(line from the prompt) and he shuts down. Trains more, sleeps less. Focuses more, eats less. Obeys more, talks less. To the point where he’s a walking shell of himself and “Got it” “Yes sir” “On it” short and quick comments. Everyone is stressed, relieved that ‘lance isnt making this harder’ and doesnt notice how broken he is. Its not til the y get Shiro back that he finally visibly breaks. (i.e. hes supposed to go back to blue but he cant? He doesnt know who he is anymore? He visibly looks confused when someone jokes that ‘lance can go back to being lance’ and its said in a way that just enforces more self hatred for the guy he used to be) so he tries to bond with blue again but she isnt letting him in, she doesnt like how cold he is at his core, doesnt understand what happened to her favorite paladin, wont let anyone in(mentally, she still lets allura pilot) and no one understands why… at first. Cuz Shiro is getting increasingly uncomfortable with “how much lance has improved” cuz he’s realizing its not a good change- Lance is getting even quieter as the days go by because, hell, blue wont let him in, why is he even here then?

Hunk tries telling him jokes they used to say back on earth (lance just stares at him like the joke went over his head), pidge tries to get some insane ideas out of him again (he is too strategic now, nothing he says is ‘insane’ anymore), Coran invites him to help clean in hopes it will bring him to talk (lance stays silent the entire time), Keith bugs him/tries to get him fired up over small things (lance just shrugs and listens as keith gets progressively more angry about the lack of response and is removed from the room), Allura leaves every window open for lance to flirt or crack a joke/ intentionally pausing as if waiting for one that she can hear in her head (he never does and the meetings are forced), Shiro thinks its his fault / due to the stress of having to find him that broke lance (he’s only half way right.) Lance just… cant understand who he is supposed to be anymore. Lance thinks that the castle is better now, with less yelling, less mistakes, they get through meetings faster, and his ‘sharpshooter’ title becomes the only thing he holds onto. (like a living breathing gun)

No one knows how to help him.

Things get worse.

The team cant form voltron.

Even the lions feel disconnected from each other.

Lance feels responsible.

“I cant even be the sharpshooter if I dont have a lion”

“Its my fault for severing my bond with blue/she cant recognise me anymore.”

“I dont understand why the team is like this. Why cant you guys bond?”

Keith yells “ITS BECAUSE OF YOU” (he doesnt mean it that way. He’s just wants the old lance back, the one he was growing to love. The others know that. Lance doesnt.)

Lance leaves in the middle of the night after that.

The team searches and searches but they cant find him.

They fear lance is gone forever. They fear that they caused this.

Second Part:

Its been a month. Still no sign of Lance. Until they get a signal from a Galra ship hoarding prisoners. And Blue, who never fully disconnected from Lance, feels him on that ship. She relays this to Allura and the team regroups, planning to break him out. They had to work on their bonds, strengthen them in the hopes that they would eventually find Lance. In a way, he is still holding the team together.

Lance is on that ship. Has been for 2 weeks? 3? He isnt sure. He just knows hes in so much pain, hes surprised he isnt dead yet.

(prompt continues where he strikes deals to take other prisoners beating for them, is still a selfless asshole, learns how small his vocabulary got with all the “yes sir” shit he was doing, and he still has his smart mouth (never got rid of it, just… couldnt use it with the team- his brain felt like it had short circuited in front of them) The prisoners dont understand why he would endure so much pain just for them. They thank him and care for him as he drifts through the blackouts. Queue lance getting to know these prisoners, understanding their strengths and weaknesses, and using that (slowly oh so slowly) to try and find a way to break out. He does. He tells them this plan. They praise him for his kind heart and smart thinking, the tell him things he never would have thought about himself. He’s happy. He thinks he knows who he is again. The problem is, he cant feel his legs after that last beating. He can barely stay awake. He thinks hes failed. Again. But the prisoners say otherwise. They make a makeshift stretcher for him. He protests, telling them he’ll only get in the way like this, they tell him “nonsense! You saved us too many times to think about leaving you here. Its our turn to save you.”)

The team is breaking through the defenses when they notice the main ship going crazy. Pidge scans it “its the prisoners! They broke out!” Hunk is overjoyed “I knew Lance could do it!” Its Keith who still has a bad feeling. Shiro directs them to take out all the smaller ships, let Allura and Keith get to the hanger. Keith gets there first, busts the doors open, Allura slides Blue in. They both get out, on foot, within 5 minutes of landing and take out the soldiers. The doors behind them open and here come the prisoners. They dont see Lance at first. Allura is quick to signal them over to blue. As Keith is still fighting, Allura runs over to Blue, getting her to open up for the prisoners, and they both stop. They feel the mental connection that should have been lost but its still there. Keith finished with the soldiers and runs to Allura’s side. Allura stares at the prisoners “I-is he really… Is our friend really with you?” The prisoners part to let them see the middle of their group and theres Lance. On the stretcher, looking worse than they ever could have imagined.

Keith knew he had a bad feeling.

With no time to waste, Blue growled, snapping everyone to attention and the rescue continues.

(lance is watched like a hawk by these prisoners who (understandably, dont know if lance is really their ‘friend’ and they decide to be protective of him. Very. protective.) They are able to open a wormhole and everyone gets on the ship ok. Well… relatively. Lance still hasnt woken up the entire rescue mission and its concerning to everyone. They get him in a pod just as his breathing threatens to stop. Coran is all but sobbing, so grateful that they made it in time, no matter how slim of a window that was. Hunk is sitting by the pod, staring at his friend, tears rolling off his cheeks. Pidge is just trying to take everything in, none of the prisoners were her brother or father, and lance(whos been missing for a month) is stuck in a pod. Allura is speaking with the prisoners, explaining who they are and who lance use to be. (they are very surprised considering how low his self esteem was that he was ever a paladin of the great voltron) Shiro, standing by hunk, still feeling guilty, is lost in his thoughts about whether or not Lance will be happy when he wakes up in the castle.

Keith is just… sitting with some of the younger prisoners and crying. Crying because they are telling him everything that Lance did for them. And crying because “he isnt gone, hes still in there, i thought we lost him forever, guys we have to fix this”

Lance comes out of the pod a week later and YAY ITS ALL HAPPY MANY HUGS AND APOLOGIES AND LANCE UNDERSTANDING THAT HE IS WORTH SOMETHING AND THEY WANT THE GOOFY GUY BACK BUT ONLY IF HES OK WITH THAT ALRIGHT ONLY IF HES OK WITH ITTTTTTTTTTT

[avimour]

weird dream: spiderman was trying to escape someone idk and ended up in a band class being directed by hannibal lecter in a mustache (i say hannibal and not mads bc i knew in my heart it was hannibal at that moment in the dream) and spiderman picks up a accordion so he doesnt look like the odd one in and he played his parts perfectly. after the class hannibal walked over to spiderman, put his hand down on his shoulder, and told him he’d love for him to join the band now in my dreams i usually stay on the same topic, which was spiderman being the accordian player in hannibal’s band, but my brain decided to transition to a different place in this same time era, and that was two kids bored in detention. weird thing: their detention was located in a ward for the most dangerous criminals, which for some reason was located right by their school, which was connected via parking lot.  so the kids notice their supervisor walking away to go do whatever thee fuck supervisors do, and they took off. they decided to go investigate the most dangerous criminals. they looked through the slots at all of them, making jokes and whatever, before they get to the cell labelled hannibal lector. they noticed he wasnt in the room, so they somehow unlocked the door, and started investigating around the room. in doing so they found a piece of cloth covering this huge-ass hole, which went real far down into the earth, so far down they couldn’t see the end of it.  a little cut in my dream shows me hannibal in his prison uniform digging this hole with a plastic spoon and a plastic fork. back to the present, the supervisor grabs these two kids, however hannibal lector also grabs these two kids.  ‘naughty children shouldn’t go poking around other people’s homes’ is what he said. or something like that.

turns out hannibal lector is the supervisor, and he’s just wearing a mustache. he broke out of his cell and got a job as a band director and as a supervisor for detention. i have no idea how but he’s hannibal so i guess he had a way. the dream cuts and it seems the person watching the security cameras has figured out that hannibal lector isnt in his cell anymore, and calls for all the supervisors to go investigate. the kids hold onto two of their supervisors, one of whom appears to be jefferson davis, and tell them not to go investigate with the others, and that they dont want them to be ‘marked’ jefferson raises an eyebrow at this, but listens to the kids. a montage of the supervisors investigating hannibal’s cell, where they look into the hole, and go ‘oh thats a fuckin big hole the fuck?’ and supervisor hannibal goes ‘funny.’ and then kills all the supervisors in that room. he kills them all in weird ways, and eventual takes an eye from one, a tongue from another, an ear, a foot, and a hand.  its at this point that alarms are going red and all the kids from detention come running to hannibal’s room, where they accept the gifts he gives them. all the kids from detention were missing something, such as an eye, tongue, ear, foot, and a hand. they magically fuse onto their bodies? anyways hannibal and the kids escape into the parking lot, where they locate a big van, a la soccer mom style. him and the kids get the fuck out of there, and on the way they pick up the rest of the band, including spiderman whose still wearing his spidey suit. note: i have no idea which spiderman this is. at first it was tom’s, however it could be any spider at this point.  my dream gets fuzzy at this point because my cat was sneezing into my face and trying to wake me up. i managed to ignore her and go back to sleep. while im watching them do this cop escape scene, the cops not wanting to shoot the van, i say in my head ‘i wish will graham was here.’ and then realize he can be! because this is my dream! so. spiderman unmasks and it’s will graham, releasing a gasp from everyone and hannibal going ‘fuck’ because this is season 2 will graham, who wants him dead sometimes and wants him to marry him the other times. will looks at hannibal, andt hen at the kids. “we have to adopt all of them. and the whole orphanage, or the cops will never stop chasing after us.” will says “we?” hannibal replies back, dodging a massive hole in the ground “yes.” my dream fuzzes again because my cat is getting angrier that im not waking up, and spits in my face a bit. i realize that my cat is going to keep doing this and i need to wake up soon, but i want to continue my dream. so a montage it is. a montage of hannibal and will adopting a lot of kids, just a bunch of them, because for some reason the cops cant arrest them and send them to jail if they have this many kids?  anyways they find this little castle they live in and start to build out their territory, creating a beautiful kingdom, and hannibal goes ‘i must get something amazing for will’ and so he digs another hole/cave this time going under another kingdom which has this rare emerald that is a dark green and flashes to a deep red in the right sunlight. he manages to steal these emeralds, out of a well, from the king of this land, and returns to his holecave, when we hear the king go ‘NO!’ my cat once again tries to wake me up, causing the dream to fuzzy and go to a different time this time, hannibal and will arent here, instead its one of their sons whose become the king, and his wife that he married from somewhere the king is playing a game with his children where they avoid the spooky ghost lady, and try to find all the notes. only problem is that the king recognizes the spooky ghost lady to be a grown up version of his lost first born daughter, who has disappeared from her bed one morning. he figures out a way to save her, causing the black goo to fall off of her and for her to be revealed. she is quiet, but tears are still going down her face.  the king, over-excited about his daughter being alive, takes her back to the castle, but along the way he notices two cords on the ground, in a nature traily place, and follows them, to find an old corpse on the ground, with a noose around his throat, and a empty noose beside him. his daughter then speaks up. “‘i love her. she is the most perfect being on this planet and i would kill anyone if they tried to hurt her. i shall steal her from her bed, so that we can be one together.’ then he took me out here and hung both of us. but, a princess cannot die, so i just suffered for years instead. kids using me as a fun late-night game. until you saved me father.” and then they cry and the dream fastforwards again. this time its a prom? prom night? whatever. and the princess is talking with one of her siblings. they’re talking about who they’re going to dance with or whatever, when one of them gets a magical ping, and sees troops outside the city walls. they quickly alert the kingdom of the incoming battle a cut again, my cat is wanting me awake real bad, and this time i see a car. the car is a black fancy breed of car, and inside is three people. one a bouncer, another a noble british lady which you can tell by her tall powdered wig and her white face makeup, and the third is a young prince, who is sick and keeps complaining about a headache. the car pulls up to the wreakage of the city’s gate, where there’s dust and rocks everywhere, and we see the princess come out of the wreakage, and wave her hands. she’s wearing some sorta biker getup, but without a helmet. the car stops, and the bouncer rolls down the window “hey, are you okay?” asks the bouncer “like, no! i just want to go home. my boyfriend should be back where you came from.” the princess gets into the car, the bouncer having invited her in. “Alright. lets go find your boyfriend.” the bouncer backs the car up and turns around, heading back the way they went. “whats your name?” asks the prince “almara.” replies the princess “almara. that sounds familiar?” the prince scratches his head. “it should. this is a hostage situation.” almara pulls up her magic, placing it at the young prince’s head. “oh fuck!” scrreches the british lady “its okay guys, ive been in a hostage situation before. we will all make it out of this if we jhust listen to the princess.” almara has them turn the car back round, and has them drive it to the castle, where she gets out with only the young prince, and takes him to her father. “why?” is all her father asks of the prince “to get back the crystals your fathers stole from my father!” cries the young prince. my dream fuzzes again, and this time i get a little scene. the king and one of his kids, are looking at the crystals in a well.  ‘can we show mom?” asks one of them “no, she’d have a heartattack.” the king pulls out a straw, which contains a crystal a tip of the crystal is eaten. the scene changes back its weird because my cat is really mad at this point, and so i cant really described what happened that well. apparently the king gave the young prince some lip, and then hannibal and will appeared, dressed to the nines in fancy king clothes, and tell the young prince to fuck off and that they never stole the crystals. the prince screams as the pain in his head starts banging against his skull. the dream end. my cats are hungry and pissed at me for sleeping. i fed them and they are happy again.

[t33th1ng]

aborted nanowrimo attempt - november 2015

false bend sits on the coast and is quiet , and keeps to itself . its a town separated from the world by big high trees that pack together tight and leave no room for travelers .

toursits love it , you see . tourists love it . the people who live there wouldnt say they love it . but the people that live there arent overly emotive to begin with

everyones a little similar in this town and if youre passing through you arent going to notice that until you move on , you get to the next town and you remember the way people are Supposd to be. then it hits them , hits you , dawns on these tourists that hey something is a little weird over there , over there in false bend . somethings a little off

the people who live there know but they dont … acknowledge . that doesnt do much good . somethings fucked here , thats all they know .

somethings fucked and it reels in these tourists , who are on long scenic drives along the coast or are headed towards the national park up north , they are attracted to whatever this town carries they love the fresh ocean air and the clear crystal waters flowing down from the hills , the muddy streets , they love the towring trees the foggy beach and the cliffs above it (a witch lives in those cliffs) the tourists lap up the quirky locals and the weird way the light filters down from heaven , they love it , then thye move on . nobody moves into false bend , not really . like .. its been known to happen people Will move in but so slowly , it happens at at trickle . its like they come here . they love it , they want to Want to live here , then they leave again to take care of other affairs and in that time something Clicks in their minds like yeah , yeah false bend is nice , maybe we’ll drive through there again next summer or something but i guess .. now that i Really have time to mull it over .. i guess i dont particulrly want to live there . its nice but .. not for me

its not for anyone really . its a miracle the town even exists because no one fucking wants to live there Really . 

Regardless

people live there . the same people , year after year . people dont really move away either they just . its Stagnant is what it is .

and then , in late summer , a full entire family moves in which is unprecedented entire Families dont move in if anybody comes into the town its a solitary being , maybe a couple , never a family . most parents have the good sense not to drag their children into something like this

but this family , the osmans , they move in regardless . theyre a weird lot , weird in just a way to fit in here and weird , water-damaged . the father is transferred here for work . hes a doctor . a … hes a pathologist okay , he works in a lab looking at germs . his wife is a mess , his two daughters are surviving. its a bad family .

they move into these apartments , known as being the nicer apartments in town. the building is low and either painted gray or weathered into that color who fucking knows . it has a courtyard which is pretty cute and well maintained , if you can imagine that . two stories , vacant feeling , nice apartments though . the stairwells are creepy . it feels a bit like a motel . the roof is flat .

these osman family move into the apartment that used to belong to gertrude stetson before her son sent her to an assisted living facility two towns over . the apartment was definitely too big for one old woman to manage on her own  but at the same time its far too small for a four person family to live in. theres a sense that this apartment will be temporary , hopefully , thats the plan , please .

but really .. Are There four people living here ? the father puts in long long days at the hospital and sometimes just sleeps there . he has sleep problems , takes drugs for those, so if he is home hes passed out . the mother is here and there , shes not a staple in the ‘family life’. the daughters are the only ones there with any regularity . so maybe this apartment is just the right size .  

theres two bedrooms , a bathroom , and reasonable space set aside for a conjoined kitchen+dining area and living room.

its some kind of arrangement

So , next door , across the hall from these osmans , is josef sokol , the younger daughter catches a glimpse of him and refers to him as the ‘tweaky looking fucker’ . its not a wrong assumption to make , josef doesnt look good . he doesnt feel good either , any time , at all , ever . he monitors his new neighbors move in just as he monitored old miss gertrudes move out . in fact , he helped , and his muscles ached for days after . so he doest help these new ones move in . he observes them through his doors peephole and gets a bad feel but he cant tell i if its just him or if its legitimate . guess he'll have to wait and see . he spies on them really , wonders if he should buy a coffee cake or whatever the fuck and give it to them as a housewarming gift . thats what ol miss gertrude did when he moved in here , years and years and years ago . but whatever . he ‘ll think on it . maybe .. he can get the coffee cake and give it to them and use it as an excuse to scope them out .. yes . yes sounds good . josef needs to keep tabs on people

he lurks around for days , observing simply. he doesnt work or anything , he doesnt have friends or hobbies , so hes free to watch these new folks movements to quiet his frantic mind . he Needs to get a feel on them . especially since theyre right next door to him . he sees a father and two daughters and a woman who stops by once who hes never seen before so he assumes shes with them , possibly the mother ? bad vibes , bad vibes . he sits on his barstool in front of his door , straining his eye thru the peephole , smoking a cigarette . he blinks , slowly

that evening he goes for a small walk to smoke some more . he runs into another neighbor , a man who lives down at the end of the hall fuck fuck oh fuck - a man who lives down at then end of the hall named terry . terry is out walking his shitty dachshund that josef wants to fucking punt across the street its peed in front of his door twice and barks in the middle of the night , soft far -off yaps that make him jolt awake . josef glares at this shit dog . shit dog is sniffing the bag of mcdonalds some lazy ass dumped on the gutter

‘so whatre the new neighbros like’ terry asks . josef shrugs , takes a deep inhale , tries to blow the smoke away from him but the winds being weird so the smoke ends up all going in terrys face anyways , but fuck that guy .

‘’nah, nah havent talked to them yet , figured id let them settle in first ‘ blatant lies : josef is in no frame of mind to speak with others right now . this includes you  terry, you fucking demon . ‘ seem a little unusual but whatever . nice enough i guess . theres a father n two daughrers and i guess a mother’

‘you guess ?’ terry does this shitty awkward laugh that he always does when josef says something mildly weird which, to be truthful , is Often . josef knows this laugh in his goddamn bones

‘yeah . some older woman is there like , once . no clue who she is . neither of the adults look like the kids tho ,’ josef exhales more smooke , it goes at terry again , terry backs up . the shit dogs chewing on an old french fry cup thing what they fuck are those called ?? called shit dog chew toy now

terry gravitates away after that . josef does too . time to walk around a three block area and then return to his apartment . see if anythings new with these neighbors . think some more about that coffee cake .

--

by the next afternoon josef musters up the courage , soothes his fucking brain , and buys this coffee cake . time to meet the neighbors . gotta prove hes a reasonable functioning adult . he puts on some relatively stain free clothes , and moves out . maybe he shouldve shaved too  oh well . he knocks on their door , its a sunday , late summer .

one of the daughters answers . shes shorter than the other and looks mildly fucked up . she looks like she gets in fights at school over shit that doesnt matter (this is very true) and like she doesnt get enough validation . she also looks suspicious .

‘hello ?’ she opens the door just enough to pop her head out . theyre the same height , both of them . roughly five foot six , five foot seven . theyre at eye level . and they both have brown eyes . go figure

‘im your neighbor . my names josef.’ he sticks out his hand . she reluctantly shakes it .

'im bea’

‘heres some … heres this coffee cake . welcome to false bend ‘ josefs ability to do this suddenly fucks out on him and he wants to run .

‘cool ‘

bea takes the cake , josef nods , they both vanish into their apartments . josef is getting a Really bad feeling from these people .

later that evening theres a knock on josefs door . oh fuck . he silently jumps out of his cherished recliner and lightfoots to the door . nobody can hear him. outside is bea and her sister . the sister is taller , shes definitely more attractive , she looks more wellrounded for sure but still kind of dead inside but josef isnt one to judge . he opens his door

the sister immediately smiles and sticks her hand out . ‘hello! sorry i missed you earlier , i was taking a nap. my names gloria. thanks for the cake!’

josef shakes her hand , studying her . he cant get a good read on her and its fucking him up .

‘josef .. josef sokol . nice to meet you’ hes forgotten to smile so far so he makes himself do it . he thinks thats the right facial expression for this . glorias smiling so …

bea isnt but hes not going to trust her for social cues .

‘its nice to meet you, sorry my parents arent here , im sure theyd love to meet you too ‘ gloria goes on for a bit about things that josef doesnt necessarily Care about but hes glad to know . family of four , her fathers a busy busy doctor man doing his medicine , they moved here from new mexico , its so beautiful here isnt it ? it sure is .

gloria thanks him again , promises to see him around ,  everyone retreats . josef knows more now but fuck that just making him more confused . he feels paranoid . he always paranoid but Especially now .

-

the osman apartment is a weird place to be . the grand dr norman osman has unpacked and situated all his earthly belongings . the larger of the two bedrooms is normal looking . the rest of the apartment , boxes and bubble wrap and the remains of several half assed unpacking attempts . the sisters are trying to make things nice but it isnt working like it should . theyve smashed their mattresses into their shared room , and have realized theres no room to put the bedframes in there , so now they have to figure out where to get rid of those .  bea puzzles out  how to get the wifi and cable set up , she figures it out , they spend an evening watching nature documentaries together instead of unpacking more because theyre tired . and then the next day they go on a walk instead because gloria wants to figure out whats where in the town  shes says its so pretty lets explore . they end up doing that all day and are so tired by the time they get back they pass out .

bea knows her mother is staying in a motel and she doesnt tell gloria . it wouldnt be anything new but she doesnt want to say it . gloria probably already knows anyways why should she bother . mom is gone gone gone

they seee  their father , their esteemed doctor , a few times .

he comes home almost every night , he takes his shoes off and immediately retreats to his room , he leaves early in the morning . the family does not communicate much .

but this is how things always are . life goes on .

josef observes , josef is confused . school is going to start soon , in a matter of days . gloria will be a senior , bea will be a junior . gloria wants to get everything unpacked before school starts . bea doesnt give a shit .

‘cmon . if it doesnt get done by school its Never getting done ‘

‘why cant we just go on another walk .. i want to look in the forest …. ‘

gloria wins , they unpack some . not all but some . they get the bathroom set up somewhat . bea finds her fuzzy sucks and puts them on . the apartment feels a little less shitty .

‘ isnt this so much nicer ?’ gloria feels like theres fresh air in her lungs . she likes things to be a certain way . bea doesnt care as much . they both clean up for bed and retreat . their bedroom has one tiny tiny window and they lay in bed awake , facing each other , eyes open . the moon is weak and the clouds are heavy , the light is cold and failing . they look at each other and think and remember

they arent related . bea was adopted by their parents when she was four years old and gloria is their godchild . gloria has seen a lot and it makes it hard for her to sleep sometimes . the first night they really truly met each other was a little like this , in the dark and staring at each other emptily . they are sisters in a weird ferocious way . they hurt together but theyre not dead 

that night , like most of the others , norman comes home . theyre both awake when he unlocks the front door .  they listen to him take off his shoes , take his sleeping pills down his throat ,  he strips his socks off , goes into the room , turns the tv on . the volume is low . light flashes under the door .

‘lets go to sleep ‘

please

_

bea and gloria go to the coffee shop down the street the day before school starts . the street is poorly taken care of and theres a bunch of weeds growing , theres plants bursting out of everywhere in this town its just the way . and the buildings around the street , just like all buildings , in town , are gray and beaten . the ocean weather gnaws them down into something gray and dirty .  

all the buildings are low . gloria looks straight ahead while she walks and bea looks all around them . a truck drives by them , maybe the passengers are somebody they will go to school with ? theres a bar with a shining neon sign across the street . crows sit on the telephone wires . bea watches it all .

in the cofffee shop bea gets a donut , gloria gets tea and a scone . gloria cares more about keeping up appearances.

they sit at the window to watch people inside , and outside , the coffee shop . as they sit it starts to rain a little .

-

okay i dont giiiive a fuck

wanted to tdo donuts , donuts was boring ,

after the coffee shop wihc was Boring And a Mistake Fuck U .. afterwards thy go towards the ocean , it is cold and lovely

the ocean rolls out forever . before coming here , neither sister has seen the ocean before . they watch it for a long time . gloria is smiling , she likes it . bea is mildly horrified . she doesnt know why . she watches it move in front of her and she has a hard time breathing . oh she hates it . or not hates it . it scares her . and her first kneejerk reaction to  being afraid of things is to hate them so its only natural

gloria wants to walk the beach forever , admire the nature and the shells and the gulls , admire the gulls and the clouds .   . bea just wants to go the fuck home but hey she isnt going to ditch her sister on the beach .

they stay out there an hour , more than an hour . fuck im gying im g=done goodNight

- 

bea can only view her chemistry teacher with suspicion. marcus rydell , who has long braided hair and plays guitar and wont shut up about his beloved pet cockatoo and has a gigantic potted tree in his classroom that cant be removed without killing it , well this mr rydell is a weird guy . and bea can handle weird but theres just something so off about this guy . 

all the other students love him , hes a school favorite. but bea is creeped out by his pale pale blue eyes. something about his eyes . she doesnt know it by name doesnt know what it particularly is but its there she hates it , it drives her nuts 

(months later after shes established her weird , mildly shitty relationship with josef, she tells him about it . he looks thoughtful on it but doesnt offer much beyond 'have you noticed how others have that look? in this town?' and now that he mentions it she really does notice that . imagine that . much much later he tells her more and she realizes what it all means ) 

anyways 

bea doesnt like this fisheyed hippie shit bastard and waching him an hour a day in class is a bad feeling. she stews on this in the back of class and is thoroughly unnerved by the time she leaves. she cant even whine about it to anyone - again , everyone loves him. also she doesnt have friends so like 

- 

sol washington is the world famous darling of false bend, he has a huge home there on a cliff above the ocean with an all native species carefully maintained garden. hes there twice maybe three times a year . there is a live in staff of maids and yardworkers and one grouchy middle aged woman who takes care of his impressive 400 gallon fish tank. he loves those fish. she loves them too but not much else 

josef would be the eleventh edition to this household and sol wishes he would but but josef doubts he could handle it and anyways , living in large spaces freaks him out . hes an opposite claustrophobe. also a reguar claustrophobe . josef has some issues 

he goes to the grand washington house whenever sol visits , to keep him company and to be bathed in luxury. he also pays the house periodic visits to just to make sure its being kept to sols standards. and to send him pictures of his fish . he also kind of likes some of the staff there and likes to check up with them when hes feeling particularly sociable which is a relative term with him but is known to happen 

sol designed the house himself of course . just as he has a fair number of the buildings throughout false bend. its only natural - hes  a beloved renowned architect with a strong capability in interior design . he travels all over the world to build and lecture and entertain. sol is the light of whatever party hes sucked into . his passions are creation , and socializing (and the occult But ) in fact he met josef when he traveled to new mexico in the 80s to help create a spiritualists mountain retreat . a lovely complex integrated into the landscape and he picked up josef along the way . josef cant come to terms about how he feels on that - getting uprooted from the desert drug culture and transplanted into the northwest rainforest . he figures it was good in a way, not gong to complain about having a safe place to live and being somewhat sober is somewhat nice as well . he supposes . but going up north tossed open a whole new can of worms as well . thanks , sol . 

josefs life in the desert  was painful dangerous and something he will never properly recover from . hes killed a man and witnessed three other murders . hes wasted four solid years of his life on heroin , his body hurts and his scars stand out bright on his skin . and his brains never going to heal . but hes come to terms with that at the very least