#IM IN FUCKING CALIFORNIA WHY THE HELL DO WE HAVE THIS VERSION HERE THE FUCK

[solstheimtxt]

Trying to find the best real world religion to properly compare to Scientism for a fic (I think calvinism is the best fit so far), so I went looking through the basic ideals of the most prominent protestant religions in the US post 1850 and I wanted to know what the basic ideals of southern baptist were since that's what I was raised (but haven't practiced since I was like 7 since im a big queer) since that's 90% of where I grew up since we have that 11th largest megachurch in the united states and uhhhhh

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Eccentricity [Chapter 10: Stay, I Need To Be Myself]

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the fluffy times while they lasted. 😉

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: “Where Were You When The Sky Opened Up” by The Dangerous Summer.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual references (not graphic), angstttttttttt.

Word Count: 6k. 

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​​​ @bramblesforbreakfast​​​​​​ @maggieroseevans​​​​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​​​​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​​​​ @escabell​​​​ @im-an-adult-ish​​​​​ @queenlover05​​​​ @someforeigntragedy​​​​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​​​​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee​​​​ @deacyblues​​​​ ​ @tensecondvacation​​​ @brianssixpence​​​​ @some-major-ishues​​​ @haileymorelikestupid​​​ @youngpastafanmug​​​ @simonedk​

Uninvited

“Hey, it’s our song!” Joe turned up the radio as he steered his Subaru down the Lees’ cobblestone driveway and into a parking spot facing the woods. We’d been back from Chicago for a full week now, and—with the notable exceptions of classes and the early morning hours when Joe soundlessly crept out of my bedroom window—were very rarely apart.

“And I would do anything for love

I’d run right into hell and back

I would do anything for love

I’d never lie to you and that's a fact.”

“Uh, this is not our song,” I objected, the soles of my shoes propped against the dashboard. “I was not consulted. A couple’s official song cannot be a unilateral decision.”

“But I'll never forget the way you feel right now

Oh no, no way

And I would do anything for love

Oh I would do anything for love

I would do anything for love, but I won’t do that

No, I won’t do that.”

“Oh okay, what are you, the relationship police? Alright, Chief Baby Swan, let’s hear your brilliant suggestion. Wait, let me guess. Something by The Killers. Vampire Weekend. My Bloody Valentine. Is there a band called Chipotle Veggie Bowl?”

“Never Gonna Give You Up?” I suggested.

He laughed, dragging me over the center console and into his lap. “Oh, you are the worst!”

I straddled him in the driver’s seat, cupped his face in my palms, giggled as I touched my lips to his, soft and cool and lithe and inviting. When I broke the kiss, Joe pulled me back in, knotting his fingers through my hair. The way my thighs fit perfectly around him; that sharp, instinctual, now so familiar ache of longing. “I want you,” I breathed.

He pretended to be scandalized. “Right now? At this exact moment? In my parents’ driveway?”

“Yeah,” I confessed.

He grinned, unbuckling his belt. “Okay.”

“Really?!”

“Yes. I’ve lost all sense of decency. I’m an animal. You’ve absolutely ruined me.” His hands travelled beneath my U Chicago sweatshirt and tore it over my head. Yes, he had converted me to Chicago apparel. It was very embarrassing. Let’s move on.

“I’m sorry,” I moaned softly. I lied. I wasn’t sorry at all.  

“I think we might need to get our own place.”

“Why?”

“Because I love the way you ruin me. And I want you to do it...” He went on, kissing me after each word: “All. The. Fucking. Time.”

I yanked off his Cubs t-shirt in one vicious tug. “We’re okay out here?” I didn’t really care; I should have, I was aware of that. But I didn’t. The Lees, most likely, would not call my dad to report us for public indecency. I could imagine Scarlett’s voice in my head, warm with approval: Get it, girl.

“Totally. And we’re far enough away from the house, Rami shouldn’t be able to hear us.” Joe nipped lightly down the side of my neck: carefully, always so carefully.

“He’d only get your side of things anyway.”

“Well yeah, that’s what I’m worried about! Your thoughts wouldn’t be so intrusive. I don’t care if he knows I’m a fantastic lay.”

“Oh, are you?” I teased, grinding my hips against him. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Joe smiled as he unbuttoned my jeans, deliciously slowly. “Well let me...just...refresh your...memory...”

I kissed him, roughly and deeply, arching into him, biting his lower lip. Yes, yes, yes...

Joe pulled away, still smiling but blinking and dazed. “Wow, all the sudden I feel...like...really calm.”

“Thanks...?” A week of almost constant sex might do that to a person. Sure, maybe, what did I know? My lips found his again. My hand skated down his bare stomach and into the waistband of his boxers. Joe began to help me peel off my jeans; then he stopped.

“Wait wait wait, I know this feeling.” Joe lifted me off of him and pushed me back into the passenger’s seat, gently but stubbornly. I tried not to be offended.

“What—?”

“Shhh.” He grabbed the headrest of my seat and twisted around to peer out of the rear windshield. I followed his gaze. There was a new car in the driveway, parked up by the front porch: an anonymous black Honda Civic. The plate said California. It was probably a rental. “Oh fuck,” Joe whispered. His eyes were enormous, glassy, horrified.

“What is it?”

“Stay here.” He threw on his Cubs t-shirt, zipped his pants, fastened his belt. “Stay down, stay quiet. And no matter what happens do not get out of this car, do you understand me?”

“Joe, why—?”

“Do you understand me?” His voice was low but severe, so incredibly unlike him; his dark eyes were flinty. Just like that night with the apples in Mercy’s kitchen, that night when Ben almost...

“I understand,” I heard myself reply.  

“Good.” Joe climbed out of the Subaru—smoothing his shirt and then his tousled hair—and rushed over to intercept the unsolicited guest. I peeked around my headrest to watch, my right palm braced against the center console, that feverish lust that had been rushing through my bloodstream gradually weakening, perishing, vanishing like seawater baked from the sand under a rising sun.  

The stranger stepped out of the Honda Civic, and although I knew his face, it took me a moment to place him. It was like—I could only imagine, having never been myself—a child stumbling into their movie heroines and beloved stuffed animals come to life during their first trip to Disneyland, amazed and yet somehow gut-twistingly uneasy as they gawked up at that grotesquely inflated cartoon face, that mask of lipstick and rouge that didn’t quite match their recollections, that dreamlike mirage plucked from pages or screens and impelled into a physical form that suddenly swallowed up space and gravity and oxygen. I had seen this stranger before in the massive painting that adorned Gwilym Lee’s upstairs office.

Cato.

He was very tall and very beautiful, classically beautiful, Ben-level beautiful. Joe often jokingly referred to him as Idris Elba within the Lee household, and a mid-thirties version of Idris Elba was just about right. He wore an immaculately tailored grey suit and aviator sunglasses, which he removed to greet Joe, folding and then sliding them smoothly into the front pocket of his suit jacket. His face was solemn and observant; he had a closely-trimmed beard without a fleck of silver. He extended a hand, which Joe shook.

“Hey, Cato!” I heard Joe say, muffled through the walls of the Subaru. I couldn’t make out Cato’s replies; his voice sounded deep, rumbling, extremely level. “So nice of you to stop by! I didn’t know you were in town. Yeah, everyone’s doing great. Even Ben. Hahaha, yeah, you know how he is. You know exactly how he is. But it’s all good. Well look, I’m just gonna go run a friend home and then I’ll be back in fifteen, maybe twenty minutes and we can all chat. Okay? Awesome. Feel free to head inside, I’m sure Mercy would be thrilled to play hostess. There’s sweet tea in the fridge and a hummingbird cake on the counter and...oh, something else too...some weird type of cookies she baked this morning. Help yourself. I’ll be back before you can say ‘tyrannical vampire murder cult.’”

“Tyrannical vampire murder cult,” it looked like Cato replied without a hint of a smile. But he wasn’t paying attention to Joe anymore. His eyes had found the Subaru, and then me; he was staring with that intense, seeking bewilderment that reminded me of Rami and Lucy and Ben when I’d first met them, when they were still trying to puzzle out why my mind (and my mind alone) was a night-draped, silent ocean of the unknown.

He's trying to read me, I realized. He’s trying to read me and he can’t.

Joe was jogging back to the Subaru now. At last, Cato turned away from me and headed into the house. The carved pumpkins from Weber’s Farm still lined the front porch: Scarlett’s Thunderbird, Archer’s Vantage, Rami’s swooping bat, Lucy’s moon and stars, Joe’s moustached jack-o-lantern, my (but actually Gwil’s) snapshot under the sea, Ben’s miniature Lee residence complete with the winding cobblestone driveway. Joe swept into the driver’s seat, adjusted his rearview mirror, and spun out of the parking spot.

“Goddammit,” he hissed as we barreled down the driveway.

“Why is Cato here?”

“I have no idea.” Joe looked straight ahead as he drove, preoccupied, consumed with possibilities. His fingers drummed the steering wheel. “We have to pay dues to them, all the covens do. Gwil cuts a check. But that’s not until around the New Year. That’s almost always when Cato stops by. Collects the payment, interrogates us in a way that masquerades as conversation, hangs around town for a few days, reports back whatever we’re up to...which usually isn’t much. Holidays with the extended family, gotta love it. I don’t know why he would be here now.” Joe shook his head. “Maybe something to do with Ben. It would have to be Ben. There’s no other reason.”

“And you don’t want him to know about me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“But...Cato isn’t all that dangerous,” I said, not understanding. “Is he?”

“Not alone, no. But the people he works for are.” Joe sighed, glancing over at me as he drove, serious and sorry and sad. “There’s a lot of violence in my world. A lot of darkness. I’ve tried to protect you from that as much as possible. And maybe I’ve done too good a job, maybe it’s too easy for you to forget what we really are. Most vampires aren’t like Gwil’s coven. They’re not like me. They kill easily and unrepentantly. And I don’t want any of them knowing that you exist, that you’re a weakness of ours. I want them to know as little about you as physically possible.”

“A weakness,” I repeated. I didn’t like that.

He smiled faintly. “It’s a compliment to be somebody’s weakness, Baby Swan.”

“I guess so.” The towering pine trees whipped by in a verdant blur. The sky above was thick and grey and churning. “You’ll be okay, right? Ben will be okay?”

Joe seemed to find that amusing, ridiculous even. “You don’t need to worry about us.”

“But I still do.”

“We’ll work it out, whatever it is. Cato is a reasonable guy. And Ben is definitely capable of...well. Advocating for himself.”

Capable of unparalleled carnage, he means. The memory of the first day I’d met Ben hit me like a hurled stone, illuminated my mind like a pulsing neon sign: the coiled tension in his muscles, that mindless, animalistic hatred in his eyes. Yes, he must be quite the monster when he wants to be. But he didn’t want to be anymore. I knew that completely, unquestioningly.

Joe pulled into Charlie’s driveway. The police car was gone; my 1999 Honda Accord and Charlie’s Toyota Corolla rested idly side by side. My dad would be working late tonight, until eight or nine at least. A pang of loneliness struck in my gut, just beneath the ribs; I had grown so accustomed to the absence of solitude, of quiet. The silence suddenly felt so loud.

“Don’t let it ruin your night,” Joe said as I got out of the Subaru. His words were affectionate; but his voice was still distracted, distant. “Don’t let it bother you. Everything will be fine, I promise. And as soon as Cato’s gone, everything will go back to the way it should be.”

“Okay,” I replied, not feeling very comforted at all. I don’t like the way he pushed me off him when he saw the car. The way he’s barely looked at me since. The way he called me a weakness.

Joe was already checking his mirrors, preparing to leave.

“Hey. Mob guy.” I leaned into the rolled-down window. “I love you.”

And the grin lit up Joe’s face like the sun. He crawled across the passenger’s seat, drew me into him by the collar of my brand new U Chicago hoodie, kissed me until that wild, interrupted desire was flaring up again in my arteries and nerve endings and everywhere else. The thunderous clouds in my skull split open. Everything’s still okay. It really is. “I love you to death. And then back again.” He retreated and shifted the Subaru into reverse. “I’ll see you soon. But maybe not too soon, I might be tied up with this family thing for a while. Don’t wait up tonight.”

“No problem. I’ll just call one of my other monster boyfriends to keep me company. The werewolf should be free. It’s not a full moon, is it?”

“No bestiality,” Joe retorted sternly. “That’s illegal, ma’am.”

I smiled and waved as the Subaru swerved out of the driveway and disappeared. Everything’s okay, I told myself, standing in the front yard under darkening skies. Everything will be okay.

And I kept telling myself that, again and again like Hail Marys, until I was dozing off in my bed alone six hours later.

Hit It And Quit It

I dreamed of the beach at La Push—my toes wriggling beneath the cold sand, the ricocheting cries of seagulls, the primordial growl of the frothing waves—and woke up with the ghost of saltwater in my sinuses. I grabbed my iPhone off the nightstand. Two new texts: one from Archer—Hey would it be distasteful or hilarious to dress up as Dracula for the Lee Halloween party? Asking for a friend.—and one from Jessica asking if she could copy my Marine Botany homework. Absolutely nothing from Joe.

When was the last time I didn’t have a text from Joe waiting for me in the morning? I struggled to remember, my mind still foggy with snippets of dreams. A week? Two weeks? A month? It felt like forever.

I tapped out a text to Joe with my clumsy, just-waking-up thumbs: I am resolved. No more nights with my werewolf boyfriend. Dude scratched the hell out of me and then barked at the mailman. Had to drop him off at the SPCA for neutering. See you soon! xxxx

I tried not to obsessively check my phone as I showered, got dressed, gathered my textbooks and notepads and pens. And yet still, I noticed: Joe didn’t text me back.

The rain poured from a grey sky all through my drive to Calawah University, Marine Botany class with Jessica, our frantic dash across campus beneath her hot pink umbrella to Forks And Spoons. My human friends had custody of me during lunchtime today. Angela was studying for a Computer Science quiz, Eric working on an article for the Calawah Chatterbox, Mike histrionically lamenting a sprained ankle coming just on the cusp of basketball season. Jessica bought me a chocolate chip muffin as thanks for texting her a picture of our Marine Botany homework this morning. Ah, the sweet taste of academic dishonesty.

I was relieved—more than I would have liked to admit—that all five Lees were at their usual lunch table, looking worn and tired but normal enough. Ben was hiding behind a pair of sunglasses and his black U Chicago hoodie that Joe and I had bought for him last weekend, sipping steaming tea out of a mug that he gripped with both hands. Scarlett flipped moodily through an astrophysics textbook. Rami repeatedly tapped the tabletop with a pen while Lucy knitted a lavender sweater, never raising her eyes from the jumble of yarn in her lap. They all murmured to each other in low, furtive voices, their mouths barely moving. Joe gave me a wave and a drawn smile; but only after I waved first.

Angela was now scolding Jessica for her lack of moral integrity.

Jess rolled her eyes, gnawing on a chicken finger that was burned black around the edges. “I’m here ostensibly to become an anthropologist and in actuality to find a hot rich husband, not to learn how to identify like sixty different types of algae.”

“Then why even take Marine Botany?” Angela asked, confounded.

“Calawah University forces every student to take at least two science classes, even if you’re a humanities major. Because they’re fucking fascists.”

“Oh, fascists, a big word for you!” I congratulated Jessica, patting her shoulder before returning my attention to my homemade veggie quesadilla and leftover slice of Mercy’s hummingbird cake. I was getting so good at this eating respectable meals thing. Joe would be proud.

Angela chuckled. “How’s that finding a husband thing going, by the way?”

“Awfully,” Jessica sighed. “I had this really promising flirtationship going with a frat boy in my Indigenous Peoples of the Arctic class. Ellsworth Jonathan Griffin, gorgeous blue eyes, blond man bun, his dad is a partner at a corporate law firm in Los Angeles. That’s the stuff dreams are made of. But I’m pretty sure he dropped out because I haven’t seen him in a few days. Also he would bring Absolut vodka to class in an Aquafina bottle.”

“You can probably do better,” I said.

“Well we can’t all end up with Lee boys, now can we?” Jess snapped irritably.

When it was time to depart for our afternoon classes, I met Joe in the doorway of Forks And Spoons, linked my fingers around the back of his neck, tugged at his dark, auburn-tinted hair.

“You okay, mob guy? You seem a little...” Exhausted? Edgy? Sad? “...Distracted.”

“I’m good. I’m great.” He kissed me briefly, fleetingly. No big deal; after all, we were in public. Right? “Are you cool to hang out later?”

“Absolutely. Can we go to La Push if it stops raining? I know it’ll be cold, but I woke up with the beach on my mind and haven’t been able get it out all day.”

“You got it. Can I meet you there? I have to take care of a few things first. Have to, uh, hunt.”

I stared up at him, feeling my stomach drop, feeling rapidly and jarringly off-kilter. Joe rarely mentioned hunting around me...not in a serious way, at least. It was one of those things that knocked me out of the fantasy of how compatible we were, how possible. It was a reminder of all those interminable differences that lived in the hushed space between us. “Okay.”

“I’ll...I’ll explain everything then. At La Push.”

“Okay,” I said again, very uncleverly. What’s going on here? What exactly did Cato say?

Joe smirked; finally a flash of playfulness, that contagious light he was built of. He smoothed my hair with one feather-light stroke of his hand, touched his lips to my forehead. “Don’t be late to Chemistry. I can’t have you failing out.”

“Of course not. How would I be able to get my Marine Biology PhD from U Chicago?”

But Joe didn’t laugh, didn’t even smile; he just left.

Ben was hunched over our table in Professor Belvin’s classroom, his arms encircling his notebook, the pen in his hand scribbling frenziedly. The window was wide open; the rain outside had weakened to a docile drizzle. He was still wearing his sunglasses. He didn’t acknowledge me at all.

“Rough night?” I asked, sliding into the seat beside him.

“Yeah.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I definitely do not.”

“I’m sorry,” I told him. Ben glanced up, his thick eyebrows raised; they peaked just above the rims of his opaque sunglasses. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

For a long time, Ben just looked at me; maybe wanting to say something, maybe just feeling that decorum necessitated it. “You shouldn’t be,” he replied at last. And he spent the rest of class paying no attention whatsoever to Professor Belvin’s lecture on the Pauli exclusion principle and instead scrawling untidy Welsh phrases into the formerly pristine pages of his notebook.

It was just after 5 p.m. when I arrived at La Push, the tires of my 1999 Honda Accord crunching over the gravel of the small parking area, the wind whipping ferociously. Joe had gotten there first; he was sitting on a rock down by the water with his back to me, peering out over the Pacific Ocean, tossing pebbles and shells into the waves. We had an hour of daylight left. The sky was obscure, grey, dim. Fine droplets of rain like mist sailed through the biting autumn air and clung to my skin.

When Joe spotted me, he leapt off the rock and watched me approach with his hands in the pockets of his North Face jacket. He wasn’t wearing anything Chicago-related today, which was highly unusual. I waited for him to touch me, to hold me, to tell me that everything was okay and always would be...at least for the next ten to fifteen years. He didn’t. “Hey,” he said instead.

“Hi.”

Joe nodded down the beach. “Let’s walk.”

I have never been especially good at mundane, monotonous rambling. That’s a Scorpio thing. And yet monotonous rambling is exactly what I did: I prattled on about my classes, Charlie’s bowling league, Renee’s new life in Florida with Paul, the ocean, the weather, anything to fill that space between us that all at once felt so enormously significant. I was vaguely aware that I was afraid to stop talking; I didn’t want Joe to have the chance to say whatever was on his mind.

Finally, Joe stopped walking. He took my hand, ran his thumb over the faint scar from when I accidentally cut myself in Mercy’s kitchen. His shoes sank into the wet sand, left imprints there like fingerprints. He turned to face me, pained, grave, and oh god, far worse: guilty.

“What?” I asked, terror swelling in my lungs, my bones, some inborn warning of impending ruin.

Joe gazed out over the crashing sea, then came back to me, like a dislocated joint popping back into place. “I am so sorry.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I...” He spoke slowly, haltingly. “I thought that this was something that was doable. But I was wrong.”

“What...?” And then a possibility occurred to me, a glorious possibility. Of course. A grin erupted across my face. “This is a joke, right? You’re joking, you’re always joking, this is just—”

He shook his head. He wasn’t joking. I wrenched my hand out of his and stared up at him in furious disbelief.

“It’s not fair to you,” Joe said. “This thing, being with someone like me. I can’t give you a future. I can’t give you an uncomplicated existence. I mean, come on, you have to worry about getting murdered around my own family—”

“Do you have fucking amnesia?” I demanded, incredulous. “Joe, we just talked about this. We just made plans to move to Chicago after graduation, we agreed that it was what we both wanted. I don’t want a normal human boyfriend. I don’t want normal human in-laws. I want you, Joe, and Ben, and Mercy and Gwil, and Rami and Lucy and Scarlett, I want the whole ridiculous Lee family package and there’s nothing you could say to make me decide that this isn’t worth it.”

“Look—”

“No, something happened, right? Something happened with Cato, or Ben, or someone, something happened and now you think that you have to do this but I’m telling you that whatever it is we can figure it out, we can figure it out together, isn’t that what you promised me?” He said he wouldn’t leave. He promised me he wouldn’t leave. All those things...all those things he said...

“Listen.” And now his eyes were stony. He didn’t call me Baby Swan. Oh, this is bad. This is so bad. “It’s not fair to me either.”

“And that’s what this is really about,” I realized. My voice was abruptly fierce, caustic. All those other women; those beautiful, graceful, immortal women. How did I ever think I could compare?

“It’s not personal.”

“It’s the most personal thing there is, Joe, it’s pasts and futures and love—”

“It’s not though.” He smiled, just barely. “Maybe we thought it was, but it’s not.”

It hit me like a brick, like a bullet; I couldn’t catch my breath. I was drowning in thin air, like a sawfish, like a shark. “Well I’m glad you figured that out on your own fucking schedule.”

“This was my fault,” he said. “All of it. And I am so profoundly sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, and I take full responsibility for it. I hope you’re able to move on knowing that there’s nothing you could have done differently. These are just the realities of my world. You’re better off in your own. And you’re going to make someone very happy someday.”

It's all so empty, so excruciatingly generic. “You’re a monster,” I seethed at him, tears stinging in my eyes.

“Yes,” Joe agreed softly.

“I hate you.” I wasn’t sure if I meant that, but I still said it. Maybe I could will it into being true, like how people find God after a particularly grim diagnosis; there’s no harm in trying to make it real. There’s nothing left to lose.

“That would be more than fair, given the circumstances,” he said. “I won’t bother you again. I’ll ask you to do the same for me.”

“Sure.” Tears were streaming down my cheeks now; my breaths were ragged, hitching. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from him.

A shadow of concern crossed his face, the first one I had noticed since yesterday afternoon. “If you need someone to drive you home, I’d be happy to—”

“I’d literally rather die.” And I left Joseph Francis Mazzello standing on the beach with the twilight wind in his hair and the sun setting behind him like time slipping through an hourglass.

I fled to my Honda, turned the keys in the ignition, covered my face with my hands and wept in raw, heaving shudders as Hungry Like The Wolf played from the mixtape that Joe had left in my cassette player. I ejected the mixtape, rolled down my window, tossed it out onto the rain-slick gravel. I couldn’t stand the thought of going home. Charlie would be at work until late tonight; Joe would never set foot in the house again.

I have to go somewhere. I can’t just sit in that goddamn bedroom. I can’t be alone.

I wheeled my car onto the main road and drove until I came to an unceremonious mechanic’s garage with a fractured concrete floor and cracks like spider legs across the windows. When I stepped out of my Honda, Archer raced over to meet me, beaming and wiping his hands clean with an oil rag.

“Hey, you know you’re not allowed to come here unless you bring Taco Bell with you...” Then he saw me, he really saw me. “Whoa, what—?”

And Archer caught me as I collapsed into his arms, sobs ripping through my throat like fangs.

Benjamin, 24 Hours Earlier

It was bad. Whatever this was, it was bad.

I knew because Rami could read Cato, and I could read Rami; the hazy wisps of color that unfurled from him were a hectic, wrestling electric blue: distress, grief, anxiety, denial. Cato’s own aura had always been rather unforthcoming—he tended towards deep, mellow greens and purples of congruence and contemplation—and forever tinted with an opalescent quality that spread like wildfire to the people around him, the people who were under his influence, that intangible calming and harmonizing effect, that irrational sense of wellbeing. Everyone in the room had that faint opalescence shimmering around them now, even Rami, whose unspoken turmoil remained a roiling rather than a storm. And I thought—not for the first time—that if Larkin was a spade that hollowed you out, scraped along the jagged snags of your split bones to empty you of any ambitions and loyalties that had come before, then Cato was the anesthetic that made the mangling go down smoother, the promise that you would someday still catch glimpses of innocence. Larkin was a purger, a purifier; Cato made you believe again.

There were pitchers of sweet tea and a heaping tray of butter pecan cookies on the living room coffee table. Cato sat on the neat white sofa, one leg crossed over the other, stoic, waiting. Rami stared vacantly from the loveseat; Lucy was beside him, her delicate bare feet tucked beneath her and her fingers laced through Rami’s, her brow knit into grooves of worry. Scarlett was next to me on the largest couch, her boots propped up on the edge of the coffee table, her hair in a long French braid, periodically cracking her knuckles. It was nearly the only sound. Mercy bustled around the room gifting everyone tall chilled glasses of sweet tea; Gwil stood by the virtual fireplace on the big-screen tv, his hands in his pockets, his lips pressed into a rigid line.

The front door opened, and Joe stepped inside, his car keys rattling in his fist. For as long as I’d known him, his color had so often been a bright and buttery yellow, his aura more visible and constant than anyone else’s. Lately, he was increasingly cloaked in the rosy pinks of love or the vivid, shifting, crimson reds of lust; and Rami and I bonded over our shared efforts to politely ignore that particular variety of thoughts.

Joe pointed to Cato. “What’s going on?”  

“How long?” Cato asked him.

Joe feigned cluelessness. “Huh? What do you mean? Oh, car chick?! That’s nothing. She’s just a friend.”

Cato blinked. “Do you really think I just arrived in Forks today?”

It rolled through Joe like a wave: surrender, apprehension, dread. The realization that Cato had been watching us for days, weeks even, meticulously keeping just enough distance to stay out of Rami’s range of hearing. Joe’s now-opalescent aura dipped from cerise to an agitated mahogany. “Two months.”

“And she’s talented.” Cato’s voice was impatient, incredulous; How could you be this stupid? that voice said.

“No,” Joe flared, like shards of wood cracking in a fire. “No, she’s got nothing to do with you, with us. With our world. She’s got nothing to do with it.”

Cato circled the fingerprint of his index finger around the rim of his misted glass of sweet tea, meditative. “In one hundred and seventy years, I have never met someone who I couldn’t find if I wanted to. And yet the second I turned my back on that girl, she was gone. Vanished. The world was a blank map. How is that possible?”

No one said anything. Finally, Cato looked to Rami.

“You can’t hear her thoughts, can you?”

“No,” Rami admitted.

“And how many times has that happened in...how old are you now, the same as Ben? How many times in the past century have you met someone who made you feel normal, weak even? Who made you feel human again?”

“Never,” Rami conceded.

“You too, right?” Cato asked me. “You can’t see what she’s feeling. She’s nothing but white noise.”

I nodded reluctantly.

“She’s talented,” Cato said again, decisive.

“Oh god,” I choked out, burying my face in my hands. Now I knew what Rami had heard. I knew everything.

Joe shook his head almost violently. “No, that’s not fair. There’s no way of knowing if that would translate to life as a vampire or how it would manifest. There’s no way of knowing if she would survive the transition at all. And none of us are ever going to find out because she has nothing to do with our world.”

“She does,” Cato insisted. “Because you brought her into it.”

Scarlett shivered beside me, crossed her arms over her chest, clutched her leather jacket tighter. “You can’t be serious, Cato. You’re not a monster, you know she might not survive—”

“And that would stop Gwil. It would stop me, sure. When has it ever stopped Larkin?” Cato gestured to me. “With him? With me? With Akari or Araminta or Liesl or Rigel or all the ones who didn’t make it, who died screaming as they scorched from the inside out? It has never stopped him because he doesn’t care. He finds talented people. He covets them, covets them jealously, like jewels or money or lovers. And they either become one of his possessions or they become nothing at all.”

“No,” Joe whispered. “No, no, no...”

Rami was shrinking into the loveseat, overwhelmed by the emotions in the room that were dragging his aura into whirling greys, those desperate and dark thoughts; not even Cato could mute them entirely. Lucy tried to soothe him, laid the back of her fine-boned hand against his cheek. Mercy covered her gaping mouth. Gwil studied the floor, thunderstruck, absorbing it all.

“This is a courtesy that I’m doing you right now,” Cato told Joe, his large palms clasped together, his voice sorrowful and yet unyielding, almost pleading. “This is a warning. If he finds out about her, about what she can do...he’s going to want her. And he gets everything he wants.”

“He can’t find out,” Gwil said hoarsely.

“No,” I agreed. Death or a hundred-year sentence. Either way, a part of you dies. Either way, a part of you ends up in a box six feet underground and clawing for the sun.

“What can we do?” Scarlett asked Cato. “I mean...is there anything we can do?”

“You have to get rid of her. That’s her only chance. Get her out of your orbit, away from our world, away from where Larkin or anyone who serves him would ever cross her path. I won’t tell him about the girl. I’ll try to deflect his attention. If she’s already been spotted, I’ll tell him that she’s useless, just another one of Joe’s litany of casual liaisons. And that’s a risk I’ll take, I’ll do it out of respect for your coven, Dr. Lee, and for Ben. But there is absolutely nothing I can do for you if Larkin finds out for himself. I don’t think I’m the only one he has watching you.”

“Of course not,” I said bitterly. “I’m sure he has all sorts of eyes on me. The white whale. The one that got away.” This is my fault. It’s all my fucking fault.

“It’s not,” Rami murmured; and nobody else heard my side of it, but I think they understood.

Joe’s aura was now murky, sunless, almost black. It was a color I hadn’t thought he was capable of. His eyes were slick and bleary.

“Son?” Gwil prompted. Mercy was sobbing into a handkerchief patterned with roses. Mom, I ached instinctively, before pushing the thought away.

“I won’t do it,” Joe said. “You’re asking me to break her heart and I won’t do it.”

I begged: “Joe, you don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t understand! You don’t understand what this will do to her, what it’s going to do to her for the weeks and months and years that come after, she might never forget—”

“Do you want her to end up dead or in a hundred-year contract?” Cato shot back. “Do you want to see how much of that girl you care about so much is left after a century with Larkin?”

Everyone’s eyes fell on me. I could feel them, full of pity and horror. I’m what’s left. Someone gutted of everything but rage and bloodlust.

“No, of course not,” Joe said. Thanks a lot, brother.

Cato smirked without any humor at all. He had known. “Then the choice is easy.”

“Son,” Gwil said again.

Joe gazed back at him with huge, agonized eyes. His words were brittle, raspy, hollow. “Dad, I love her.”

“I know,” Gwil replied. His aura was a blue like cobalt: profound sympathy, compassion, mourning. “And that’s why you’ll do the right thing.”

Twenty minutes later, I was puffing on my vape pen as I paced back and forth across the wrap-around porch like a caged bear, watching the sun disappear behind the western hemlock trees that raked the clouds. Gwil, Rami, Lucy, and Scarlett were with Joe; Mercy was trying to convince Cato to stay the night in one of the guest bedrooms. I could hear her ludicrously gracious protestations through the walls. “We know it’s not your fault, dear, this...this...situation. We know you’re just the messenger. And you’ve been so important to Ben all these years, so kind. It’s really no trouble at all...here, let me at least wrap up some cake for you to take...”

The front door opened and closed. Scarlett appeared beside me, resting her forearms on the porch railing. She sighed, closed her eyes, said nothing.

“This is going to destroy him,” I told her.

Scarlett nodded, her face bathed in silvery moonlight, marvelous and yet forlorn. The aura that surrounded her was a deep, despondent indigo. It matched the sky. “Yeah.”

“And to think...” I exhaled heavily, nicotine-tinged vapor vanishing into the damp night air. Rain was coming; I could feel it in my bones. “I was just beginning to like it here.”

[fivefootab1tch]

allllllrighty~ here’s my tHING~<3 i recognize that i talk pretty fast (and i was also trying to be hushhush so i probably didn’t come out as clear as i wanted to) so i’m including a script under the cut~

Tagged by @momtaku, @laffitine, & @dirtylevi ~ ♡ //thank y'all smmmmm// Tagging @shuuhuu @madcapraccoon @matcha-castella @starry-raven​ & everyone else on here who needs an excuse to do it and wants to. i’ll share the love and peer pressure asdkjfnak

'Aight, so here's my stab at Mamataku's SnK Voice Meme 4.0! I wrote a script to try and keep myself on track, but... the fuck if I ever know how to play right, so here we go~

State your name and username. 『sal, fivefootab-i-tch』 Is there a story behind your user name that you’d like to share? 『it's from an o.g. fandom video called "More Sassy Levi (Ezekieru Outtakes)". this was way before i was more or less tumblr savvy and i've gone through variations of it before settling on this one to mimic Ezekieru's pronunciation of BITCH. i'd wanna have a completely hyphenless version of this url to make my presence easier for the tumblr system to SWALLOW, kkkk but it's taken. the version of it with a 1 instead of the i isn't though... so maybe i'll switch to that one, i dunno. what's a brand?』 Where are you from? 『i'm from the states, southern california, bordertown asscrack of the U.S. you might get that lazy, high as balls, surfer feel from my voice since i've been here all my life』 How long have you been a fan of the series? 『i'm about two years late from the anime release, and i only know this because i immediately started writing fanfiction after binging the series in summer 2015. so... coming on 4 years? damn.』 What is your favorite and least favorite Arc? 『my favorite arc is the uprising arc, a pretty popular opinion, for a lot of reasons: the sudden turn of events, levi's collarbones, levi as a kid, KENNY, the characters all having their own unique identity crisis as their morals are suddenly taking turns, historia reclaiming her identity... (which was something that hits a little too close to home for comfort, but what's a good series that doesn't rip your personal feelings to shreds?)』 『i'm not a big fan of the marley side of things, another pretty popular opinion. for me, suddenly switching to a new cast of characters and setting after so much was accomplished in the uprising arc and return to shiganshina felt like betrayal. i mean... they get to the basement, which was the whole ass goal of the entire series up to that point, then we suddenly screech to a halt to tell someone elses' story. i can understand it... theoretically? i guess? bbut the whole time i was still like "wait a minute, what happened with the main cast?" bits and pieces of it have grown on me since, but i still have a ways to go to invest myself. politically, i just realized... marley really grinds my gears. why did i have to realize this? i'm shook. i can't believe this. i'll process it later.』 Do you have a favorite moment in the story thus far? 『eren screaming "the world outside the walls is my birthright" for... reasons. historia reclaiming her identity for... reasons... i've found myself hyperinvested in this series for immensely personal reasons i hope to eventually see through in my own life. i wanna be free, too. i also liked the moment in the uprising arc when levi thanked armin for saving jean. it was rough, but something he needed to hear. also any moment levi praises people. it's really cute.』 If you could resurrect one dead character who would it be and why? 『kuchel, because not only does levi deserve his mother but i would've loved to see more of her and how she raised levi into the compassionate kind of guy he is now. that side of him survived the tough love kenny put him through, so she must've breathed hella life into her kid and that's something i'd love to have seen more of』 Who is your favorite character and why? 『levi, for a lot of obvious as well as not so obvious reasons.』 『obvious reasons: he's pretty fucking cute. his sass and one liners are hilarious. his sense of humor's a clusterfuck of bad shit jokes and dark takes the people around him don't understand half the time and that's pretty funny in itself. he's o.p. as hell but the way the story makes it not matter when it comes down to it (because the universe is just THAT fucked up) is really something. he's in a league of his own but the depth of his characterization and development shows that's only a small part of who he is. the story demands so much more of him and the ways he rises (and sometimes falls) to the occasion makes me really like him. he's showcased as Humanity's Strongest but he's still human and flawed as fuck.』 『not so obvious reasons: he says fuck gender roles. he's short and makes the trans guy side of me feel pretty good. that particular character trait isn't just a gag for me. he started from the bottom now he's here. he always sides with the powerless, the helpless. he (to his own personal moral code) uses the strength he has for good as opposed to using it to keep people below him, something he could very well do if he uncritically internalized everything kenny spoonfed him, and wanted to. he doesn't sit on a moral high horse. he's open minded and accepting of letting people decide things for themselves. he's humble. if he doesn't understand something, he'll look to other people and he does all that while remaining confident and assertive in his own abilities. he doesn't hold himself above doing the dirty work if he feels he's best suited to do it. he genuinely cares about people and does his best to talk them through their issues when they need it, even if he's clumsy while doing it. it's really inspirational and personally validating .』 Any OTPs? 『erejean hits me a certain way. they're everything "boys will be boys" is SUPPOSED to mean, and i still can't get over jean calling eren cool. they're just so funny and i love their dynamic. hange and petra hits too for a reason i don't really understand yet. i don't get super invested in pairings, but i do like seeing character dynamics being explored in different lights and stuff. **** i bonded with my partner over roleplaying an au ereri thread, so that pairing's pretty special too. i didn't ship it at first, but being open to it has led me to getting to know this amazing person, so... yeah.』 You are able to transport to the SnK Universe for a day. How do you spend it? 『helping out. i don't know what i'd be able to contribute, but i'd want to be doing something to make the lives of the main cast easier. they have it really hard, and so many times i wanted to be able to do something for them. so i write my original characters into fanfiction. on the other hand, if it's a world where i'm independent and free to live whatever life i wanna live, i'd wanna go absolutely apeshit first. see everything there is to see and live all the life there is to live. ****perform a strip tease at a scout party and have the officers stick bills into my boobs.**** THEN commit myself to some sort of social or military work for the scouting legion. ****be their comfort... if yaknoe what i mean. it's good honest work~♡****』 Eren Jaeger did nothing wrong or Eren Jaeger did everything wrong? 『eren jaeger is what eren jaeger does. i can't vouch for whether or not he's right or wrong because there's no way i can really put myself in the situation he's in. mass genocide is very wrong, without a doubt, but something tells me there's something else going on and his real intentions are more complicated. a pivotal point in the series for him was his tribunal, where levi played the role of the arrogant wank to save his life and beat his ass before the whole military court. i think there's something similar going on here. he could be playing a role too, but it still stands that i have no idea. i'm not so invested in condemning or glorifying him, because the things i enjoy about his character aren't really going to be influenced.』 What is your favorite song in the series? Feel free to sing an extract 『i love them all. hiroyuki sawano makes such amazing soundtracks and all the vocals are powerful and chilling as fuckall hell. some favorites i do have are red swan, Vogel im Käfig, Bauklötze, call your name, it's answer song call of silence, youseeBIGGIRL, the spanish version of so ist es immer. so uh... even though i'm not very good at it, i do really love singing, so... i'm gonna try and sing some for y'all. i know a lot more english, japanese, and spanish than i do german so... i'm sorry!』 ****『Like the scarlet night veiling the dark You can hide your fear Can lie, my dear Kono mama yume wo mite Chi darake no tsubasa Hirogete』**** 『Las sillas ya juntas están Charlamos toda la noche  Este lugar no esta nada mal  Y creo que nos llevamos bien ****Solo estamos nosotros  Siempre es nuestra luz  Cantando y bebiendo, puedes estar tu Bajo el cielo azul  Siempre estamos asi  Y largas son las noches aqui』 『Ist das der Zerstörer oder der Schöpfer?』**** 『one of these days, when i feel more bearable to listen to, i'll... try and do some full ass covers, if y'all would be down for that ♡』 Bonus: What would Erwin do? 『about... what? everything going down now? i dunno. all i can offer is a dream daddy reference. he's chilling in Margaritaville somewhere... 』 Say the following: Wall Maria, Jean Kirschstein, Reiner Braun, Ymir, Theo Magath, Onyankopon, Kiyomi Azumabito, Hajime Isayama, Shiganshina Trio, Shingeki no Kyojin, Shinzou wo Sasageyo

[stfuisaac]

hello hello it’s lucky again and,, sadly,, we don’t have the technology that makes the thoughts we have just.... appear onto our screens yet... so this took a hot sec and still isn’t perfect bc i don’t plan on proofreading :\ but! here,, is,, my new,, drummer boy,, parumpumpumpum

‹ avan jogia, he/him, cis man, bisexual. › ISAAC BAROT is the TWENTY-SEVEN year old from SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA. when a friend asked them what they thought of the manor they said,  ❝ I HEARD THIS IS WHERE THEY DECIDED TO MAKE THE TWILIGHT ZONE. ❞ they claim GET OUT is their favorite scary movie, and if they were to die in a horror film they would BE OBLIVIOUS TO THERE EVEN BEING A KILLER UNTIL IT’S TOO LATE. their fears include MANNEQUINS, HITCH-HIKERS and DYING WITH NOTHING TO SHOW, and they don’t know we know, but… HE GOT INTO A (MUTUALLY) NEAR FATAL ALTERCATION WITH A STRANGER HE GAVE A RIDE TO (YES, HE WAS AN UBER DRIVER - HIS GREATEST SHAME). hope they enjoy their stay. ‹ PLATANCHOR requested by JOAKIM from STRESSED OUT penned by, LUCKY, 20, EST. ›

QUICK FACTS:

full name: isaac benjamin barot

date of birth: september 12, 1992

*does not perfectly reflect the below Big Three zodiac chart because that’s so much math

zodiac big three: virgo sun, taurus moon, libra rising

gender & pronouns: cis man & he/him

sexual orientation: bisexual

occupation: session drummer + lyft driver + ex-uber driver

mbti: entp

enneagram: 5w6

the song i listen to on repeat while i write the intro: “deja vu” - roger waters

BACKGROUND INFO:

alright. so.

isaac's backstory is neither tragic nor easy. his father was an immigrant who married his mother solely to get a green card (y’all, to be fair... the citizenship tests are whack). there wasn’t any real romance between the two, but the drop-ins always said otherwise. no, outside of putting on a show for government officials, isaac’s father and mother were friends at the best of times.

the best of times culminated in a son who grew up in an interesting dynamic. his father and mother never even attempted to be anything more than friends (with, as you can see, the occasional benefits). after the check-ins finally stopped, his father and mother even began sleeping in different rooms. his mother would trade in her queen for a double and replace the space his father used to take up with his cradle.

it was nothing like the ‘unhappy marriage’ trope, though... again, because they barely ever pretended to be married. they would take their wedding rings off when they went out with friends. sometimes they would even take off their rings around each other and talk the other up to someone attractive.

so it was unorthodox, but it was much better than his parents pretending to be in love in that way and giving him a skewed version of what romance should look like.

one down-side to it, though, was that isaac never knew who he was supposed to go to for what. usually it’s just a given that “if you need/want x, go to the matriarch, if you need/want y, go to the patriarch” but... what happens... when your parents are basically just your friends?

so thank god for growing up in the age of technology. like,, ya,, a literal baby can’t google things like “how to say ‘mom’” but a 15y/o can google “how to shave”

so... ya... his parents were his friends, the internet was his parent(s?).

one thing the internet couldn’t do? give him drums. it could introduce him to the likes of ringo starr, john bonham, keith moon, and ginger baker, but it couldn’t give him drums... not when he was only, like... 10, at least.

so he put a set on his christmas wishlist and figured they would divide amongst themselves.

so ya, his 10th christmas, he got a shitty little rockwood hohner kit that he would use for the next nine years.

he never received any professional training. again, he didn’t know who to ask and... youtube wouldn’t exist for another three years. he tried to teach himself using a few books and, if nothing else, figured out a few simple beats and how to gain independence.

after learning those simple little beats and not knowing if he wanted to buy the next book, he decided to take a break and, instead of going back to professional books, he’d just listen to some of his favorite tracks... most of which were ginger baker... which made things kind of hard when he only had one bass drum, two tom-toms, and one floor tom. those, plus the really low quality pearl cymbals. still, he did his best to make it work.

just a side-note that, because of videos of ginger, isaac used (and still uses, out of habit) a mix of traditional and matched grip.

he went back and forth between the books and mimicking the patterns of other drummers (mostly ginger) up until he was around 16 and his friend, ribs (y’all), decided to teach him a few more technical skills. what you want to learn for this song are polyrhythms, but those are hard and no, ginger isn’t using a crash there, he’s using a splash and do you want a discount on some better cymbals and drumheads from my parents’s music shop because this is a very functional kit but it kind of sounds whack

he continued using the same whack kit, but replaced the heads with aquarians, as per ribs’s recommendation (but evans and remo are also good) and, after literally examining baker’s kit, replaced the cymbals with various zildjian collections

even though we stan istanbul agop in this house.

he also started listening to more drummers than... pretty much just baker with a hint of john bonham, keith moon, and ringo starr. as his friend suggested, he tried out drummers like buddy rich, art blakey, travis barker, dave grohl, karen carpenter, neil peart, nick mason, simon phillips –– even was told to listen to ac/dc songs just to see how a successful band could be made using essentially the same beat over and over and over.

so now he had some split time. school. work. practice. figure out who the hell was making dinner that night/if there was someone making dinner last night because they might both be talking each other up.

although he applied to various colleges, and although some of these colleges actually accepted him, he ultimately decided not to go. instead, he moved from san jose to los angeles in the hopes that he’d find something bigger than himself... and a new drum set...

he found the latter in a ludwig kit with two bass drums, two tom-toms, and two floor toms. then he just added a bunch of stuff and tried to make it like ginger baker’s. pretty much spent all of his money on it and then some.

when his friends formed a band and found success, he was very very happy for them... but... he found himself stuck... driving ubers.

and lyfts!

he’d seen the twilight zone before. he loved that show. he’d seen the episode ‘the hitch-hiker,’ so he was really driving for the companies against his better judgment. 

his worst uber story? the time a guy got into the car, had pinged a location that was still marked as a store on the uber gps but had recently been torn down, and tried to attack him when they got there :\ he 110% fought back, though. was fired because the other guy was the one who made it out injured.

only drove for lyft after that :\

he did take on a few projects, but he... proved to be too much of a roger waters for people who just wanted to chill and have fun. there would be adverts for people who wanted to form a band and he’d be like “hell yeah! finally! a band!” then he’d get pissed that they advertised it so seriously but really... just wanted to jam. did not have any plans to try to do anything with it.

the few projects he did join that involved people who wanted to actually achieve success... if they were slacking, you best bet his inner roger waters came out! which is why he never stuck around in any projects for too long!

but ‘projects’ and ‘jam sessions’ were totally different. you want to do ‘wipeout’ in a project? he’s gonna take that intro that literally everyone on the planet knows SERIOUSLY. you want to do ‘wipeout’ in a jam session? LET’S HAVE SOME FUN WITH IT.

he does some session/studio drumming for other artists to make some extra money while doing something he genuinely enjoys... but... still... it is no project™

in between things right now, he got a call from joakim that, while muffled and staticky, sounded like it said ‘get here, please’ and clearly stated where he was.

of course, voicemail lines were crossed and many many many essential words were left out – words that were basically saying the exact opposite ahfsdkjl. the shadow’s really playin them :\

so here he is, in all his glory.

TL;DR:

i was gonna kms if i didn’t play another drummer, so this is my ginger baker fanboy whose parents were literally just best friends and, as a result, were also both his friend. the internet raised him. started playing drums when he was 10 on a low qual kit with low qual cymbals that his parents got him for christmas, but literally why would you get a beginning a good set? continued playing. eventually moved to los angeles and tried to form many successful projects, but was too much of a roger waters. was summoned up here by the shadow man fucking around joakim. his greatest shame is how many ubers he has driven.

PERSONALITY INFO:

he will always say his proudest moment was when he learned how to play ‘toad’ by ginger baker cream all the way through.

big ginger baker fanboy.

loves the twilight zone and will just spill a random fact out about it every now and again.

a lowkey control freak which completely goes against the way he dresses and the vibe he gives off. 

is only a dick about it if you’re part of one of his ‘projects’ but aren’t taking it seriously tho :\

ok i’m too tired 2 write a personality section rn when im already rly bad at them but!! again!! feel free 2 j refer to the zodiac big three + the personality types!!

FEARS:

mannequins: they’re already creepy enough when you really think about it, then you add in that episode of the twilight zone where the characters wake up in an unfamiliar house and go outside and basically everyone is just a mannequin? ya he hates mannequins.

hitch-hikers: so, as we have just seen, he’s had it bad enough with people who were registered to an app, paying, their personal information readily available, etc., etc... so then what would happen if it was just a complete and utter stranger who didn’t have any personal information, any ping, and was the sole focus of a different twilight zone episode? he... is going... to drive past you. he’ll feel bad about it, but...

dying with nothing to show: here’s the money shot! here’s the deep fear! as has been shown throughout, isaac craves success and some form of a legacy. if he dies with nothing to show for his life, then was his life ever worth it in general?

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

ok,,, it might be bc im tired rn,,, but i have the most basic list that will hopefully be updated tomorrow bc it is SO VERY BASIC:

friends

fwb

ons

exes

enemies (much easier to get on his bad side than it is w/ fluke)

BRAINSTORMING AND/OR SOMETHING FROM YOUR WANTED CONNECTIONS AND/OR WHATEVER YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR!!!!

[prohaus]

30+

A challenge that had been dead a long time ago 

and I don’t have a diverse playlist. But here we go!

1.      A song you like with a color in the title Black Balloons Reprise – Flying Lotus, Denzel Curry

My favourite performance from Curry and production from Lotus. “Life is the ugliest bitch I ever messed with But she quick to down that nut back like Nesquik”

2.      A song you like with a number in the title A Tale of 2 Citiez – J. Cole

“Anybody is a killer, all you gotta do is push 'em to the limits”. Now give me the watch.

3.      A song that reminds you of summertime Sangria Wine – Pharrell Williams, Camilla Cabello

Cmon, it’s Pharell. “Let's float around like the fruit at the top”

4.      A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about Somebody Else – VERITE

“I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone and leaving with somebody else”

5.      A song that needs to be played LOUD m.A.A.d city – Kendrick Lama, MC Eiht

“This is not a rap on how I'm slingin' crack or move cocaine”. YAWK YAWK YAWK YAWK

6.      A song that makes you want to dance Man Don’t Dance – Big Shaq

Dance, no. Rambling while also pointing my finger in the air, yes.

7.      A song to drive to Easy – Mac Ayres

Probably a bad idea, since im get lost in music a lot, one of the reasons why I got my first accident because I was freestyling while I was riding my bike.

“I can say that loving you is easy. I don't need to prove a single thing”

8.      A song about drugs or alcohol Swimming Pools – Kendrick Lamar

Well, there is a lot…

“I am your conscience, if you do not hear me. Then you will be history, Kendrick. I know that you're nauseous right now”

9.      A song that makes you happy Scars to Your Beautiful – Alessia Cara

“But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark. You should know you're beautiful just the way you are”

Me beautiful :3

10.  A song that makes you sad See You Again – Tyler, The Creator, Kali Uchis

“I can only see your face when I close my eyes. Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever?”

11.  A song that you never get tired of Wesley’s Theory – Kendrick Lamar

I never get tired of this opening track, it’s really cool for me. Hell, I never get tired playing this album (TPAB) from front to back no skip.

“At first, I did love you. But now I just wanna fuck. Late nights thinkin' of you. Until I get my nut”

12.  A song from your preteen years Dangdut Is The Music of My Country – Project Pop

The first record that I (with my parents) bought wkwk.

“Semua orang macam diciptakan. Cakep atau jelek semua punya perasaan”

13.  One of your favorite 70’s songs Hotel California – Eagles

“Welcome to the Hotel California. Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place). Such a lovely face”

14.  A song that you would be loved played at your wedding Off Deez – JID, J. Cole

“Get off my dick, get off my dick. 40 my hip, loadin' my clip. Cannabis, cannabis, roll up my spliff”

Just kidding, it’s probably:

Say My Name – NIKI

“Soon as we get into the room. I know just what you like, just what to do”

15.  A song that is a cover by another artist Take On Me – Weezer

Cmon it’s “take on me”.

16.  One of your favorite classical songs Ain’t That A Kick In The Head – Dean Martin

Thanks Fallout New Vegas.

“The room was completely black. I hugged her and she hugged back”

17.  A song that would sing a duet with on karaoke Funky Sundays - AdhesiveWombat

18.  A song from the year that you were born Changes – Tupac Shakur, Talent

A posthumous release by the classic legend.

“First ship 'em dope and let 'em deal to brothers. Give 'em guns, step back, watch 'em kill each other. "It's time to fight back," that's what Huey said. Two shots in the dark, now Huey's dead. I got love for my brother. But we can never go nowhere unless we share with each other”

19.  A song that makes you think about life Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst – Kendrick Lamar

From the beats to the lyrics, it’s just beautiful. “Just promise me you'll tell this story when you make it big. And if I die before your album drop, I hope …”

20.  A song that has many meanings to you What Can We Do – Anderson .Paak, Nate Dogg

Probably one of the coolest production by Paak. But sure hell, this song makes me cry. Thanks Nate Dogg. “It's the rap singer, the hook master”

21.  A favorite song with a person’s name in the title CLOUT COBAIN – Denzel Curry

Another side of Mr. Curry. “I just wanna feel myself, you want me to kill myself. Man, I been on my own, Lord, I'ma need some help”

22.  A song that moves you forward Till I Collapse – Eminem, Nate Dogg

Since high school, this is my jam whenever I feel down, hell even when I was brokenhearted. “You bizzles forgot, Slizzle does not give a fuck”

23.  A song that you think everybody should listen to u – Kendrick Lamar

Just listen. No Skip.

“Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated. I place blame on you still, place shame on you still. Feel like you ain't shit, feel like you don't feel”

24.  A song by a band you wish was still together So Fresh, So Clean – OutKast

This is not a band, but I hope they still make stuff together. “Those huge baby eyes, get to runnin' off at they mouth. And tellin' me everything that's on your nasty mind”

25.  A song by an artist no longer living 2009 – Mac Miller

…

“And sometimes, sometimes I wish I took a simpler route. Instead of havin' demons that's as big as my house, mhmm”

26.  A song that makes you want to fall in love Vintage – NIKI

My favourite from Ms. Zefanya. “Wait a minute, my head's a mess. Please don't tell me you like my dress. Why am I wishin' we were wearing less?”

27.  A song that breaks your heart Let Her Go -  6LACK

“It's a shame, how could I be runnin' games?. After all the trials, after everythin'. Wedding ring, I can change your last name. But I can't let 'em get my baby outta pain”

28.  A song by an artist with a voice that you love G.O.M.D – J. Cole (Live Version)

I am part of the people that overrate Mr. Cole…

“So every day I thank the man upstairs. That I ain't you and you ain't me. Get off my dick, whoa”

29.  A song that you remember from your childhood Not Afraid – Eminem

It’s one of the first hip-hop song that I know, and from that day I know Marshall is on of the G.O.A.T, despite this is not his best record.

“Forget the Earth, he's got the urge to pull his dick from the dirt. And fuck the whole universe”

30.  A song that reminds you of yourself RICKY – Denzel Curry

A song about family, that without their advice and support, I am nothing. “My daddy said, "Trust no man but your brothers. And never leave your day ones in the gutter". My daddy said, "Treat young girls like your mother". My mama said, "Trust no ho, use a rubber"

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

Nice nice, only 5 out of 30 are from K-Dot.

Here:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1UqXxXH4qWkgXc2KggPirv

[ithisatanytime]

 GIve me a break, this is like the fifth day in a row i have been up well over 24 hours ok. some of you are gonna hate what i talk about here, but i just want you to acknowledge something, i didnt come to these conclusions because i was personally hateful towards any grouping of people, i came to it by accident while studying biology, a major lifelong passion of mine, straight up, i just wanted to learn about frogs and shit, but i kept running into brick walls as my interest in biology grew broader, why cant i learn about this? why isnt anyone trying to figure this out? the experiment would be easy to set up, and the answer is important so why cant we talk about it?

  at first i thought the answer was politeness, and i probably could have gone my whole life believing that and been much happier as a result, if i didnt have an innate passion for learning about this stuff, but i do, so i didnt. years and years of further study, into what this thing is that i was perceiving, thats pulling a shroud over vast swathes of information, what could it be?

  oh fuck its jewish people. even with the proof right in front of my face, i denied it for two full years, even when proof slapped me in the fucking mouth every single day for two years, i wouldnt except it. the last thing i could cling to was there was no believable method of action, i could hardly believe that jews all met in some shady building somewhere and plotted together about how they were gonna stick it to the gentiles. i could CLEARLY SEE that the people motivating, and funding this massive web of lies were almost always jewish, WAYYY beyond the scope of my confirmation bias, remember at this time i was trying hard not to believe that, anything but fucking THAT! right, i grew up training to join the army someday, i read book after book about world war 2, we were the good guys, hitler was gassing millions of people! we saved them! not to mention a literal lifetime of propaganda depicting people who hold racial views as the villian every time, that got easier to let go of once the heros started being racist as fuck towards white people, and the media and colleges were basically like “kill whitey”, it was a jarring about face. and then i found former professor of psychology at the university of california kevin macdonalds book culture of critique,

  i was already familiar with group identity dynamics, and Macdonald masterfully proofs (over and over, relentlessly) that judaism is a group evolutionary strategy, and on some level its instinctual for them to sabatoge their larger host population. i cant begin to do the book justice, each chapter basically starts with an assertion or a theory or a question, and then its just paragraph after paragraph of proofs with tons of mainstream sources sited. after i finished reading it the first time, i sought out the best argument against his book, and my god it was fucking terrible. the guy pinker accused macdonald of cherry picking, which if you read the book, its a ludicrous charge, macdonald responded and eviscerated this guys “critique” they back and forthed for a while, with pinker sticking mostly to his original erroneous charge, it was literally like he didnt even understand the thesis of the book, it was embarrassing. he later admitted to not having read the book, and then was heavily implicated in the EpSTEIN child molestation ring. you know, the one where mossad paid Epstiein to black male americas rich and powerful by taping them fucking underaged prostitutes he hired? that epstein (man who gives a FUCK if he committed suicide or was murdered!?)   obviously that doesnt have any bearing on his argument i just thought it was funny to mention, if you think im lying look up steven pinker right now.                                                                                                                                    the rest of the “critiques” of kevin macdonalds books arent even worth talking about, i considered just pasting them into this post but its already long as hell and interesting to no one else but me so ill spare you, the short version is they just called him an anti-Semite or a white supremacist, or that he had cooties or whatever the fuck else people call people who are telling the truth and they want them to stop. after that it was over for me, the book just lays it all out, the whole history of it, but more importantly the mechanism of it. jews arent some hive mind (no shit) they are just humans, they arent a monolith, they disagree, but they also do conspire, and its literally in their DNA to do exactly what they are doing here, LIE mainly, but they are only lying so they can steal, which is what they have been doing since long before you were born. again, not all jews, and not all responsible for this fucking mess are jewish, but the mess itself is distinctly jewish, its got a little hat on and everything. our country looks the way it does, is dysfunctional in this very specific way, due to massively disproportionate jewish influence.

[thedegenerateasexual]

chapter 3 opens with stiles lying to coach about scott's whereabouts and listen this dialogue really is spot on like the writing style i don't love but she's got their way of speaking down PAT like their exchange is so funny i wish i could c/p it all

OHHHHH MY GOD FIRST DEREK POV SECTION HELL YEAH THIS IS WHY I'M HERE

teen wolf is over but i still get new officially liscensed derek hale content. this is the last time

mostly this is a recap of the shit kate pulled in 1.05 but also he recalls peter being a prankster with a wicked sense of humor. tbh if only it was that instead of "manipulative dick"

he's still working out bc he wants to be ready to tear her apart ):

ok so he had the same fire dream as scott (despite the fact that he "never dreams" that's pretty interesting idk if i buy it tho) and apparently his woke him up at 3am, "the hour of the wolf" WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN

oh, this is interesting: in his dream, he actually fought the alpha, and while he was thinking "i can't win this" his "wolf brain" (lol) was thinking: "Kill him. Before he kills you. Because he will. He will come at you and at you— / There will be many Alphas, other Alphas; each one you kill will bring another. There will be blood on your hands forever. This one, today; another one, tomorrow. / And on Wolf Moon . . . legions. / Humans will try to destroy you. / If they fail, an Alpha will succeed."

(im copy-pasting from the FFN version to paste long quotes lol i dont wanna retype them. bless whoever decided to do that im only sorry they couldnt get thru all 19 chapters)

anyway this sounds like alpha pack stuff? i would be floored if they had thought that far ahead back in season ONE but theyre doing jackson's parents so maybe they did????

aw, apparently derek has a sleeping bag. this poor guy i hope he's not too uncomfortable ):

OHHH WE'RE GETTING TO THE GOODS we're back to hale fire angst

gonna c/p a long section:

There are a few people I'd like to kill, he thought, but no way would he put himself under the control of an Alpha he didn't even know. And besides, what he'd told Scott was true: as a werewolf, he, Derek, might be a predator, but he wasn't a killer. There was a difference, and anyone who'd been born a werewolf and raised by werewolf parents would know that. Scott had simply been bitten, apparently at random, and if he, Derek, didn't teach him how to deal with it, Scott would wind up either under the control of the Alpha or dead.

Dead, because Derek would kill Scott himself rather than allow him to expose the existence of werewolves to the humans who lived in Beacon Hills. Scott had threatened to tell Chris Argent everything. That was when Derek had taken Scott to see Uncle Peter, make him see that the Argents were ruthless killers. Eleven members of Derek's family had died in the fire that had swept through this house six years ago. Men, women, children. Not all of them werewolves.

And none of them deserving of the hideous, fiery death dealt to them by the Argents.

like...oh my god. derek is truly in a kill or be killed mindset holy shit it's Bad he's like so hellbent on getting revenge!! his anger is using him, not the other way around! like sure  helping him keep control, because he wants it that badly and feels that strongly about it but when you are considering killing sixteen year olds There Is A Problem we do not kill children! that's bad! even the argents SAY they don't kill children and most of them are batshit insane!

would also like to take a moment to appreciate the "i'm a predator but i don't have to be a killer" bit bc that became his anchor in My Fanfiction instead of anger and i love that he says it as early on as s1, repeatedly, what a good choice i made

about kate: "cold-hearted bitch. if ever someone deserved to die..."

and then he immediately growls JUST AT THE THOUGHT OF HER and redoubles his workout routine efforts by switching his push-ups to single-hand so he can be Ready - "or the next time the fire came, it might devour him too"

good GOD we haven't even gotten to the kate angst yet and i'm already feeling #validated this was my exact interpretation of season 1 derek he's a fucking asshole because everybody fucking died and he doesn't want to be next because he's got to avenge them

more interesting werewolf lore via derek's internal monologue: "But that wasn't the entire dream, he reminded himself. I dreamed about other Alphas coming after me. Why? It' s not a crime to kill an Alpha. I'm a werewolf. The way we progress in status is through challenge. If my opponent won't back down, it's within my rights to take what's mine in any way I can. Even death." i...don't think that's how it works really? like by the end of the show alpha are implied to be more like parents and the thing to do is wait for them to pass and have the power be handed down to someone else in the pack like how laura got it after their family died. they're not animals and to people killing another person is a big deal?? i can see why among other reasons they decided this novel wasnt canon

he's so stressed he went out to jog shirtless (an important detail that they felt the need to mention) and now he's monologuing about how even though his life is horrible he wouldn't trade it for the life of a human for ANYTHING i love this born werewolf boy it's just so intricately part of who he is you can't take it out of him anymore than you could take the demon out of jesse he just wouldn't be the same person season 4 must have been so AWFUL for him ))))):

ohhhhhhhhhhh boy. "he used to work off all the extra testosterone by swimming laps. Tthat was how he had met HER"

i read a meta about this and it was not pretty i'm ready to be validated and also very sad

derek smells a real natural not-werewolf somewhere in the forest is it that white one from earlier why is there a wolf in california

haha then derek smelled scott ("spying?!") and got mad and wanted to shift, but he didn't because it's day and you never know who's watching, or plotting. "like i am"

this poor guy he's like so distinctly miserable

i don't really like the STYLE of this writing and i feel like the PLOT is going to be cardboard-thin at best but the CHARACTERS are coming through loud and clear so on that front it's very well done. i actually am enjoying myself a bit which i did not expect

[conorpmaynard]

All Started With a Song Part 7// Conor Maynard

Word Count-  1852

Summary- conor sees your cover and contacts you

A/n- (feel free to change the friends name I was just too lazy to write y/f/n that may times) so sorry it took so long. i was at my friends and couldnt get time to post. heres part 7. i hope you enjoy. im also not going to lie ot you guys, i have no idea when part 8 will be up. this is laos the longest imagine ive written so far!

~~

You groaned as you rolled over in your bed, the loud noise filling your ears. Your alarm was going off. You slowly reached your hand out from under the blankets and shut it off. You were so tired but you knew you needed to get up. It was currently midnight. You needed to pack everything into the car, get to the airport and get everything checked in by 2:30.

You reluctantly got out of your oh-so-warm bed and walked to the guest room.

“Ali, get up. We have to get ready,” you whispered, lighting shaking the brunette.

You walked to the other side of the bed, “Livy, c’mon. We have to get ready.”

“Why did we stay up last night? We’re so dumb,” Alice groaned, sitting up.

“I regret it so much,” Olivia whined, pulling the blanket over her head.

You laughed lightly, grabbing the blanket and ripping it off the bed.

“You bitch! What did I ever do to you?!” Olivia shrieked.

“Get up you lazy bums. I’m making breakfast,” you said walking out to the kitchen.

“By making do you mean getting the cereal and bowls out?” Alice smiled, following you.

“And the milk!” you retorted.

“Hey Liv, can you bring me some Ibuprofen? My head is killing me,” Alice lightly shouted. A few moments later the blonde came out with a bottle of pills.

“Why did we do that last night?” She groaned.

“Because we’re dumb and immature,” you laughed.

“Not so loud please,” Alice whispered, swallowing 2 of the pills.

“Sorry,” you gave her a smile. “Maybe some Cheerios will help.” You passed her a bowl full of her favorite cereal.

“Oh my god,” she moaned as she took a bite. “God is real.”

You and Olivia laughed.

“Did we take any videos from last night?” you asked, handing Olivia her bowl.

“Let me check,” she took a spoonful of cereal while opening her camera roll. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?” you and Alice asked in unison.

“Look,” she had a weird look on her face when she handed you her phone.

You looked at the screen, mouth wide open.

You were stood on your bed, in an old t shirt and booty shorts. You were clearly drunk and very happy.

“Y/n!” shouted Alice. “Give your bae a quick shootout!”

“Yeah!” Olivia giggled, her grip on the phone shaky.

“I don’t have a bae,” you said sadly. “But I will give a shout out. Shout out to Conor Maynard for being a grade A asshole.” You hoisted the bottle of beer in your hand into the air. “You really know how to treat a girl. Hope your mommy’s proud of you.” You kneeled on the bed and got really close to the camera.

“Oh, and I think I might love you…” you said quietly. And then the video ended.

You stood there, not realizing the tears that had shed down your cheeks.

“Oh babe,” Olivia wrapped you in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t feel bad. I was drunk, I said something I didn’t mean.” You lied through your teeth, hoping they would believe you. “We’re going to LA in a few hours, we should be happy!”

“Speaking of that, we should really get ready.”

“Oh crap,” Alice said looking at the clock. “It’s already 12:45.”

You three quickly washed your dishes and rushed to the bathroom. You guys spent the next 45 minutes getting ready, jamming out to music and packing your essentials into your carry ons.

By 1:30 you three were stood at your door, making sure you had everything.

“Carry ons?” you asked.

“Check!”

“Check,” Olivia placed her hands around the straps of her backpack.

“Phone and charger?”

“Got them both,” Alice said phone in hand.

“Where’s your charger?” you asked.

“In my bag.”

“Prove it.”

She sighed, “Yes mom.” She took her backpack off, opening the front pocket to reveal her various chargers.

“Olivia?”

“Check and check, “she had her charger in one hand, phone in the other.

“Makeup?”

“We packed all of it into yours.”

“Oh right. I have the necessities, Liv has the snacks and you have the activities,” you pointed at Alice who nodded.

“Suit case?”

“You can see them!” Olivia chuckled.

“I’m just going through the list we made!”

“Computers?”

“Yes! We both have them! Can we please go now?”

“Yes! Let’s go!!” you squealed, shooing them out the door. You placed the key in the lock and turned it. “Hold on, I need to do one more thing.”

“What?”

You ignored their questioning looks as you walked across the hallway, knocking on the door. The door opened faster than any of you expected.

“Mornin’,” said the very attractive young male who just happened to be shirtless.

“Hey Alex, here’s the key. Feel free to eat any food you find and use my Netflix.” You smiled, handing him the key.

“No problem,” he smiled, leaning against the door for support. “What exactly am I doing again?”

You chuckled, “Just making sure no one breaks in.”

“Right,” he straightening himself. “I can do that.”

“Thanks again,” you reach up and kissed him on the cheek. “I owe you.”

He smirked and closed the door. You turned around to two girls gawking at you.

“What the hell was that?” Olivia asked.

“That’s my neighbor Alex,” you said, grabbing your suitcase and beginning the long walk to the elevator.

“Why have you never mentioned him?” Alice asked, following you.

“Never came up, I guess,” you shrugged, approaching the elevator.

“Can we also talk about how its Alex. As in Jack Maynard’s friend Alex.” Olivia trailed off.

You laughed, pressing the elevator button, “It’s not a big deal guys. He doesn’t really socialize with anyone but the boys.”

“Have you guys hung out?” Alice pestered, following you into the elevator.

“Once, but it was when I first moved it last year. He was nice, but then had to leave cuz Abe needed help with someone. We just never clicked,” you shrugged once more.

“Why are you not freaking out?” Olivia questioned.

“Because I wasn’t going to use him to get to Conor, so why try? Yeah he’s nice and stuff, but I’m not that kind of person. Also he’d find out sooner or later that I’m a fan of him and his best friends.”

“You have a point, but I would have been all over that,” Alice laughed.

“Do you want his number?” you joked.

“You have it?” she gawked.

“No,” you laughed. “I just wanted to see your reaction.”

~~

It took you girls a solid 10 minutes to figure out how to get everything in the car, it was like a giant version of Tetris.

The car ride was full of out-of-tuned singing and dirty looks from people who were stuck at the stoplight next to you.

When you finally got to the airport you parked in the long term parking and walked inside. It took about 20 minutes to get through security. You had to stop and beg the security to let you take the snacks on the 11 hour flight, which they eventually allowed.

You stopped by a Starbucks because you were all running on about 2 hours of sleep.

“Guys look!” Olivia smiled, pointing out the large windows that displayed all the airplanes.

“Let’s get a picture!” you giggled.

“Hi, could you please take a few photos of us?” Alice asked a teenage girl.

“Sure!” she smiled a big toothy smile and took the phone.

You guys took some facing away from the camera, some facing the camera and some sitting on the ground. After thanking the girl, you exchanged pictures.

While you were sat at Gate 4 waiting for your flight to LA, Conor was an absolute mess.

~~

“I fucked up mate,” Conor sighed, spreading across the couch.

“And I don’t feel bad,” Jack said annoyed. Conor did this to himself.

“What do I do?” he asked his younger brother.

“Let her go. Bro you lost her, just accept that.” His brother sighed, pausing the game to give Conor his full attention

“I can’t,” Conor sat up, squeezing a pillow tight to his chest. “I like her a lot.”

“Then why did you ‘forget’?” Jack asked, using the finger quotes when necessary.

“Because I was jealous, I wanted to make her jealous. But I regret it,” he groaned, slamming his head into the pillow.

“If you regret it, why did you unadd her on everything?”

“I don’t know, I was upset that I just let her leave.”

“Bro, you’re so fucking stupid.” And with that Jack got up and went to his room.

Leaving Conor by himself while he was sad was a bad idea. He always did things he would later regret. And this time was no different, he opened his phone and went to Instagram. One lil peek wouldn’t hurt.

Yes it would.

He typed in your username and noticed you had a new picture. The picture was of you and two girls, the same two girls from your previous post, in front of a giant window of what looked like an airport. All three of you were in a squatting position. Alice and Olivia had their fingers pointing at the camera and you were in the middle, hands in prayer formation.

His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he read the caption.

@y/i/n/

spontaneous vacay with my besties? i think yes!

Where were you going? Why? Who were you going to see there? What were you going to do? He clicked the picture and went to the brunette’s, Alice, page. He was even more upset after seeing her post.

@aliiibooo

a spoon full of travel makes the sadness go away

Her picture was off you three, once again in front of the giant window. But this time you were in the middle, one arm wrapped around each girl. Alice was throwing up a peace sign and the blonde, Olivia, had her hand on your face, squishing your cheeks together. He once again clicked on the picture, this time going to Olivia’s page.

Her post was of you three facing away from the camera. Conor couldn’t see your face but he knew you looked beautiful.

@oliviaaaaaa

LA, we’re coming for ya ;)

California? Why were you going to California? What was in California that wasn’t in London?

Lots of things you idiot.

Conor was half tempted to message you about it. But then he got a call.

Incoming call: Anth

Anth? Why was Anth calling him?

“Hey bro, what’s up?” Conor asked, curiosity filling him as he laid back on the couch.

“Before I tell you anything, you have to promise not to get mad or do anything stupid,” Anth said slowly.

“What are you on about?” Conor chuckled.

“Promise me,” there was no laughter in Anth’s voice.

“Okay… I promise. Now tell me what’s going on,” he sat up again.

“Y/n is coming to LA to do a cover with me,” Anth said quickly, fear consuming him.

It took Conor a few seconds to respond but Anth never expected him to say what he did.

[fandomfuckd]

Get to know me better!

i was tagged by @musicstar-chenle. rules: complete the survey and say who tagged you in the beginning. when you are finished you have to tag people to do this survey. have fun and enjoy!! 1: ARE YOU NAMED AFTER SOMEONE : not that I know of but my middle name (Elena) is the Spanish version of my aunt’s name! 2. WHEN IS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED : really recent but I forgot the day. oh wait no I remember it was yesterday. (It was dumb my brother wouldn’t give me the car keys cuz he didn’t trust me even tho my coach said to head back and stay warm cuz I’m injured) 3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING : I like my public-notes handwriting but my private-notes handwriting and handwriting in general sucks 4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH TO EAT :  uhh I normally eat bread and goldfish for lunch so??? 5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS : ALL OF NCT DREAM EVEN THO IM ONLY OLDER THAN JISUNG 6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU : I’d like to think so but probably not 7. DO YOU USE SARCASM : I use bad sarcasm does that count? I don’t normally like being mean tho 8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS : yeah 9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP : FUCK NO 10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF CEREAL : Without milk: Pops corn cereal. With milk: Coco pebbles. With milk and fruit: frosted flakes 11: DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF :most of the time but if I’m lazy then no 12: DO YOU THINK YOU’RE A STRONG PERSON : Physically? Hell no I can bench press 65 at the MOST. Emotionally? Not even did you read number 2? I cry over everything 13: WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOUR :  MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP OR COTTON CANDY 14: WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE : I’m shorter than everyone (I’m 5′0″) so I notice their smiles and chins the most. (If it’s a girl then her boobs oops) 15: RED OR PINK : PINK! but only soft pink 16: WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE PHYSICAL THING YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF : um my teeth, my nose, my height sometimes, my boobs, my feet, my nails, my eczema, my etc. 17: WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING NOW : batman sweats and no shoes 18: WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE : I think it was kinder chocolate? 19: WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW : The Eye by Infinite 20: IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE: baby blue cuz I love that color 21: FAVORITE SMELL: I honestly have no idea? I don’t notice smells all that often. probably choco cookies? 22: WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SPOKE TO ON THE PHONE : does skype count? if it does my study buddies but I don't get calls from people. 23: FAVORITE SPORT TO WATCH : VOLLEYBALL 24: HAIR COLOR : lightish brown 25: EYE COLOR : dark brown 26: DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS : nope 27: FAVORITE FOOD TO EAT : I DON”T LIKE EATING OOPS 28: SCARY MOVIES OR COMEDY : comedies fuck scary shit 29: LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED : I’m watching Aladdin rn 30: WHAT COLOR OF SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING : homemade tie-dye but it’s mostly green 31: SUMMER OR WINTER : I can’t decide cuz theyre both awful like where I live it’s either too fucking hot or freezing 32: HUGS OR KISSES : I’ve never had any type of kisses so idk??? I think I like hugs tho 33: WHAT BOOK ARE YOU CURRENTLY READING : um I read Oedipus in class but I am also reading the Girl on the Train 34: WHO DO YOU MISS RIGHT NOW : IS IT SAD I DON’T MISS ANYONE?? probably my cousin since she actually likes me but idk I’m just an emotional void. 35: WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD : my mouse? did I read this question wrong lol (Update: Addition just told me it’s the pic on the mousepad. It’s a picture of Manila and the beaches in the Philippines) 36: WHAT IS THE LAST TV PROGRAM YOU WATCHED : BLACK MIRROR OMG, also orange is the new black and hwarang 37: WHAT IS THE BEST SOUND : I LOVE VIOLINS AND THE SOUND OF MY CRUSH’S LAUGH AND NCT DREAM SINGING AND MY CATS’ MEOWS 38: ROLLING STONES OR THE BEATLES : the beatles 39: WHAT IS THE FURTHEST YOU HAVE EVER TRAVELED? I’ve been to the Philippines a couple times  40: DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT : I’m really good at retaining information in school (that’s the only reason why I’m in the top 2% at school Istg) uh and i’m really flexible but I think that’s it 41: WHERE WERE YOU BORN : California 42: PEOPLE YOU EXPECT TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS: okay here we go kiddos @prince-nakamoto-yuta , @oohahhsparkly

[anomalagous]

lc’s ongoing long-ass list of what the fuck, teen wolf, and other sundry E606:Ghosted edition.

scott getting a little tiny bit snarly at the sheriff for not believing~~ in stiles gives me life

this old-ass map not only puts beacon hills on top of a real life place called scotty place which still makes me laugh, but also substantially more north and eastward than i originally estimated.

why the fuck didnt naziwolf just get the fuck outta bh?

why did he choose to stay and teach high school of all things?

california requires an 18 month accreditation course and a certain GPA of teachers who do not have an education degree, i know this from direct experience. its been three months since naziwolf busted out of his bacta tank, so what the fuck

if he forged his credentials, how

when

when did he actually learn all of the post WW2 physics and electromagnetics things he clearly genuinely knows and has a genuine interest in?

did the dread doctors read him bedtime stories from their science journals?

if so, what the fuck

i guess if youre an alpha werewolf you can sleep in the backseat with no seatbelt and its not a big deal if you crash

good job on malia being the driver and not crashing them im proud of her

reading the date of the canaan abduction in the standard american way it was april 8th, 1987, which cant be a coincidence given that’s stiles birthday (albeit pre-stiles)

if canaan has been abandoned for 30 years, who has been cutting these obviously not overgrown lawns and trimming these obviously not overgrown accent shubberies

why isnt that flag beat up or torn in any way?

kudos on giving that convertible the old 80s style california plates but why arent any of the windows on any of the cars busted out? no flat tires? no rust or missing doors?

also that shot of the ‘town’ where there was more substantial damage looked fake as hell and the crosswalk was proceeding at the wrong angle and i cant unsee it.

why is there still power running to these street lamps?

for that matter who has their street lamps scheduled to turn on in the middle of the day?

was that block party banner over the street lettered on both sides? it reads properly no matter what side youre looking at, which seems weird.

why is there blood on the carousel? was that explained? we’ve never seen the ghost riders’ gun draw blood that i can recall

im not even sure we’ve really seen their whips draw blood per se and certainly it wouldn’t have caused that kind of blood stain

also why is the blood still wet and red 30 years later? why wasn’t that newspaper rotted out? either time impacted this town to make it shitty as hell or it didn’t, pick one, you cannot have both. it still rains enough in california to totally disintegrate a newspaper in thirty years.

how the fuck did that carousel function even that tiny bit after 30 years in the elements?

why did melissa have to sneak chris argent around, couldnt he have just declined the operation against medical advice?

also good to see scott got his utter inability to lie from his mom

even if malia isnt wearing 100% stiles’ void-hoodie how could the costume department have thought for a minute we wouldnt have thought that was the void hoodie?

malia having a hallucination of theo in the same episode he comes back in for real seemed both rushed and entirely unnecessary.

in fact these hallucinations seemed wholesale unnecessary and neither scott nor malia deserved that nonsense

were all of these dead leaves already on location or did some poor asshole have to ship them in and then ship them out again

come to think of it, at first i was really excited to see coral/eucalyptus trees as they are actually trees that are in california (as opposed to the type of oak the nemeton is, which is distinctly Not a type of tree in california) but then i realized those are Southern California Trees and if beacon hills (and canaan) are that far north and close to the oregon border, the trees should be way more pines and evergreens and not coral or eucalyptus or ... any deserty tree, really.

seriously were these hallucinations just to show malia can feel sad too?

malia was wearing really subtle gold eyeshadow earlier. now it’s dark shadowing up to her browbone. does being a werecoyote also mean being able to shift your makeup at will? cause thats cool

do little girls seriously still play with baby dolls while hitting their first strides of puberty? im beginning to think i was never actually a little girl.

how much younger than malia was kylie supposed to be? bc she looks like 12 here but malia was like... 10 when the desert wolf murdered her family, right? was SHE the younger sister??

teen wolf shamelessly reusing shots with new filters on them like never before. this ain’t even the fifth time i’ve caught them doing this, this season, and i’ve literally never seen them do it in any of the other seasons.

im not sure anybody told kylie’s actress she wasnt gonna get to make out with shelley

how do werecreatures get piercings? or were her ears pierced first before the change?

why does anyone let liam make any decisions, ever?

i do not get why everyone finds naziwolf so hot

seriously i have a little tree-bush exactly like this right outside my door/garage and that shit is wild and untamed in just a month of no trimming in 30 years it would not have that nice slender shape anymore

also trees being choked to death by kudzu or whatever all these vines are dont look that healthy

is there even kudzu in california??? ive never seen so many vines in all my 10 years of living here.

the first house scott goes in theres like no tv in the living room but there is one chair (with no dining table) all alone in the dining room area, which just looks sad.

oh sorry two chairs set up in what was clearly the worlds most melancholy staring contest.

my dentist used to have that exact sailboat wallpaper trim around the top of his exam rooms.

scotts bullying a door.

have melissa and chris argent actually told the pack about the head-biting yet bc i feel like they should know

i think more people have asked scott if he’s okay in this episode than in the last three seasons, which is sad bc it’s basically just lydia and malia that do it.

that one house has some brutal earthquake damage in its exterior wall.

poseys microexpressions are so woefully underrated, he really is brilliant.

i have more grey hair than jr bourne and that makes me really angry

i like that they’re doing alchemy with druidic compounds/hedgemagic/whatever you want to call it more than i could possibly express.

why is there a porch loveseat on the step up to this one house but that FLAG IS ENTIRELY INTACT?

how convenient that all three of them were looking at that window when lenore decided to fuck with the drapery.

that said scott’s resultant HOLY SHIT?!?? face is amazing

how has lenore been surviving in this town, does she not need water, electric, heat, groceries? where did the lemons for the lemonade come from?

all this wood paneling is the most 70s thing i have ever seen in my life

i appreciate the little cast iron redwood decoration with the ‘m’ on the bottom of it.

everything!! in!! this!! house!! is!! brown!!

that piano as a busted af bass key there.

i feel like i’ve seen that other metal flower/leaf decor before. the new version of the stilinski house, maybe?

lenore has an intimidatingly large smile and i feel like that as an intentional casting choice

how come malia and scott couldnt hear her heartbeat after scott explicitly called out that there were no heartbeats? or for that matter not hear that caleb also didn’t have one? (presumably.)

im not 100% sure but i think malia is holding scott’s hand when they enter the dining room area of lenore’s house, which is adorable so i accept no other reality now.

i honestly feel really bad for lenore.

i would say the fisheye lens is s6′s slo mo but the slo mo didnt go anywhere

i dont know if its supposed to be fancy or artisinal or whatever you called that in the 80s but dont put green shit in your lemonade, green shit does not belong in your lemonade. lemons. sugar. water. it isn’t hard.

malia like chugs a good half of her glass at once, but when she sets it back down it is more full than any of the other glasses. i prefer to think she just faked drinking it to try and gain lenore’s trust than it’s a continuity error from the props department.

when lenore starts using her banshee powers to shake the house, it also magically converts the lemonade into water.

lenore has a pair of decorative ducks on her wall but they appear to be two male mallard ducks, so. gay duck decor.

so when does lydia get to have telekinesis?

i dont think im a very big fan of how angela harvey handles scott.

malia did NOT make a fist like she was really committing to trying to punch out that window.

seriously scotts the alpha he doesnt need lydia to give him permission to do things scott thinks need to be done

that being said scott going into the basement with a creepy kid when youre obviously in some kind of horror movie trope was stupid

the cameras they used for the senior pack team were super blurry anytime anyone moved even the littlest bit, its so annoying.

scott barely being tall enough to reach this tiny-ass basement window is endearing to me

there is no way a vhs tape that wet would run. i remember vhs tapes. they were not sturdy.

i feel like we used to have the same VCR in my parents’ room tho

also what the hell camcorder did they record this on that put it straight on VCR, camcorders in the 80s had weird little small VCR tapes you had to put in a converter. that was just a standard VCR tape.

also why are there jumpcuts in the home video? did somebody cut the original footage and THEN put it on a standard VCR tape?  how much fucking work was THAT??

caleb goes from 0 to 100 on the creepy poltergeist scale real quick

well okay maybe from like 40 to 100

banshee duel yessssss

literally why would noshiko do this after she saw what happened with the nogitsune

not that i necessarily think theo is as dangerous as the nogitsune but he is well bad enough

look at this worthless white boy doing this shit against all the advice of the woc around him

why does the sword do this, i thought the power was in kira and not the sword

if the power is in the sword why couldnt noshiko fix her own damn blade

look at this other worthless white boy even more worthless than the first

that looks like melissa is putting like grout on chris’ injury that does not look comfortable

oh look hes screaming imma guess it was not in fact comfortable

gratuitous jr bourne fanservice

awwww theyre holding haaaaands again

how did this kid get on the stairs the last time we saw him he was by the tv, why did scott and malia let him herd him like this

i appreciate malia’s willingness to beat up a kid poltergeist immensely

of the pictures on caleb’s walls, many are pictures of insects. one is a blue crab. one says ‘guten’ on it, which somehow entertains me a lot.

this is the second time this episode has tried to make me scared of carousel horses

the vhs footage loops while no one is attending to it which is not how vhs tapes work

malia is such a treasure

that being said having nearly drowned twice in my childhood this whole drowning-on-dry-land conceit is not super great for me

screencapping this is so gross

i love lydia’s fierce banshee scream face

so the blood was on the carousel before the wild hunt attack, as we see in lydia’s vision. SO WHY IS IT THERE??

THERE ARE KIDS RIDING ON THIS CAROUSEL WHILE SOME OF THE HORSES ARE BLOODY

poor skateboard bro couldnt even take his skateboard like rude wild hunt

i feel like there’s a lot more ghost riders here than there are in beacon hills. maybe the ghost riders just come for particular towns and the ones in bh are actually like... cora isaac and danny.

its amazing how much younger a good foundation can maybe somebody look

did liam SERIOUSLY just tell theo he can kill whoever he wants? did i hear that right? bc that is a TERRIBLE thing to tell theo, who has ALREADY KILLED A LOT OF PEOPLE, even if what you meant was ‘dont kill us you need us’.

i cant believe we got this cheap knockoff as an excuse to not have kira and then they didnt even let him have the powers he needed to do the job

otoh watching his ass get blasted back into the tunnels was satisfying

literally nobody cares if youre okay theo you murderous fuck

i wonder how many times scott had someone steadying him telling HIM he has to breathe like hes doing for malia right here

i should really keep a tally of how many times scott does stiles’ lizard tongue thing while stiles is gone

this is gross of me to think while the character is basically drowning but hey now i know what scott looks like with his bottom lip all wet and covered in somewhat translucent stretchy goo--jizz. okay. it looks like jizz.

scott mccall nearly drowns on dry land after a lifetime of severe asthma and the first thing he does after is ask if malia is ok

luckily THIS time she asks if HES okay to but jeez

he looks so shocked and confused to be asked extra jeez

more scolia handholding, this time while fleeing danger

i was literally three in 1987 and i still have more grey hair than lenore who was demonstrably an adult in 1987 I AM VERY ANGRY

that being said i realized why caleb here’s clothing was bothering me so much. nobody had shorts that long in the 80s. everybody wore short as hell shorts in the 80s. it was thighs everywhere.

these stupid motherfuckers taking theo to scott’s HOME and putting him in scott’s SAFE SPACE without even WARNING HIM oh my GOD

those better not also be scott’s CLOTHES

ok but WHY are the wild hunt trapped? did they BRING the northern lights or is the northern lights related to what’s trapping them?

excuse me but WHEN did lydia see anything related to what happens to people after the wild hunt takes them and why didnt we get to see it too?

seriously its like if scott is thinking of stiles then lizard blep

im so mad at liam for bringing theo back and putting him in scotts house i cant even see straight

and i just know that this anger that scott is being allowed will be it

and in a week or two itll be working with theo like nothing ever happened

im honestly shocked he even got this much

he even got undercut there by malias (also justified) rage

cool that the morrigan got a namedrop but i dont trust them with that story eitherrrrr

man let me tell you if this was martin and not scott and somehow he had been murdered and resurrected and was then confronted with his murderer in his pack house that murderer would not fucking leave alive

im still kind of mad that this season brought claudia back to life just to make her so sketch and make me kind of hate her, i didnt want to hate her

oh okay its a different weird leaf decor piece than the other one

oh yeah noah OKAY NOW youre starting to believe BUDDY you have faith issues