#like excUSE ME don't put that gARBAGE inside you

[sansgout]

vince has a surprisingly . . . nurturing side to him, in the right circumstances

i'm not saying he's the babying type he's not going to coddle you or anything like that, but

if he cares about you? he will take care of you

simple things, really; he's like that mom friend who carries around an entire supply of essentials in her purse, yknow?

he'll probably sigh dramatically as he goes out of his way to help you, but ヽ(ヅ)ノ it means something that he goes out of his way at all

[spookyrea]

Something About Us

You're stuck waiting for the bus in a torrential downpour. Conrad offers to keep you company (and later, to warm you up).

(part of a larger series of vignettes about navigating life, love, and monsters with one James Conrad.)

Warnings: none! | read it on AO3 here

You stand under the lab’s narrow awning, watching a tropical storm batter the pavement. The wind carries the rain at an angle, whipping mud puddles into a thick mist that leaves your legs prickling uncomfortably with the cold. You had the forethought to wear a jacket but your umbrella lies inside, useless, at the bottom of a garbage can, decommissioned by a fatal gust earlier this morning.

“Dreadful weather, isn’t it?” A warm voice and an even warmer body joins you under the awning. Whatever James Conrad is doing in the lab is beyond you – he’s not a researcher, nor a tech, so outside of delivering mission reports he has little reason to be on this end of the Monarch campus.

That hasn’t stopped him from becoming a constant in your day-to-day life, though. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs. “Had to get my shots.”

“Right.” It’s a lie – more likely that he’s spent the afternoon being briefed on some top secret reconnaissance endeavour that’s above even your clearance level.

“Are you waiting for the bus?” He curls just that bit closer, his voice calculatedly casual. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him against your arm, his body half turned so that you are parallel to his underbelly, to the space where his jacket is wide open and vulnerable to the chill. It’s a space just big enough for you to slot in, if you wanted. 

“Yep.” The researchers’ barracks are within walking distance, technically, but they’re at the very edge of the base, farther than any of the other accommodations from the central hub. “Which means I have to sit,” you nod toward the lone bench on the side of the road, “right there.”

The lab door opens; instead of stepping away to let them through, Conrad crowds up into your space, so you’re pressed shoulder-to-chest, leaving just enough room for the janitor to slip by on his way to the barracks. He’s appropriately dressed for the weather, at least, in a raincoat and hat, and heads off in the opposite direction toward the pub.

“I could share,” Conrad says, unfolding his umbrella, “as long as you promise to behave.”

“Behave?”

“Mhm.”

“You ask too much of me,” you say, though you don’t deny yourself the pleasure of looping your arm through his as you start toward the bench.

It’s not a very large umbrella so you both have to huddle to stay under it. In weather such as this, though, it’s nearly useless; the rain seems to come at you from every angle, stirred up by the wind, and the asphalt swims with  a couple inches of water. You regret wearing suede shoes – there’s no way you’ll get these stains out.

“It was a typing day, then?”

“Hmm?”

Conrad nods at your calves, now shiny with rainwater. “You’re wearing a skirt. You don't wear skirts in the lab.”

“Oh.” Something warm thrills in your chest at the knowledge that he’s taken notice. “Yes. Reports to write. Forms to sign. Any excuse to dress up, you know…”

“So the day hasn’t been a complete write off. Since you got to… dress up.”

It’s not necessarily vanity – you just like the feeling of putting yourself together in the morning. Of matching your shoes to your hat, or coordinating your lipstick with your mood. Some of the techs and more than a few of the privates make fun of you for it, jeeringly calling you nicknames like Scientist Barbie or Private Monroe. Even those who are nicer about it have begun calling you ‘ doll’ and, in true military fashion, the nickname is near-permanent.

“I did.” A jeep rolls by and you have to pull your feet back to avoid getting splashed. “And now I’m kind of regretting it.”

“Oh come on, doll. It’s just a bit of rain.”

You don’t mind when Conrad calls you doll. His accent curls it a little, makes it less leering and more affectionate. He gets this look to his eyes, a puppy-dog kind of expression you’re glad hasn’t been carved away by the horrors Monarch subjects you to every day.

“You’re not going out tonight? Weaver thought the two of you would make good money destroying those transplant recruits, the ones from the base off the coast of British Columbia.”

“Not tonight. Figured I would give someone else the chance to win for once.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Thoughtful? No, no – I’m stoic, remember? Rugged. You can’t slander my name like that. I just want to bide my time to make them complacent.”

You laugh; the look Conrad shoots you is unimpressed, his mouth turned down in a pout, but you can see the slightest curl of amusement behind his eyes. “Sorry,” your fingers wander with a mind of their own, pushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead. “It’s just hard to take you seriously when you’re all wet.”

“It’s raining,” he deadpans. “You’re wet. We’re both wet. ‘Wet’ is neutral at this point.”

The wind howls as if summoned, syphoning the rain into the collar of your blouse. Your nylons are soaked through, the hem of your skirt so saturated that it clings to your calves. His shirt is equally wet, slippery under your hand when you lean into his chest to muffle another laugh. Conrad tucks himself closer still, scooting up the bench so that you are half wrapped up in the circle of his arms, as if he means to shield you from the rain with his body instead. His left hand, the one not holding the umbrella, threads through one of yours and draws it under the lapel of his jacket, tight to the space just under his heart.

The bus’s headlights cut through the rain a little ways ahead. A twinge of disappointment stirs in your belly as it approaches. As cold and wet as you are, there is something nice about being this entangled.

Conrad ushers you to your feet under the pretence of keeping you under the umbrella, his hand riding low on your back, just shy of friendly territory. You don’t think it’s intentional, though – you suspect that, like yourself, he is an audience to his own body, watching it respond to yours unconsciously.

The inside of the bus is superheated compared to the weather outside. You’re the only passengers – it’s a weekend, so everyone is probably already in bed or playing pool at the base pub. You lead Conrad to the very back of the bus by his index finger, looped around your pinky. You think it’s too intimate, to try and hold his hand outright, so you settle for this, if only for the excuse to keep touching him.

A cassette tape soothes through the bus’s radio; new records and a decent radio signal are nearly impossible to come by on the base, meaning your only lifeline to pop culture comes in the form of your twice-monthly trips off base and the occasional recon mission abroad. This tape is probably a couple years old; you don’t recognize the voice or melody.

Water pools under the umbrella where it lies between Conrad’s feet, spilling out along the grooves in the bus’s rubber floor. You shift in your seat and Conrad’s knee is quick to follow yours, so he never loses the weight of you against his leg. “I’m dreaming of a hot shower right now,” you sigh. “Dry clothes – what a luxury. When I get back state-side I’m moving to the desert where I’ll never be this damp again.”

“Area 51, then?”

“No. Somewhere completely, utterly boring. Adjunct professor, maybe. University of Arizona.”

“Hmm. I’m not convinced. I give you three months before you’re crawling back to the jungle to take more of those little smears or slices or whatever they’re called.”

“I would be a great professor, thank you very much.”

“Of course you would.” His fingers trail under your sleeve, admiring the skin over your pulse point. “You’d have a full class every semester, I reckon.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. Though the demographic might be a little skewed.”

“Ah. Business students looking for an easy grade.”

He laughs. “Not quite. I was thinking something along the lines of teenage boys making excuses to come to your office hours. At least, I would, um… I, well…”

“Oh.” The bus rocks as it eases over a speedbump. Conrad winces, looking a little regretful at his revealing joke. It’s maybe the most blatant he’s ever been with his affections for you. You imagine for a smooth talker like himself, it must be difficult to be tongue-tied.

Taking pity, you try to move on. “The hot shower might be a pipe dream at this point. I’ll be lucky if the water is lukewarm in the barracks.”

His shoulder bumps yours when he sinks backward into his seat. “A perk of being so indispensable: private bathroom.”

“Ugh! I hate you right now. I actually really do.”

“The hot water runs out quickly, if it makes you feel better.”

“Well if you’re only one man, that’s not an issue. Twenty, all in one bunk… The stuff of nightmares.”

Neither of you acknowledges the fact that you work with real, living nightmares on a daily basis. Nightmares with teeth and acid drool. Instead, you trace the side seam of his jeans with your pinky finger.

The bus groan under the weight of the storm outside as the first flash of lightning tears through the sky.

Conrad watches you watch him. An understanding yawns in the narrowing space between you, grown heavy and swollen with a latent charge that needles your skin. Your whole body thrums; for all the discomfort - the tight chest, the hammering heart - you think you'll find relief in him, in his mouth, like a lightning rod. 

“You could always join me,” he says slowly.

“Mhm,” you mumble. “I could.”

“It’s… and after, with two bodies in one bed… much warmer than the barracks.”

“Much.”

“Don’t even need to worry about dry clothes.” His nose brushes your cheek.

“Because we won’t be wearing any.”

“Exactly.”

The bus bounces off a pothole. The two of you collide inelegantly, shoulders and chins bashing, fingers scrabbling in each others’ clothes as you both nearly slide out of your seats. It shocks you both into a proper seated position, backs ramrod straight, eyes forward, your hands tangled in a knot.

You roll to a stop outside of the private quarters – Conrad’s stop. Yours is two more away at the end of the loop. 

“The offer still stands,” he says gruffly, not looking at you. He peels himself off the velour seat slowly, making a show of shaking out his coat.

“Don’t forget your umbrella.”

He waves it away. The spell over you seems to have been broken; there is a significant arch to his shoulders that exudes displeasure. “You’ll need it. It’s a longer walk to the barracks from the bus stop than it is here.”

He climbs off the bus, leaving you reeling and a little lonely. You watch him trudge through the rain toward the private lodging complex where the higher-ranked staff live. Not quite it's own house – closer to a dormitory than anything – but he gets his own room and bed.

It’s a short journey to the next stop, only a couple minutes’ drive, and you spend it stewing. These barracks are for the soldiers and labourers; there’s a gravel path connecting their courtyard to the private quarters’. The lab staff’s housing has no such thing – it was built almost as an afterthought, right against the edge of the bluff.

You descend from the bus and start the walk back toward the private housing.

You find Conrad’s name on the list outside his building and dial him. The intercom rings and rings and rings, so long that you start to get nervous and steel yourself for what is sure to be a dreadful walk back.

His voice is rough, even through the tiny speaker. “Hello?”

“I–” You what? You find yourself at a loss for an answer. “We weren’t done talking.”

“Doll? Jesus, one–” the intercom cuts out. You shuffle your weight from one foot to the other, your hands gone cold and numb.

Conrad is wearing a dry shirt and a pair of gingham-print boxers, and his hair stands up at awkward angles, half-dry already. “Did you walk?”

“Only one stop.”

“Come inside you silly thing.” He corrals you through the front door and down the hall, toward his room. You’re not sure if this housing is co-ed – despite the recent push to allow women equal employment, military organisations (particularly private ones) tend to be quite exclusionary – so you try to keep your voice low, lest you get caught.

“Take your jacket off. Take everything off, actually, you’re going to freeze to death.”

You laugh. Your jacket joins his over the back of a chair – standard issue, plain teakwood beside a matching desk. “I thought that was what the shower was for.”

“Tell me you didn't just come here for a shower.”

“No. I was promised a warm bed, too.”

His eyes soften just the faintest bit. “Ah, yes. Understandable.”

His fingers start on the top button of your blouse, watching your face for any signs of reticence. “Come along, little doll,” he murmurs, drawing you backward toward the ensuite. “Let’s get you warm.”

It only occurs to you that you left his umbrella on the bus the next morning.

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 17

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Oystein had finally settled into his new apartment and had just gotten off the phone with his dad about the last payment for the record shop. He had decided to step away from focusing on making the next record to follow another one of his passions. Helvete was his new baby and his record label would be working out of the shop to expand the Black Metal genre to as many people as he possibly could.

He sat at his typewriter and placed the photo Y/n had left him with the day they last spoke on the desk to the left. He kept the old photo of himself, Y/n and Pelle just next to that one. The day she slugged him and wrote him off, she probably would have been surprised to know that he kept that photo in the inside pocket of his jacket.

He stared at the photo for a few moments before putting a piece of paper into the type writer.

"Y/n, Please read what I have to say before you toss this into the garbage. I know it's selfish of me to ask for anymore of your time but you have to know that what we had, in the beginning, that was real. All of the moments we shared where I could be myself with you- if I could have lived in those moments again, I wouldn't change a thing. You were right though, we were always doomed to fail. Our paths are just too different. I want to apologize for how I treated you the night you came to the show. I know the first time I watched Dea-"

Oystein pulls a bit of white out from the drawer and covers the beginning of his name before resuming.

"I know the first time I watched Pelle cut his arms, it was fucked up. I had no idea what to do or how to respond to that. Honestly, I've never really experienced anything like that before Pelle. I knew I couldn't let him know that because I feared it would only make him retreat more. Your response to it was normal and I'm sorry I treated you like it wasn't. I also want to apologize for how I reacted to you in the bar that night. I can't pretend I wasn't caught off guard by the guy you walked in with but that is no excuse for how I came at you. In the time that I spent not hearing your voice or seeing your face, I tried to block out all the things you made me feel. I tried to chalk it up to us being too different or this life scaring you away but that day after Pelle killed himself...I know I fucked up Y/n. I regret everything I've ever said or done that has hurt you even for a second because the only hurt you ever caused me was my own fault."

Oystein sat back in the chair, reading over what he had already written and felt incredibly vulnerable. A part of him really hopes she just trashes the letter and doesn't even bother reading it.

"I've decided to take a step back to focus more on other passions. I have started my own record label and will be operating it out of that corner shop down from Hammed's shop. I know you probably think I've done this to torment you but I've had my eye on that store for years. I want to take the creation of Black Metal and show people what it can truly be. Not all that extra, commercialized bullshit that people think it is now. I've always wanted to do this but I want to show people what we worked so hard on, what Pelle and I worked so hard on."

Oystein looked at the photo again and wished Pelle could have been here for the birth of Helvete. He thinks that a safe haven where he would never be alone is something that could have saved him.

"I know I'm just saying a lot of things that don't really mean shit to you but you were a big part of what kept me believing in myself. I hope maybe you'll give it a second chance and stop by the shop. I would love for you to see what I've created and give you a new look at what I love so much instead of wishing for its demise. I know it will never be what it was before but I feel a piece of me will always be tethered to wanting what could have been between us."

Oystein hated everything he wrote almost immediately but he couldn't just keep starting over. He wanted to send this letter before the shop actually opened in case she decided to show up and put him on blast.

"I know you'll probably always hate me and I understand why you do. I just hope you'll find a small place for me in your heart to at least try and be a better person in your eyes. Please, give me a chance to prove to you that I'm not the heartless monster you think I am."

He read it one last time before pulling it from the typewriter and signing the bottom of it. He would never admit that he actually followed her home one night just to have her address to send her this letter. He would take that to the grave. He knew this was a bad idea but he desperately needed something to keep him grounded. The nightmares he had after Pelle were unbearable. He had never been afraid of dwelling in the darkness until Pelle killed himself. Now he was worried he would sink into the darkness never to be found again. He wanted Y/n to be the one who kept him from losing himself entirely.

yours, Øystein 

[man-moth-hook-hand]

Welcome to My Nightmare Ch. 5

A/N: I didn't mean for this to take a whole month, but I was confused on what direction to drive the story. I wanted to introduce the boys earlier, but I wanted to make it believe so that the rest of the story made sense. I hope you like it! :) and don't worry, some spice might be coming in the next chapet ;)

Masterlist

Chapter Five: Always Something There to Remind Me

 “So, who are you riding with?” Paul winked at me.

I looked at one of the other boys, a blonde, like Paul. This one didn’t have huge hair, and instead sported curls framing his statue-like face. He didn’t move, exactly like a statue. Next to him was the dark haired man spying on me and Adam. Under eye bags, no shirt, a weird hodge podge of items for an excuse of a necklace, and to tie it all in a child around maybe nine or ten clinging to him. I didn’t want to ride with the man in a trenchcoat, he looked like he had something underneath there. Thankfully, the girl decided to ride with him.

“I suppose you.” I said to Paul which earned a few laughs from the other men. It felt like I was the world and they were the four horsemen of the apocalypse, waiting to destroy my mind and body. I climbed on the back of Paul’s bike and tried to make myself comfortable. It was a little difficult since he was much taller and had a rat’s nest for hair. 

Paul yelled and I felt myself surge backwards. I tightened my grip on Paul so as to not fall off. I had a feeling he wouldn't exactly stop right away if I fell. The other boys yelled like a pack of wolves to wherever we were going. The ride wasn’t exactly the smoothest, I learned that Paul liked to ride over the bigger dunes as they made him fly into the air. It also flung sand into my eyes causing me to be blind the entire trip.

Once we had stopped moving, I figured it was safe enough to wipe the sand from my eyes. I looked like a mess, or I thought I did. My hair felt out of place, tears formed from the irritation around my eyes, and snot trailed around me. I truly feel like a piece of garbage.

 I stared at these boys, then at me, then the girl. These boys mixed together whatever clothing they could find, yet hers were cohesive. I could tell the boys didn’t do anything to themselves, at least she put in some effort. I found myself feeling guilty for looking worse. I realized that these boys didn’t look any better, just that they were accepted to look bad, even as the rejects they were. The girl, even though a reject by association, still adorned herself in flowy skirts and jewels.

“Hey!” Paul snapped his fingers in my face. “You there?”

“Yeah,” I stuttered, “Just lost in thought.” My mind hadn’t really been able to focus on what was happening at the moment, and instead chose to ramble over something rather not important. Maybe I just needed to sleep. I had a feeling I would be sleeping forever after this visit.

“Let me help you.” Paul fixed my hair as best as he could, then offered a bandana out of his jacket pocket as a peace offering for the ride. “Better?” He asked, I took the bandana in reply. I followed them to a thin, wooden staircase that descended into the depths below. I felt like I was going to break the wooden steps, yet everybody else had no problem walking on the rickey death traps.

I felt relief once we reached the end. It quickly ended once I saw what was before me. A cave, they literally were taking me to a cave to die. How dignified. Once reaching the inside of the cave, I noticed that it was much more civilized. These boys had decorated the inside with fishing lures, graffiti on the ceiling, shiny things I couldn’t identify, and enough candles to have a ritual. It was oddly marveling. It was beautiful in a trashy way. Like Ariel decorating her cave of wonders.

“Sit.” The white haired man demanded, “Where ever you like.” He purposely fell into a wheelchair behind him.

“Next to me?” The one with the weird jacked suggested. “My name is Marko by the way.”

“That’s a nice name.” I sat next to him, in between Michael and the trench coat. “I’m (Y/N)” I stuck out my hand.

“That’s also a nice name,” he smiled, “That’s David, Dwayne, Laddie, and Star.” He pointed to everyone, respectively.

“Those are nice names.” I said.

“You always repeat everything you say?” Marko joked with me.

“No, Sorry. I’m just really tired. I had a bad dream.” I explained. Paul chuckeled.

“So, Michael, you didn’t tell us about your sister.” David interrogated him.

“I don’t have a sister.” Michael laughed.

“Your little lady friend?” David teased.

Michael nervously glanced at Star. I guess she was under the impression I was Michael’s Girlfriend. “No, Uh. . . My mom picked her up on the side of the road.”

David made a noise of conformation. “You hungry, (Y/N)?” he asked me.

“Uh, um.”

“Marko, why don’t you get some Chinese?” David said, it earned a laugh from the rest of the boys.

He came back much quicker than I thought he would’ve. Marko, the curly haired man with what seems like a thrift store for a jacket, handed me a white carton with some red Chinese building on it. I opened it with hesitation, wondering if there was some sick joke to be played. It didn’t seem like it would be out of character for these boys. Rice. Just rice. Just rice? Yes, just rice.

“How are those maggots?” David gestured towards Michael.

Michael spat out the rice onto the floor as if it really were maggots. This earned a bout of laughter from the crowd.

“No hard feelings?” David handed Michael another container. “How are your maggots (Y/N)?”

I looked down into the carton to see wriggling fly larva. A minute ago it had been rice. Panic had begun to arise in my throat. I looked at the gaggle of men in front of me, they awaited an answer. I focused back on the rice – maggots, I mean. I didn't have a fork. I was delirious and tired. I scooped some of the mystery food in between my fingers and devoured what pointless lives they had. I imagined someone doing the same for me. Hopefully the rice-maggots didn’t feel pain. They weren't even maggots anyway, just rice.

They continued to stare at me. The maggots had reformed magically into rice again. I knew I was tired. Of course I was. I’m just paranoid.

“So it was good.” David plainly said. He then whispered something to Marko, in response he brought a Halloween decoration bottle full of red liquid. Or perhaps the bottle made it look red.

Star moved behind Michael immediately. David prompted Michael to drink some of the mystery fluid. Star inturn pleaded but I don’t think Michael listened. The boys hollered in delight at whatever Michael had done, which was probably drink from the mystery liquid.

I continued to scoop rice into my mouth. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes. Snot threatened to gush from my nostrils. I abruptly stood up, drawing attention to myself. I began to make my way out of the cave, robotically, almost slipping on the spilled rice. I don’t remember if they called or if it was my imagination.

I must’ve walked my way home. I don’t even remember getting into bed, obvious by my unchanged clothes. Thank god I didn’t work today, I would've been 4 hours late. The house was quiet, save for Sam playing with Nanook in the yard. I flipped over onto my back and closed my eyes, listening to the sounds around me.

Nanook’s bark. The silence of the house. A clock ticking somewhere. The old man’s footsteps creaking up to a room. 

The warm water from the shower, paired with the darkness, felt oddly comforting since I had developed a fear of the dark. I washed every part of me I could think of. I felt dirty, tainted even, since being around those boys. Something was off about them, I couldn't tell for sure. Maybe I should take this time to relax and just take care of myself. I had been neglecting myself for sure. 

I decided to head my way into Michael’s room, perhaps he would have answers about last night. He was conveniently asleep when I opened the door. As I made my way back into my room, the ringing of the phone paired with Sam’s yelling got my attention. 

“Michael!” he shouted, “Mom’s on the phone for you!” 

I poorly maneuvered my way back into the threshold of Michael’s room. As I opened the door, I caught the brothers arguing about sunglasses or something stupid. 

“-Sam is always alone. It’s been a long time since someone’s invited me to dinner. I’d like to go.” Lucy begged Michael. 

“Ok, mom.” Michael softly replied. 

“I don’t need a babysitter, Mike.” Sam was utterly insulted at the fact that he needed to be supervised. 

“Sammy, it’s not my choice to watch you.” Michael noticed me in the doorway. “What?”

“Can I talk to you? Privately?” I motioned to Sam to leave.

 “Ew!” Sam responded while making kissy faces on his way out. 

“Um,” I began. This was more nerve racking than I thought. “What happened last night? I kinda remember, but after I left. . . I don’t know. I can’t really remember anything.”

“Well. . . I drank their booze, you left, and we just kinda hung out.” He explained. 

“Oh, so nothing bad happened?” 

Micahel shot me a confused look. “Bad?”

“Yeah, bad. I kinda had been having some nightmares I guess, and I just thought. . . maybe.” I shook my head. “It’s nothing important.”

“Maybe you’re paranoid. Did you get any sleep?” Michael says. 

“No. Did you?” I looked at him with pity. 

“Nah.” 

/|\^._.^/|\

I shouldn’t be doing this. I had found myself in the midst of the Boardwalk in hopes to find the men from last night. It was surprisingly difficult considering how weird they looked last night. I had hoped Paul was here, even if he probably wasn’t safe anymore. 

A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind. I ducked and spun around, knocking into a few pedestrians behind me. I landed a punch into the man’s face. My eyes began to water, but the stinging from my knuckles had made me realize what I’d done. There stood before me a blonde man, curly hair, mixed together prints for a jacket, and blood trailing from his lips. He stared at me for a moment before my body decided to make a break for it. 

It was nauseating. What was once a safe, intoxicating environment, quickly turned into a maze of bumping into people, screams of terror instead of laughter, and the overwhelming sense that I can’t get away. I was trapped, and once the boardwalk was closed it would be the end of me. However, I reached the end of the boardwalk before it closed. There was nothing between me and death now, just the empty abyss of the quiet night. 

I was faint, my heart working over time due to the panic. My breathing became erratic, sweat prominent on my forehead. I scanned the surrounding areas for any source of cover. Nothing. 

He appeared in front of me, like some kind of angel of death. I backed up, he grabbed my arms.

“I think you should come with me.” He said. I shook my head no, tears and snot were making their way down my chin. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” he said. I felt oddly calm after that. I couldn’t understand why. I didn’t want to be calm, but it’s like I didn’t have any other choice. 

Marko grabbed my hand and led me to where the rest of the boys and Paul were. Paul grinned, the other two were a bit suspicious.

“Are you gonna kill me?” I blurted out. Paul seemed shocked while Dwayne and David didn’t speak. 

“Why wouldn’t you? You’re the creepy guys hanging outside my window. Following me. Trying to roofie me in your weird hideout.” I shot at them, 

“You think it’s us following you? The Boardwalk is open to anyone, doll.” David said. “Plus, you went with us after your boyfriend dumped you.” 

“Micahel was never my boyfriend, and you know what I’m talking about. You were outside my window.” I accused them. It had to be them, there was no denying that. I always felt watched then they mysteriously showed up. The faces that plagued me in my nightmares were all too familiar. They even followed me to my house and spied on me. They were the crazy ones, not me. 

“No we weren't. We brought you over to talk to you, especially because of last night. You were the one who just left after we invited you to our space. Not the other way around.” David pointed to me. He was partially right, I didn’t have to go with them, Michael chose to leave me there in hopes he could get his dick wet. It wasn’t their fault. 

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I’ve just been having a rough couple of days. 

“That’s ok.” Paul interjected. “I mean like, we're still friends, if you wanted to talk we could.” 

“We just want to talk to you, we really do.” Marko put his hand on my shoulder in a comforting way. “Any friend of Paul is a friend of ours.”

“We were just messing with Michael last night, our intention wasn’t to upset you.” David puffed out of his cigarette. 

“Seriously, man. We were just messing with Micahel.” Paul slapped me on the shoulder. “So what do ya say? Friends?” 

I felt pressured to say yes, which is probably why I agreed to let them take me somewhere. I hope Michael and Sam were having a better time than me. 

[thegeminisage]

sigh. tng update time. tuesday we did "sarek" and last night i sadly watched "menage a troi" on my own.

sarek: the fact that they mentioned his "son's wedding" once near the beginning and never clarified distracted me for the entire episode until i could google it. and google gave me no answers except to say that he married saavik in some semi-canonical novel. i hate that because saavik was his student (i guess aos had him right after all...) and also because of whatever horrible and weird thing they had going on in search for spock. WHICH BY THE WAY BROKE PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED CANON don't get me started

anyway, aside from that, this episode fucking ruled

i love the concept of vulcan dementia just being vulcan emotionalism. i wonder if it's genetic. i wonder if spock would've gotten it had he lived longer. i kind of wish spock had been the one following sarek around containing his emotions even though i wouldn't wish that fate on him cuz then i would've gotten to see him :(

less thrilled about the new wife. they could have had someone else play amanda if her real actress wasn't available (and she wasn't dead, i checked). if people live for like 150 years in the future there simply wasn't long enough for her to die and for sarek to have gotten remarried, especially if vulcans bond for life (which i guess was implied in some interpretations of amok time but not canonized).

actually, if sarek had once been bonded to someone as spock was to t'pring, how did HE wind up with a human wife...did he get remarried so quickly because of pon farr or does that wind down as vulcans get older...so many questions which will never be answered

anyway, i loved the sudden bursts of anger, it was so fun. uh except for beverly hitting her kid but it wasnt Her so we can move past it. especially thrilled with riker and picard almost getting into it

SAREK CRYING? ok king. i wish we had gotten to see spock cry and not in that deleted tmp scene

i loved picard's nerdery of him also. that makes the mind meld very fun. the rituals are literally intricate. also, "we shall always have the best parts of each other inside of us" i HOPE THATS TRUE FOR SPOCK AND KIRK AND BONES. i read an excerpt from a novel. well. i don't want to talk about it

anyway, picard calling out to spock and amanda...maybe i did well up a little at the mention of spock's name. who can say!!!!!

menage a troi: SSSSSSSSSSSIGH

ok, so i grabbed this one by myself because the summary looked bad and we're trying to finish s3 before chr*stmas fucks up all our social plans. no matter how bad the summary was, the actual episode was WORSE

i have three good things to say about this episode actually. the first was that i like that deanna yelled at her mom again, although this time i know better than to expect it to stick. the second was that i LOOOOVED deanna and riker's little date outfits. extremely charming. and finally i loved when lwaxana handed riker that horrible looking vegetable and he ate it with only mild reluctance. king is literally down to clown.

the rest of this ep was garbage. i know we didn't actually see any sex happen but i feel like they implied pretty heavily that the ferengi fucked her, possibly even multiple times. and like it's funny! ha ha ha look at the crazy situations this eccentric lady gets into! ha ha ha look at her and deanna having to run around naked!

somehow, this was the worst lwaxana episode yet. idk why i actually expected them to do a little better in s3. like, if i was gene roddenberry and they did this to my WIFE on MY SHOW. but you can put even odds on it being his idea or him getting off to it. his horrible little fetish fuel.

cherry on top was lwaxana's self-sacrifice at the end where she stays behind to let deanna escape sex slavery or whatever. which one felt like a classic narcissist parent thing and two wasn't even real - it was an excuse for picard to do badly-acted poetry on the bridge to pretend to be her jealous lover to get them to let her go. and then after all that she goes right back to sexually harassing HIM. because it's funny! ha ha ha!

anyway, it's a shame they had wes's little arc as the b plot of this episode because it was fine and feels important continuity wise, and yet every list on earth will rightfully suggest this episode get skipped because it fucking sucks.

tonight, the last two episodes of season 3 - "transfigurations" and "best of both worlds part i." i already know picard gets BORGED in the finale because i've known that since i was a baby and i am WAITING!!! they fucjing blue balled me in the first borg ep and i am MORE than ready for some brainwashed cyborg action. palette cleanser after lwaxana troi episodes.

[ceilingfan5]

[id: a simple drawing of a sun wearing sunglasses and smiling]

HEY idk about you but the weather has been shitty here and i have been aching for sunshine so i have manufactured some with my bare hands

here is nearly 4,000 words of taakitz ridiculousness, while i take a break from my cruise fic, which was initially supposed to be a break from a different fic--it's fine. you get to eat these delicious words don't WORRY about it.

go read As Luck Would Have It (rated T) if this sounds like it will warm your bones and make you smile:

Kravitz gets invited to a weird party and then the only person he knows there disappears, so he ends up having to get friendly with the host. But that's a good thing.

or read it below but again it is 3.7k: (minor warning for brief mentions of alcohol)

“So, got your goth speedo ready?” Sloane needles, throwing her arm around Kravitz. He nearly gets knocked over and the guy behind them in the coffee line looks a little annoyed that she’s butted in, but not enough to be unpolite about it yet. 

“My fucking what now?” Kravitz half-drags her forward as the next shmuck in line gets a frothy caffeine milkshake. 

“I thought I told you that we’re goin’ to a beach party tonight. What’s the problem? I know you don’t work tomorrow. I have your gcal and everything. No escape.”

“Well,” Kravitz says, fishing for an excuse and coming up fishless. “It’s, listen, I know it’s April, but it’s supposed to snow tonight. The weather is garbage, and you want to have a beach party?”

“Uh, for one thing, it’s not my beach party, it’s Tres Horny Boys’ beach party-”

“What.”

“And for another-” they move up in line again, Sloane making it no easier on him. He’d have more to complain about if it wasn’t really nice, having someone lean on him after a long day at work. “It’s inside, so you have no excuse.” 

“What am I supposed to do, come in a bathrobe?” 

“Whatever floats your goat. Either way I said you’d be coming, so whatever your evening plans were-”

“Watching youtube until I pass out, I think?” They’re almost to the counter. Soon he will be buzzing enough to handle this.

“Cancel them! You’ve got places to be!” 

“Hey, Sloane? Not to sound like Winnie the Pooh-”

“Great start, continue.”

“But- oh bother .”

“That’s the spirit!”

Kravitz does not know how to dress for a beach party in the warmest, buttered-toastiest weather, so dressing for a beach party in the literally-beginning-to-snow ass weather was vexing beyond measure. Much laying on the floor about it had to happen. But god as his witness, he is going to follow the fucking rules, and he ends up in long black shorts, a casual black short sleeved shirt over a band t-shirt, and a scarf and gloves. He goes back and forth on the hat. It ends up jammed in his pocket on the way to the front door of the Tres Horny Household. 

He wishes he had come with Sloane. He’s afraid he won’t know anyone here. He’s been spiraling about parties and their insurmountable social nature for the last several hours since their coffee moment, but now new and fresh terrors assault his imagination. What if he took the dress code wrong? What if he has nothing in common with the guests? What if Sloane wasn’t allowed a plus one? What if-

The door opens. Music spills out, jaunty and warm and unseasonable. The guy standing in the heavenly rectangle of light, illuminated like some kind of angel royalty, puts his hands on his hips and squints at Kravitz.

He is absolutely wearing swim trunks and not much else. There are novelty sunglasses propped on his head that look like sunshines, and the sunshines are also wearing sunglasses. Kravitz is incredibly aware of the snow. It is in his hair and everything. Blowing about like dollars in a horrible game show or something. Will he win the grand prize (out-of-season frostbite)? 

“Hello,” Kravitz tries, great start, classic, tried and true, familiar, 4.8 stars, 14,956 reviews. “I’m- Sloane invited me, I- hello-”

“Hello,” surfing angel replies, looking incredibly amused at his squirming. “I was gonna let you ring the doorbell or something, but you were just standing there.”

“Guilty as charged,” comes out of Kravitz’s mouth, unbidden. 

“Well, come into the beach, dork,” he says, biting back a grin. “I’m Taako. This is my party.”

Kravitz mumbles a thank you and moves into the very warm house, looking around and finding all sorts of brightly colored wildness. There are leis on nearly every surface, blow-up palm trees, surely at least fifteen beach balls at first glance, a photo background that looks like a shark’s open mouth, a literal kiddie pool filled with sand– real sand. What are they going to do with it when they’re done? How hard is it going to be to clean up?? Why did they think that was a good idea indoors? Why are three different people collaborating on an elaborate sand castle already??��

“Food’s in the kitchen, you know the party rules, yeah? Key bowl’s over there if you’re planning on needing it.” Taako stretches and pops his back, and Kravitz glances away, cheeks warming. His soft middle is so touchable, is the thing. And this is a complete stranger he needs to demonstrate his good skills at being a regular person to. 

So that he can get invited to the next bonkers party?? What’s the goal here? What’s the rubric?? 

“You good, cowboy?” Taako asks, slipping his hands into his board short pockets and making them slide down just a little bit more. He’s so pretty. His long hair is tied up, but what if it wasn’t? His eyes are glittering with the kind of mischief a person would need oodles of to plan such a ridiculous shindig, and Kravitz is distracted. 

“Yuh-huh,” he says. Kravitz tugs at his short sleeve, feeling exposed. Some of his non-face skin is showing. He’s practically nude, here. “Have you seen Sloane?”

“Last I saw her,” Taako whistles softly. “She was filling water balloons to cause problems and kissing her girlfriend, so I assume she is either still doin’ that, or isn’t.”

“Thank you.” Very helpful. Super duper productive line of clues here. 

“For sure.” Taako points out the shoe rack and nods his head as a song he must really like comes on. “Come try my food when you’ve found her. Hopefully you actually have a palate and won’t just shove shit in your mouth ‘cause it’s there like these chucklefucks. You look like a guy that chews his food.” He winks, and even though that’s an insane thing to say to someone you’ve just met, Kravitz is oddly pleased. 

“Definitely. I will definitely chew your food.” 

Taako giggles and covers his mouth, like the odd sound that came out of it could have been anything but supremely enchanting. 

“I gotta go- be somewhere else,” he says, with serious confidence, and so Kravitz accepts it at face value and nods as Taako about-faces and skedaddles.

Kravitz debates leaving his gloves with his shoes. His hands are gold, but he doesn’t want to be a total goober. And should he? Or shouldn’t he? 

It’s easy to get tangled up headphones style, but he crawls out of this pocket and leaves both behind.

Keeps the fuckin’ scarf on though. It’s cold. His knees are cold, even. Not that a scarf can fix that. But if he warms some of his blood, it can travel around and share that warmth with the rest of his body juice? Right? Probably? 

Either way, he heads for a bathroom or something to find Sloane. Or not find her. But he’s going to start somewhere with a sink. If he gets hit by a water balloon later he will yell. Definitely. She’d better know that. The hallway is a little less loud, although he does accidentally kick into a beach ball on the floor. The light is off, and he breathes a little.

Nobody is in the bathroom, which will probably not stay the same for much longer, but right now that’s just a problem, because where is the only person at this entire party that he knows, actually?

He nearly bumps into something as he goes back into the hallway, and it turns out to be, not a coat rack, or a decorative table, or like, something a regular person would have in a regular house, but instead, yes really, a capsule machine. 

Kravitz squints at it (once he has determined it is not at risk of tumbling and shattering on the carpet, where he will definitely step on the treacherous bits). He looks both towards the living room (lively, loud, beachy) and presumably the bedrooms (relatively quiet, only one door slightly open) and then again at the actual capsule machine. It looks a lot like a shiny red gumball machine, just rectangular and filled with little plastic acorns full of mysteries. 

It’s incredibly tempting, is the thing. Kravitz has a few emergency quarters in his pocket. You know, just in case. And obviously it is here for a reason, right? If it doesn’t accept his quarters, then it will be fine, and he will put them back in his pocket and go find Sloane. Yep. Probably not haunted.

Tentatively, he inserts two coins and turns the mechanism, and something clicks and churns out a little plastic container. Kravitz takes it out and holds it up to the light from the living room, and not quite sure what’s inside, pops it open. 

It’s a squishy glittery rubber duck. It is perfect, down to the eyes that have seen the Horrors (™). Kravitz laughs delightedly and quacks softly to himself. 

Okay, well, if that’s what’s going on here, he has two more quarters. 

His duck needs some friends, obviously. 

He takes his last two coins out, pops them in the thing, excitedly turns the knob, and another capsule drops. He removes it, and it rattles strangely. Is it full of…skittles? Almonds? 

He pops it open and it smells like fish. And he kind of gags about it. This is not a skittle treat. This is not a skittle treat at all. If he is not mistaken, those are fucking cat treats. In the capsule machine. In some guy’s house. 

“What the actual fuck,” he says softly, and, not expecting a reply, is startled when he hears a gravelly meow from the open bedroom door. 

The skrunkliest cat he has ever seen appears, haunted lamp-eyes first, white tail flicking behind it. It is also wearing a flower lei and appears to give not a single rat’s bananas about it. It meows again and Kravitz nearly drops the capsule. He kind of feels like he’s summoned some sort of Beast. 

“Hey there,” he says, squatting down to see the critter. “Did you come to party?” 

The cat paws at him and yowls, seemingly knowing exactly what the fuck is going on, and befuddled but pleased, Kravitz gives the cat the treats. 

He’s kind of glad he was invited to this party full of insane people. Truly the guys who live here can’t be regular. Right? Like, something has to be a little wrong with them. There’s some texture in this salad. Crunchy. 

The cat rubs against him and purrs, sounding like some kind of motor boat chewing aquarium gravel, and he’s fucking enchanted. He puts the capsules in his pocket, and after loving on the cat for an extended period of time, he decides he definitely needs more quarters. Like, if that’s what’s in there, either way it’s good, right? He tries to peer in the transparent sides of the machine, but it’s kind of difficult to tell what other curiosities await inside. He’s so fucking tempted. What if it took paypal is the thing? Or credit? 

No, that’s dangerous. Like one more dollar would be fine, and then he can socialize. 

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, and the cat chirrs at him with a knowing look in its glittery eyes. Kind of like Taako’s. 

He braves the party again, which in less than twenty minutes has gotten even weirder. The cat, wiser than he, did not follow. Kravitz politely pushes through to the kitchen, where he can still hear people sing-hollering Boat Drinks at the top of their lungs. The only person in there is Taako, who is sitting on the counter and looking kind of put out, but perks up like an animated sunflower when Kravitz walks in the doorway. 

“Hey hey,” he says, kicking his legs and nearly thumping the opposite cabinet. “Wondered where you were. Sloane went to pick up some pizzas. They were all like, weh weh, our driver got abducted by aliens or whatever so if you want your pineapple shenanigans you gotta come down to main office, so she was like, I volunteer as tribute, and I was like we have perfectly good horse divorce right here, but okay I guess, and anyway hello again, hi.” 

“Hi,” Kravitz says, smiling at Taako. He’s kind of picking up on what he’s putting down now, actually. He hasn’t met the other two Boys, but he wants to assume that the capsule machine was his idea. “I met your cat.” 

“Yeah?” Taako blooms about it. “That’s my sweet boy who has every disease. His name is Garyl, and he is a menace to society. He is on house arrest until they find the Picassos.”

“Picassos, huh? I figured him for a Monet kind of guy.” 

“Picassos are easier to forge,” Taako says with an impish shrug. “What’s up? Come to sample my wares?” He does a sweeping gesture at the half-demolished spread of appetizers and desserts. 

“Definitely!” Kravitz is feeling more like a person again. This, he can do. Solve mysteries, pet cats, eat little pigs in a blanket? Absolutely. Dance to music that rattles his bones until he feels like a skeleton getting played like a xylophone, no thank you. He gets a plate, paper, printed with cute little animal faces. It was probably meant to be a joke, but Kravitz finds it kind of charming. “What’s your favorite?”

“Well obviously, it’s all good, ‘cause cha’boi made ‘em, but uh, like, the desserts are lip-smackery, and the, yeah,” he waves at Kravitz, who is already loading up. “Yeah, some of those, and the little, yeah, those are spinach puffs, but if you’re like, augh, spinach? Spinach poisoned my crops and shaved my dog to look like a monk, then you’ll be pleasantly surprised, ‘cause they fuck verily.” 

Kravitz pops one in his mouth, and is wonderfully surprised.

“Verily indeed,” he says, mouth still kind of full. He picks through most of the rest of it, and comes to lean on the cabinet sort of by Taako so they can, he doesn’t know, chat, or something? He’s trying. He’s trying so hard.

At least Taako looks thrilled about his food interest. 

“Knew you could chew,” he says. 

“Lots of experience,” Kravitz says. “Been on my resume for years.”

That makes Taako giggle-snort, and Kravitz counts it as a win. 

“So, what do you do?” 

“Me?” Kravitz sweats. “I mean, me? What I do?”

“For sure that is what I meant, yeah?” Taako raises his eyebrows. “I mean, you want me to go first? I work at a bakery. So like, if you see your boy fall asleep mid-sentence, be regular about it, yeah?”

“Noted,” Kravitz says, affectionately. “I do not work at a bakery. I work at Sniffem’s, and also the funeral home.”

“Sniffem’s??” Taako cackles. “You’re a candle merchant?” 

“Candle stacker,” Kravitz corrects. “My candle hawking was not aggressive enough, and I got demoted to the back of the store.”

“Couldn’t up-smell, huh?” Taako says, barely containing his laughter enough to finish the sentence, and Kravitz snickers. 

“Little more interesting, than uh, than Neverwinter Rest and Crematory, so uh, I tend to lead with that one-”

“I mean,” Taako covers another laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t joke, you might be, you might not think it’s funny.” 

“Listen,” Kravitz says. “You aren’t going to offend me, unless you’re trying to be mean, in which case I will cry. Like if you criticize my penmanship or something, I’ll dwell on it, but like, if you’re about to say what I think you’re going to say-”

“That’s the thing-” Taako’s voice is pitching up and he nearly looks like he’s going to explode. “I’m not quite there? There’s- listen- I’m not trying to be a dick- but there’s a burning joke in there and I just can’t quite crack that nut- ”

“Maybe,” Kravitz starts, mostly amused by it all. He’s heard all sorts of things about the funeral home, and he’s gotten over it a long time ago. He’s struggling to force that connection too when someone–handsome, weirdly long sideburns–pops his head in. “HEY!” he shouts, into the much quieter kitchen. “Can we get five more mulled strawberry daiquiris and a Long Island Hot Tea?” 

“Fuck off!” Taako says, cheeks pinkening, as Kravitz tries not to gag about the idea of hot beach drinks. Like, he gets the math there, but no, jail for a thousand years. “I’m talking to my friend-!”

“Thanks, Taako!!!” The guy, who could be, mm, maybe not a lumberjack, but like a model dressed up like a lumberjack who would hurt himself in the photoshoot by getting too enthusiastic about the ax? Ducks back into the party, as if Taako had responded positively. 

“Hey, what fucking is your name though, gorgeous?” Taako says, incredibly directly, piercing through Kravitz until he could be used as a colander in a pinch. 

Did he fucking forget, like, the basic bit? Like, the second thing? He got as far as hello and ate shit? He wants to evaporate. 

“Kravitz,” he says. “Did I not-”

“Nope,” Taako says, popping the p like a balloon in a sharp things factory. “But if there’s anything else you wanna do backwards, I’m open?”

“I do actually have a question,” Kravitz manages, despite the delayed hit of gorgeous flooding his bloodstream like a designer party drug of some nature. He’s not sure. He’s never really engaged with that sort of scene. 

Taako blinks at him, but congenially goes, “Shoot?”

“What- hey, what’s the deal with the capsule machine in the hallway?”

Taako regains that mischievous look tenfold. Funny business and hanky-panky, thy name is Taako Lastname. 

“That? Oh, that? That’s an investment, my man. I, so listen, there was a sale, right? And I figured- I mean, it’s a little joy in a popbubble whenever you’re feeling down, yeah? Marie Kondo, live your life, et cetera, but also like, good for parties, you know, we do lots of parties, maybe you can come to the next one? Gonna be casino themed.”

“Love that,” Kravitz says. “Poker.”

“Dressup,” Taako nods. “Like- like me and the guys, we’re, you know, just dudes, not like, heroes or whatever, but we’re joy-dealers, you know? Merchants of smiles, yeah? Does that sound insane?”

“Maybe, but I like it?” Kravitz smiles at him, and eats a little tart thing so he doesn’t have to say more. It’s–get this—so fucking good. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, well. Yeah. So, like, we do these weird parties, right? Like- when shit’s got you down, we can get you up, wink, and like,” he kicks his feet like he’s trying to slow down his thoughts so they don’t all tumble out of him. Kravitz is immensely charmed. “I mean, I just thought it was funny.”

“It really made me smile, Taako,” Kravitz says honestly, and Taako lights right back up. “And it’s sweet that you put something in there for your cat, too.” 

“Yeah?” Taako beams, vindicated. “Garyl loves that shit. Normally he’d fuck off entirely, but he must have heard you fuckin’ round and got excited. Good thing you got lucky.” 

“Right,” Kravitz’s cheeks burn. “I only had a dollar in quarters. I’m kind of surprised I even had quarters on me, but- you know, it was fun. You’re really- fun.”

Taako’s smile softens a little. He brushes hair back behind his ear and glances away. 

“Sure,” he says. 

“Is it weird I’m really tempted to do it again? Like, you wouldn’t have-”

“I one hundred percent have rolls on rolls of quarters specifically for this situation,” Taako says all in a rush. He hops down, and then tries to pretend to be chiller about this. “If, you want? I mean, you can go do sand karaoke-”

“I do not see myself doing sand karaoke right now,” Kravitz says, as politely as he can. Taako looks pleased, and snatches a ziplock bag full of coins off the microwave. “How much do you wanna spend?” And he heads back through the party to the hall, Kravitz plodding baby-duck like behind. 

He ignores the wild overstimulation of the party. He focuses on Taako’s long braid, and the jaunty way it swings, and the soft slope of his back, a star-field of freckles exposed by his silly beach party outfit, when, again, it is one hundred percent snowing out there. 

Affection warms him from the inside out. He may as well be glowing. Aw, fuck, is he getting a crush? Oh no. Oh lord. Oh bother. 

“Hey Garyl,” Taako announces to the empty doorway, as he stops in front of the capsule machine. A person waiting for the bathroom glances at them, and then looks back at their phone. 

“I can give you some bills-” Kravitz tries, but Taako waves him off and hands him the bag. 

“Later,” he says. “Let’s see what else you get. Try for a real prize, right? There’s all sorts of weird shit in there. I think I put a ring, you know, I put a little jerky snack, a whole bunch of these ugly little alien guys? And there’s the balloon animals, the glitter ducks,” he starts counting on his fingers. 

Kravitz takes out two quarters and pops them in. Taako delightedly watches him turn the crank and remove the purple-capped plastic gift. 

“What’dja get?”

Kravitz pops it open, unsure- and then nearly perishes on the spot. It is, there is no denying it, the familiar foil square of a condom. 

There’s a beat. And then Taako begins to die laughing, as Kravitz nearly melts into the resell-beige carpet. Taako laughs so hard he nearly chokes, and grabs onto Kravitz’s elbow for support. Kravitz, despite his mortification, can’t help it–Taako’s laughter is contagious, and he starts into it too, and nearly falls apart when Taako manages to get out– 

“The thing is-” he wheezes. “The thing is? I’m not- listen. The thing is? There’s only one of those in there-”

“Guess I got lucky,” Kravitz has to say. Taako actually falls to the floor laughing. 

And Kravitz? Well, maybe he’s going to have a good time after all. 

[sebastianswallows]

3, 4, 23 and 32 for thate weird adult questions 💕 (please feel free to ignore it, too)

Hellooo! 💚✨ No way I'd ignore you!

3. Foaming hand soap or normal hand soap?

As I've literally never tried foaming hand soap, I'll go with the normal variety lol I think the closest I've tried to the foaming soaps is gel soap? But I don't like that they come in plastic bottles, whereas soap bars just come wrapped in their little paper thing so it's more eco. Also you can get really cute ones with flowers inside and stuff.

4. Favorite chore?

Washing the dishes 😂 I don't know, I've just always liked it. I guess cause it gives you the excuse in winter to keep your hands in warm water and in summer in cold water. And I just find it kinda calming.

23. Paper bags, plastic bags, or reusable bags?

Reusable all the way. Paper bags second, and plastic bags if I run out of garbage bags lol I have these really cute cloth bags and I typically always have one with me if I can fit it in my purse or laptop case, cause you never know when you'll need to do a spontaneous shopping session. And it's so much comfier to put heavy things in it and carry it on your shoulder than to worry about whether the plastic or the paper bag will break.

32. How do you take your morning coffee/tea?

I don't regularly have morning anything lately, except a glass of water. I used to have tea (swore off coffee a few years ago) and I like to have my tea with honey and coconut milk, but I've started to avoid honey as I tend to eat too many sweets, I think. My favourite kind of tea is green but I'm not sure that's good for me (I'm thin and lack appetite, last person who should be drinking green tea) so I'll be switching to black tea in the near future 🥲 Wish me luck.

Thank you for the ask, my dearest! 😘💕

[harmonyckrs]

Act 4, Scene 4 of Twisted Veronaville: The Disappearance of Mercutio Monty

THE LAST PAGE

Tank: Ripp.

Ripp: Oh, you again. What are you going to do now, huh?

Tank: I just wanted to congratulate you. You've won.

Ripp: What, is Tybalt awake?

Tank: No. The Knights of Order don't even care anymore. Sana and Hamza keep going off with their girlfriends and Zoya left town to save one of her friends.

Ripp: That just means they gave up.

Tank: I guess so...but I think I understand where you're coming from now.

Ripp: (This was a weird conversation, but at least we won't have to worry about the Knights of Order anymore.)

Aktu: Oh, wow!

Aktu: Kent wrote me a love poem! That's so sweet of him!

Tank: ...The more I think about it, how did anyone fall for the "the people living with you are your aunt and uncle" thing? Neither of the two look anything like either of us.

Ripp: I'm assuming they thought I was adopted. After all, Puck is, too. It's not news to them.

Tank: Who's Puck?

Ripp: The redhead with the face paint?...he's pretty hard to miss. Have you not talked to anyone here?

Tank: No? What's the point? They're all going to die anyway.

Ripp: No wonder you failed your mission...come on. I'm introducing you to hi-

Ripp: (Oh, it's Kent! I haven't seen him since we stole Tybalt's body from the crypt. I wonder if we should tell him...)

Kent: Hey, Aktu? Are you busy?

Aktu: Nope! Just woke up, actually. Why?

Kent: I want to talk to you about something, in private.

Ripp: (Shoot! This isn't about Tybalt, is it?)

Aktu: Yeah, sure! Let's go inside.

Ripp: (Kent hasn't noticed me yet. I should probably go before he notices me and starts asking questions. I'll let Aktu deal with this himself.)

Ripp: Come on, Tank, let's go. We're going to go meet Puck.

Puck: (The tension at home is almost as bad as the tension at school. I wonder how Tybalt would feel, seeing all of this-)

*DING DONG*

Bottom: I'll get it!...Puck! It's your new emo friend! And there's like some guy with green slop on his face!

Tank: It's face paint!

Bottom: That's some really garbage face paint, then!

Puck: Bottom, don't say that!...and hi, Ripp. Who's the other guy?

Ripp: This is my brother. He's living with my...other aunt. Wanted to introduce him to everyone.

Puck: (Weird time for an introduction). Well, hi! It's nice to meet you.

Tank: Why are your ears shaped like that?

Puck: Excuse me? What's wrong with my ears?

Tank: They're pointy? You're not secretly an alien or anything, right?

Puck: Why don't we just...go inside?

(one long and slightly racist monologue about aliens later)

Tank: ...aliens have the ability to mind control other people and impregnate men, so we have to make sure they get eliminated as soon as possible.

Puck: That's great, um...what was your name?

Tank: Tank.

Puck: Right. Well, my godfather got abducted a while ago, and his boyfriend also got abducted and had kids over it. Both of them were fine, from what I heard.

Tank: You don't think they could've been switched out?

Puck: I mean...now that you think about it-

Ripp: Puck, don't believe a word he says. I've literally met actual aliens and they were super chill. He's just racist.

Tank: I'm not! You don't realize exactly how much danger you've been putting yourself in! They were probably just waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Puck: I can see why you two live in different houses...

While Tank and Ripp were with the Summerdreams, Romeo paid me a visit at the silo near Monty Ranch.

Romeo: Viola.

Viola: Hm? How exactly did you find me here?

Romeo: Well, the silo is a quiet place that nobody ever goes to, and I know you're not reckless enough to stay in the area where the Capps are.

Viola: Fair point. So, what's going on?

Romeo: Mercutio sort of, um, disappeared...

Viola: (HE RAN AWAY?) Why are you saying that like you were responsible?

Romeo: I guess I kind of feel like I am? He's only acting like this because I dated Juliette, which somehow lead to him getting it on with Tybalt for some reason.

Viola: You're not that powerful. It's not like you brought them

Romeo: But...there was someone who did.

Viola: What are you implying here?

Romeo: That new kid, Ripp! He's the one who's responsible for Mercutio's disappearance, with those parties and group hangouts that he never invited me too!

Viola: No, I don't think that's right eith-

Romeo: I'LL END HIM! AND AVENGE MERCUTIO!

Viola: (goddammit.)

THE NEXT PAGE

[cellard0ors]

Where Eliza gets off to, Travis could really care less about.

His concern now is keeping Laura safe, and while his mind is still a reeling, complicated mess, he takes her hand in his and looks for shelter.

He feels both drunk and hungover, the way everything in his brain is sloshing around:

Laura and himself playing pretend pirates.

Laura and himself eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Laura kissing him - kissing him so well after days and days of deliriously good practice.

She's everywhere. She's in everything. She brings color to his past, to his life. Jesus Christ, how could he have forgotten her?

There's been a hole inside him for so long and now it's full - overflowing, bursting with her. With love for her and as they take refuge behind a large clump of trees, Silas's howls ringing out again, Travis turns to her, "Laura, Laura I'm so sorry. Fuck, all that stupid shit I said-!"

"It's okay." Her voice is warbling with emotion as she runs her fingers through his hair, tucking a few strands behind one ear, "You didn't mean it."

"No." He grumbles and he takes that same hand, kissing it tenderly, "No, I did. Don't make excuses for me. I was a fucking idiot. But I'll make it up to you. I swear to God, I will."

Silas howls again and Travis curses, pulling her closer as if to shelter her, "Once we get ourselves out of this mess. Any ideas?"

"You're asking me?!"

"Yeah." Travis deadpans, "You're the smart one."

Laura's smile wiggles some, overcome with emotion as she is, "You really do remember..."

She looks at his mouth and dear fucking God, does he want to kiss her, but, "Gotta wait, sweetheart. You kiss me now, I'm not going to stop. And while there's no other way I'd like to die..."

Laura draws in a loud breath and nods, directing her gaze back up to his eyes, "Okay. You're right."

Looking around the copse of trees they're hiding behind, Laura turns to Travis, "Alright, you said this site disappeared after the fire?"

Travis nods, "The fire happened at night. Next day we started the clean up - firetruck crew, garbage men, cops - the whole lot. We cleaned out some debris, a few bodies - but the day after," he shakes his head, "It was all gone."

"Hmm, no doubt Eliza shrouded it after that, because she not only came fully into her incorporeal form, but because she wanted to protect her body."

"That sounds plausible." Travis agrees, "We weren't finished in just one day - there was a lot left behind. We thought we had plenty of time. When none of us could find it..."

He lets out an aggravated snarl, "Let's just say red tape in a small town is both looser and stickier than you'd think. Mayor wanted it all tied up quick - found the whole thing an embarrassment - was worried it'd reflect poorly on his reelection."

Travis actually spits to one side, "After the curse hit my family, we looked for it too. But no luck. Yet here we are..."

Laura swishes her mouth from side to side in thought, "Well, it's been a long time, but looking around now, I seem to recall the contortionist's stage being over there and the cotton candy stand over there...so that would put Silas's cage and Eliza's caravan..."

She peeks around the trees once more before motioning to Travis that he should follow her. They stick low to the ground, picking carefully through the underbrush around them so as to make little to no noise.

They reach a burned out area of trees, small signs of life returning to the scorched wood in the form of green moss.

There's a loud, shuffling to one side of them and Laura grabs one of Travis's arms, tugging on it tightly so that he'll move with her behind some boulders.

They do so and only seconds later, Silas darts by, his nose raised and sniffing loudly. The two hold their breath as the werewolf prowls around the spot they were just standing.

Neither of them can say why luck has chosen to smile upon them for once, as Silas can't seem to pinpoint their exact location. Grunting and growling as he bounds off into the distance, away from them.

With the danger passed (for now) the two practically collapse in on one another. Laura gasps 'That was close' even as Travis looks at her and says softly, "You haven't changed."

Laura blinks at him, confused, until he looks down, his voice bitter, "You're just as beautiful as you were the last time I saw you. Just as young..."

"A-actually, I'm twenty two now..." She offers this as if it will help, but he merely snorts even as she tacks on, "In a manner of speaking..."

"How-?"

Laura shrugs, "Magic. She kept Silas and I young. Better that way - easier to keep us in her control. It's not the kind of spell someone can use on themselves though, so-?"

Another shrug, "She aged. It's probably why she forgot she'd been here before. It's why I sent you the tickets..."

"You found out I was the sheriff." Travis sighs and rubs at his face, guilt hitting him like a freight train, "You thought I'd come and save you. Save both of you."

One last helpless shrug and he lets out a sour laugh, "Here I was earlier, blaming you - when this really is all my fucking fault."

"No, Travis-!"

"If I'd have just fucking gone that night, none of this would have happened. I've thought that before, long before tonight," He laughs again, sadder this time, "At least now I know for sure it's true."

Laura looks like she wants to object again, but Travis isn't done as he looks at her, takes in her lovely face, "Look at you...still so young, still so beautiful...and here I am..."

He shakes his head ruefully, looking away from her, and she finally gets her chance to speak, "You have nothing to apologize for, Travis. You grew up. That's all."

"You can admit it: I grew old." Travis stresses, looking back at her, "Old and nasty - twisted. You don't even know the promises I broke, the ones I made to you-!"

"Hey!" Laura cuts him off sternly, takes his face in her hands so he'll look directly at her, "You didn't know you were breaking anything. Okay? I took your memories from you...I-I thought it would be easier. That you'd be fine without me...happy even..."

She runs her thumbs over his cheekbones and he leans into the touch as she whispers, "I hurt you first, Travis. So...it's okay. And-and I know you just got your memories back, but...nothing's changed for me. I still lov-!"

Silas howls again and there's the sound of him thrashing through the forest in the distance. He's not close to them, far from it, but the sounds remind them of their mission, of what they're here to do.

Laura lets his face go and returns with determination, "To be continued..."

"Oh," Travis grins, "You better believe it."

The two move out from behind the boulders. Bound and determined to continue their search.

[taralen]

brain rot dump HAHA. beware. 6 AM

I can't even enjoy a video game without disassociating.

I want to laugh because it's so pathetic.

Cringe. Cringe. Cringe.

"You're completely unhinged." Sweetheart, I don't know what it's like to be HINGED!

I should be in a fancy suit, making my family proud, and here I am, burning in my seat, melting inside and out.

I'm good at answering the phone, so why the hell can't I get a job picking one up? LOL? Experience? Flush it down with that $18,000 toilet paper. I know how to switch one to him or her or any which way this or that WHERE is the operations manager I DON'T KNOW he doesn't want to speak to you.

If my boss knew I could sell $500 worth of goods better than the sales chick who can't even follow up on hours, then why the HELL did he put me in the back? ROTTING aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

GIVE THE NEW GUY SOMETHING TO DO???AHHHHHHHHHHHHA

Stop following me. Stop apologizing. I don't need you wringing your hands like that. This man took my JOB!

Promotion???????? ARE YOU SERIOUS with me right now?! .30 CENTS MORE than the new guy? What am I to you?! I fixed your goddamn shit I cleared your backlog of corporate CRAP for PALTRY pay and you replace me and "PROMOTE" ME! GIVE ME A BREAK!

But that was then.

I ask for nothing now, I swear. Give me a switchboard phone. I just want something to do. Talk me out of it. I'll sell your CC and shitty utensils please for the love of [[redacted]] take a chance on me

I don't want to think about her body in a garbage can. Why why why why why? Is it because I loved her? Is that why? I called her name, Iiiiiiiiii ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh she was already stiff. WHY! WHY!

I eat only 1-2 meals a day. I think I lost over twenty pounds. hahahahaha

IT'S GONNA BE A STRANGE TWIST OF FATE. TELLING ME THAT HEAVEN CAN WAIT!

You know sanity is like a stock chart? It goes up and down and up and down and up and down down down down

MY PSYCHIATRIST canceled THE APPOINTMENT? (CURRENT EVENT) WHY? HAHA does she think I'm not trying? Did she ever think SHE'S not trying?

I want a reason and excuse to wear a tie again.

AHHHH I would scream ahhhhahhh I CUT MY FINGER OPEN! I still feel the pain on scar running along my finger. I only cried from shame! I came to the office with blood running down my arm. I SAID "I think I need to go to the emergency room." HAHAHAHAHAH! I tried being economical! KIDS, please do not cut wild vegetables diagonally.

Hahaha God help me.

[tlgpandoramia]

Chapter One : The Mortifalia

Notes : Hiii, after some inner struggle I decided to share some of my book in Tumblr. I'm just yearning for some feedback XD so I would appreaciate any, but please do be kind, that's my first draft and English is not my native language. Please, don't repost anywhere without my permission. Enjoy!

Word Counting : 4020k

Rate: 16+

`'Read my words well, as I write this under some influence, I feel that my head is about to pop, no idea if all those vaccines shots put a chip, or another virus inside of me, or maybe is just that fucking MORT-09 shit scratching my brain. The doctor said I just got to avoid everything and avoid to drink too much water and take sunbath, easy for that fucker to say, I feel like my body is completely dried, even my lips are all numb and rough for lack of water, the fever is not helping either. Anyway, screw that medical garbage, all the hospitals are full like a Best Buy in a sale day, everyone is coughing blood, and some are even bleeding from the eyes, mouth, nose, ears and pretty much everywhere, is so disgusting to see that, so I prefer to stay at home, at least here I have internet, my computer and nobody looking like a weird horror story. But, the doctors gave me a shot, a vaccine of some sort, saying that it isn't one hundred percent efficient, but it should help the immune system to fight the virus, I say it is bullshit, is not doing anything and my right arm is still sore from that stupid needle.

They said that this new virus came from a plant, or a flower, whatever, is the freaking same thing. But is ugly, last week when I had to go take the shot, I saw a guy bleeding from the head, like someone had cut the top and left it to bleed, the messed up part is that it wasn't normal red blood, but dark like a can of black tint, like a midnight lagoon, the news said that this is the last stage before going into coma, then is over, you fall into a sleep and that's it.

After the shot, I started having nightmares, not the usual scary bloody clown chasing you through an abandoned factory, kind of nightmare, but some real things, like it seems it actually happened, I don't know if it was just a weak moment from my delirious mind, this fucking fever and all the stress, but I heard some feral noises, sounding like shrinks coming straight off a hellish forest. Then I woke up, and saw something through the bedroom window leading to the yard, it was a black shadow of some sort, but it had flesh underneath, it was moving in like a foggy way, giggling around and lifting itself like a cloud of gas. I was up and ready, I know this, I even remember when the trigger was pulled and the bullet hit it. I even buried it, but its always coming back, digging itself off that dirt and the grass, I see it everywhere, in the corner of my eyes, inside the pipes, struggling to get inside, pushing the door and floating around, just like that damn black fog, or spores, that I see when the ignites are on, the vacuum cleaner can't deal with that, I used it, then the next day they reappeared, but that giant human shape black fog is always coming back, doesn't matter how deep I dig it.

Yesterday I spent eight hours watching over the window, aware all the time, feeling my eyes burning and the muscles cramping, but somehow I couldn't stop it, like a sleep paralysis. That's was when I started seeing that white glow fog on every surface, just floating and existing, when I left the house they turned into those huge shining orbs on the dark sky, glowing and singing to me, chanting in a soprano voice, beautiful and peaceful, something that I didn't felt in a long time, it was like angels telling me to law down and accept my death, that they would take me to a better place if I only allow it, that feeling of being rotten from the inside vanished, even the nightmares.

I...We, all thought that this virus was just another excuse for the big pharmaceutical companies to make vaccines and earn billions, but this is different, it doesn't feel like a conspiracy theory or something, it feels real.

My blood turned black, yet sometimes I can catch a glimpse of the red color if I look hard enough.

Today is October six of two thousands and seventeen, three days after the hospital visit, the news aren't positive or hopeful, showing footage of hospital being overrun by sick people, bodies being transported in every available vehicle and being toss inside containers, some are saying that that's it, the end of humankind, between that and global warming is a tough situation to get yourselves out of it.

This Mortifalia, isn't new, I heard about it back in two thousand and six, people from all over the world used it for different purposes, some native used it the flower as a medicine, others eat it like a meal, a few beauty industry people discovered and started using in cosmetics, and not to mention how some would use it as a drug, grab the flower, smash it and mix with hot water, then just smell that thing, it would give anyone a huge high, I did that back in university years ago, maybe that's how I got it, since nobody infected came near me in years and I barely leave my house for three years. When it started becoming an issue back in two thousand and thirteen, the government said that if you took the nitrogen pills and all the vaccines, you would be fine, and so we carry on in this pandemic. In those years almost nobody died, only going into coma, millions of people went to deep sleep, some remained to recent days, I know some people had the virus in the past and nothing happened, but now they are numbers in intensive care units. A little to late, but I throw away all that had the ``dormant Mortifalia``in their formulas, the shampoos, deodorant and that cursed healing water for the skin, they always said that it was impossible for those products to infected someone since the virus within was dead, who knows...Maybe that how I got infected or the flower smelling. Is unusual to say, but I feel at peace, feeling like I could just lay down and sleep forever, the angels don't stop to speak with me, but a part of me feels that this is wrong. There is no peace at slavery, at being a puppet, I'm a salve for a thing that is controlling me, commanding me in everything, even my own thoughts, and words. No! My words are my own, shut up now, and stop whispering in my ears, telling me what to do, or is this just what I'm supposed to believe? It's controlling me, I know, just like a puppet of an insane puppet master. The smell of blood is strong coming from the next house. No, it doesn't! Maybe I should watch those angels in the sky for a little longer.'' Words found in a pre outbreak letter

The story circles to the future, two thousand and twenty seven, disclosing around survivors, one in particular being Miyako Uzume, descendant of an ancient Japanese family with roots of witchcraft and a rumor of ``Chosen by a God``, bound by a promise with a deity until end of times. ``One shall see beyond men logical perspective, blessed to not join the army of pawns that shall walk upon Earth`` An old prophecy that turned the family popular back in Japan, as nobody appreciates they.

Enough of mysticism, those word are only coming out because I fear to speak about the reality that we set upon yourselves.

Beyond the metal and atomic bomb resistant walls, lies something that would make death seems like a frail human, extermination, nothing less. The girl don't remember how the world looked outside the metal box, how most of the days were spend hiding behind the apartment and looking out of the window, never coming in contact with people of the same age or friends in general, weeks would go by and only the sight of the family members could be seen, alongside the smell of recent baked cookies and how loud the progenitor used to listen to the news, yet for her the words never made much of a sense, considering that English proved to be different from asian mother tongue. Although melancholic and boring, the past hits with a home sick feeling, coming in strong and persistent.

Most people misses the old world with all of their hearts, the daily activities, go to work, bar and parties, hear those meaningless celebrities news and the idea of just existing. An emotion not share by the child, as it may be that those were never experienced, if the inner thoughts would ever be spoken out loud, strangers would condemn, after all who could be sympathetic towards someone that believes in the idea of a pandemic world being better that the past one, overall humans grew simplistic, surviving and coping with the past takes all their time, left with no time to judge others or the path someone else wishes to walk upon, worrying about surviving another day.

Dreams of traveling, earning degrees, buying houses and last generations vehicles were crushed years ago, if one were blessed by Lady Luck an approval letter for a shelter program or an invite to live inside a Military Zone arrived in the mailbox a few days before the breaking day, half of the issues could've been dealt with it, however feeling safe also worked as an ultimatum. To be able to live inside a secure place, a citizen should proves useful, assigned to be a working member of the new society, either by attending educational institutions, tasked to a specific job or being less fortunate and work as a manufacturing worker, aiding to keep the places sturdy, maybe joining the militia, options are limited, nevertheless one still has the power of choosing, even though this power lies in two paths, accept it or leave it.

Young kids or infant born within those camps believed that the inanimate concrete and steel is a sentient deity, that shields they for the horror of the outside world, of the lands dominated by the infected, kilometers of the Black Fog covering the capitals, corruption eating away every miserable human settlement out there. Cursing someone to go to hell no longer works, now the most lucky ones wishes for others to go beyond the walls and experience how it feels out there, death penalties also ceased to exist, if one commits a crime that calls for severe punishment, then exile seems logical enough.

Hopes for an ordinary life died six years ago, a major pike of infection overwhelmed hospitals across the world, and it couldn't function anymore with millions of humans going into stasis, the point of no returning, after a few more hours the virus had full control over the host. Despite never witnessing an infected or a victim, children that grew up in shelters learned about it, The Manual describes them as ``Former humans, now in absolute control of the Mortifalia``. Diversified by five stages, all shared an importance, yet the first worries the doctors, taking place between four to six hours after a bite, scratch, breathing the spores or by simple coming in contact with infected blood, airborne took most of the victims, as they never noticed it until the last moment, some areas in cities are so deep within Its territory that the air itself is bio hazard, one dies by suffocation before turning into a Courier.

Shelters were built by the Saga Corporation, half of it were put inside major military camps, however the organization took responsibility to generate their own food, water and electricity supplies. Each party has their own objectives, the military one being to avoid infected near the borders, as a high concentration of the infection can cause a Nucleus to be form, spreading the Black Fog through the wind, even infectiing the rain and the soil itself.

Miyako rest as the youngest daughter of the prestigious virologist, Doctor Reira Uzume, a veteran researcher of the Mortifalia and a key factor for creating a vaccine, the child takes the mother word over anything, admiring her beyond compression, a woman capable of running for president, if the government worked like before, the Uzume matriarch wrote half of The Manual Of The Infection, responsible for gathering information about the virus and how to deal with it in hundred of scenarios.

The others countries remains until this day, yet details of what happened and what became of the provisional laws is a privilege meant for a few high rank officers. The USA fragmented itself in regimes called Provisional Governments, a president figure persisted, however with less power and no longer representing a political wing. With a mandate lasting three years, they need to allied themselves with the Military, Scientific or Industrial party, each with its own beliefs on how to deal with the virus and prevent humans to be extinct, and of course, making sure that the walls remains strong.

A prestige biologist, Katherine Williams sits in the White House, feeding the hope of a vaccine to save the world, whoever the truth doesn't aligned itself with this ideal. The group has the duty of maintaining the hospitals, camps and clinics, while creating ways of improving the new educational system, and worshiping the possibility of a vaccine.

Every night Miyako wonders what happened to the apartment, now laying in a prohibit area of DC, almost all were left behind, even Ren, a teddy bear given by her brother in the girl six year old birthday. On the day the world died, a group of men wearing white tuxedos knocked on the family door, demanding the four to pack it up in essential and leave for the shelter located somewhere in the capital heart, a lot of things were considered useless baggage by the agents, not allowing more that two pair of clothes and shoes, going against the orders, the oldest son sneaked away nail polishes for his sister, storing it all away inside the jacket pockets.

Once upon a time, feed the wishful think that the things left behind would feel alone and abandoned, just like she does. Through all the way to the landing spot, many people were roaming the street, some sick and wandering around, enjoying the last minutes before falling into coma, while others were protesting for a solution, gathering around the military camp protecting the white house, begging to be let inside, the scream mattered not, as none of those outside made it

That night marked the first time she left the secured place for a non medical reason, it felt engulf at some point, as the air itself attempted to crush her lungs, however the safe heaven tagged along, once more, as he promised to do each time. The vision of the round metal vault door closing imprinted itself as an intruder memory, the noise, the staff affirming in a loop that nobody should worry about anything, the smell of smoke and the red light shining, as the door closed to never be opened again, for others present there the sight worked as a reminder of hope and safety, yet for her it mold as a frightened event, locked inside a place with people that controlled the child's life since the first day.

Shelter...A fancy word to be buried inside an underground facility, in the false illusion of safety against everything the outside could throw at it, from atomic bombs to the Black Fog, the idea of holding yourself in an infection free zone, with food, water and light sounds perfect, built inside the biggest military camp in the country, as a warning to the government on who runs the show, although fools believes that the construction happened to create a harmonic relationship with the politicians.

In the middle of the cold and empty metal hallways, a Observatarium takes place, covering several meters of the gigantic room, an enormous and thin screen showing realistic videos of a snowy tundra, as a light snow falls on top of the trees. She's able to witness such landscape through the brother's eyes, again, a promise from long time ago.

Mafuyu serves as her eyes and protector since the girl came into the world, ignoring all else and silently focusing the eyesight so she can enjoy it to the max, a fake nature, yet it brings comfort.

Never allowed to try for friends, as the doctors redeem her immune system too weak to be close to others, so the young men turned into something more that just a brother, a friend, a father figure and someone who wished nothing more that her well being. The two would spend hours playing or watching television, in the beginning he didn't hesitated to believe in the sight story, and when the truth that Yuki never existed came to be, Mafuyu one more time jump to the ``It's okay`` part, talking with their parents and explaining what it meant, for the youngest they share more that blood, someone who took over all of possible roles, the burning feeling irradiating in the lower abdomen fades when she can rest her head on the teen shoulder, sure that nothing out there can bring harm to the siblings.

An imaginary gust of wind blows the Uzume hair, as the elder sibling beside smiles and laughs, revealing to be the one blowing the air, extending the playful moment to the max.

they cares not about what happened in the past or that others misses the old world, as not even the apocalypse could change the family routine, or the parents lack of attention to their children, since the beginning, he remembers the adult overworking themselves to the extreme, leaving the siblings without a guide, Mafuyu felt lost for years, not sure if those two people were his parents or just someone that shares the same blood, when Reira announced another pregnancy, he knew that the same fate waited the infant, a life of loneliness, and to never hear a parent saying ``I love you``, fearing this future, the teen took over the duty of raising a child by himself. Is no secret that the girl considers the brother as a father, showing this trust by only speaking next to him, as she craves the safety and reassurance that comes with the elder Uzume presence, and he never hide this honor that it feels to be someone comfort person.

The father, a charming Chinese men in his late forties approaches. Yi Han stands out thanks to the glorious dark hair brushed in a classic and refined hairstyle, a well chosen dark blue suit and the silk skin, leaving no space to comments about flaws, while the fellow scientists worries about work, the men prioritize the physical appearance over looking clever all the time.

How the men ignores the younger child enkindles rage within Mafuyu, ``A parent should always know where his children are``, yet the youngest replies with silence, non concern to hid the scorn growing towards the men. The siblings carries on their moment, Yi takes that as a defeat, looking over the future of the family, wondering if the methods of raising they are valid, or just a cruel way to treat an eleven year old child, a sensation of shame overcomes the men smooth persona, choosing to step away before any flaw can be shown in front of others.

The father-daughter relationship had been damaged years ago, as Yi Han refused to believed about the sight and her decision of no longer wanting to pretend to be a boy, claiming that such important decision should've been delayed due to insufficient age, blaming Mafuyu influence and the heat of the moment, the lack of support pushed her away from the him, hurt beyond word. With the head of Saga paying for everything, and how the brother hold her hand at every second, Miyako went forward with the new life, going through treatment and last year a surgery to end the circle, mistaking the corporation gesture for kindness, yet the goal strayed from that good, a way to keep the child under their wings and docile, a solution to make sure that she couldn't leave the shelter or abandoned the cause, to enhanced their trust further, the pharmaceutical company developed a tiny device into a specific area of the body, assuring that the technology would avoid the necessity of daily hormones pills. A factor that seal a bound between the girl and the company, seeing the CEO as a hero of some sort, someone that aid in the most dire moment, able to enjoy life as Miyako, a name picked by the brother. The solo demand made by the company happened to be a small thing, cooperation, and nothing more. A contract signed by the child to assist in a project to adapt the sight to soldiers, so they could hijack into infected minds and gain upper hand, despite believing in this supernatural gift, the head scientist cared not to make it a project, using it as a mere mean to an end.

One would think that the end of the world could bring people together, but it didn't, the mother spend most of the days working in the dream of manufacturing a vaccine, or at least something to retard the effect of the virus, while Yi Han makes sure that the shelter geothermal power plant remains in working order. Mafuyu takes the promise to an honorable level, even joining her in classes about electronics, mechanics, medicine and biology, subjects from the new educational system, a way to create a better future, so the new generation can grow knowing the most important lessons instead of dwelling in past history or unnecessary mathematics. Despite finding those five hours boring, she cherishes every second of it, as what follows it in the schedule its never pleasant.

When the experiment time begins, Mafuyu has to leave, not a single test is harmless, each holding their own amount of pain or discomfort. Recalling about yesterday, the scientist attempted to created a theory about how the brain connect itself with the sight, looking for a logical way to explain the ability of seeing through others eyes. A thin and silver needle penetrate through the lower eye until it reached the brain, the whole procedure took place under heavy anesthesia, yet the pain grew harder to withstand afterward, worse that an emotional hollowness, a feeling that shocked through the brain and the nervous system.

However, a worst one exist, The Helmet, or so she calls it, a metal device is introduced on the head, then electrical stimulus are send to the brain, a way to improve her eyes and recover a tiny fraction of the natural sight, it makes the body fake a scenario where each centimter of skin melts, every cell and fiber deteriorates, reaching an astonishing level of fading, only to be wake by the same pain, left with no choice, but to endure it the most brutal five minutes of the day, it happened several times, and it can't seen to get better anytime soon. The shock waves suffering is staggering, yet she judges as a necessary evil, willing to make this sacrifice, blind by manipulation and scared of the chance of Saga sending the family away from the shelter, not willed to put Mafuyu into harm ways, or to sacrifice the parents career.

Using the girl lack of direction and the endless search for a purpose to created a perfect harmony, as Miyako feels like a sheep in a forest full of werewolves, a part of her believes that the suffering can be justify, and the other she deserves the pain coming from those test.

Regardless of the brother encouragement words, remanding how important her life is, the child refuses to see in the same way, seeing herself as a pillar, holding back the corruption from crumbling under the one she loves, willing to continue with the penitence, just for a small glance of a better tomorrow.

[thatadhdfeel]

hi. i'm sorry for dropping my shit here, i just don't really have anyone i can talk to about my mental state at any given time. i'm bipolar, and i knew i had entered a dep episode for about 2 weeks, but i've been hitting rock bottom pretty hard for at least 5 days now. i wanted to go to the psyc' ER the other day but the one person i asked to come with me couldn't. i've been trying to sedate myself with meds as much as possible but it when it begins to fade it just.. yeah. 1/

i don't know. i just needed to put it out there i guess. especially because i tend to try to hide it as much as possible. a few of my colleagues were absent this week because they were ill, and i'm scared to take a sick leave, because i already took two since the start of september. i already feel so useless &worthless at my job, i fear it might give them an excuse to get rid of me. and i'm scared to add to the stigma surrounding bipolarity. and i'm scared to get fired if my bosses find out. /2

and i can't really think at the moment either. my mind goes blank all the time, i have this massive fog inside my head. i can't stop the voices in my head when they say i'm a piece of garbage and i'm just so tired, mentally and physically. i'm just overall scared, i guess. i don't want to spend the rest of my life dealing with this fucked up brain of mine. i'm exhausted. anyway, sorry... i hope you're okay, have a nice day /3

i’m sorry it probably wasn’t the place either, i just saw a few post with bipolar tags so i assumed… i’m sorry… /4

hey! sorry i took so long to answer. first and foremost, you never have to apologize for an ask like this.

i’m bipolar (recently diagnosed - no diagnosis as one or two yet, but i’m way closer to two. my psych is more of a believer in the “bipolar spectrum” which i agree with.) i know this is an adhd blog but it’s totally okay that you reached out. i don’t mind at all. :)

unfortunately the stigma is very real and heavy. but honestly most people aren’t apt enough to realize someone is bipolar imo. even doctors sometimes don’t recognize it. a lot of people assume it’s unipolar depression. if i’ve learned anything in life it’s that many people, honestly, are paying more attention to themselves.

balancing mental health with a job can be extremely tricky and it’s very unfortunate that we have to. sadly we do live under capitalism, which is a huge stressor on mental health. but please put yourself first. if you have to make up an excuse, go for it. your life is more important. ( and if something happens and you need resumé help, i’m pretty good at them and will provide services for free, if you’re comfortable with that.)

i would also like to make sure - when you refer to sedating with meds, is this under a doctors supervision? i assume if you have meds you’re seeing one - apologies if this is wrong - but communicating with them is extremely important. perhaps an adjustment is needed. i am not a doctor, i want to emphasize that. i’ve just had similar experiences and found frequent adjustments to be necessary.

i’m sorry they couldn’t come to the ER. is there anyone else you can go with? if not - please try to go anyways if you feel like you need it. i know that’s way easier said than done. but the world is a better place with you in it. i know you don’t feel like that right now, but i promise it’s true.

bipolar solidarity, and i hope you feel better soon. ❤️

[randomscropio]

If Moonflower was in The Bad Guys: part 11

Tiffany Fluffet: The bad guys go bust. And i, Tiffany Fluffet, am first on the scene.

Chief Misty Lugons: It's the end of the bad guys!

She slaps Mr. Wolf on the back and he yelps in pain.

The bad guys are being shoved into a police van there are two officers getting Moonflower in the van to insurer she won't escape. Moonflower's wings are bound so she can't fly away (and to make sure that everyone knows where she is even if she is camifloged).

Mr. Wolf looks down at his tail which is drooping. He turns around.

Mr. Wolf: I know we stole something but let me speak please.

The rest of the bad guys look at each other with confused expressions.

Mr. Wolf: But sadly, we were never even given a chance to be more than villains! If only someone could help the flower of goodness inside us blossom! Like, uh, I don't know, Mother Teresa? (shrugs) I guess the best thing you can do is lock us up for the rest of our hopeless lives.

Chief Misty Lugons: Yeah that's the plan!

Mr. Wolf: Wait, wait, wait!

The cheif picks him up and almost throws him in.

Professor Marmalade: Wait! He does have a point. Even though he is bad, basically walking garbage! Sorry I'm making a point.

Mr. Wolf: Do what you have to.

Professor Marmalade: But how do we know that they can't be good if they've never been given a chance? Why don't we try a little experiment Diane? I can teach them how to be good, and I'll show them at the gala for goodness, the hashtag charity event of the year, and we see how good they can be!

Cheif Misty Lugons: Professor no! Can't you see he's playing you?

Professor Marmalade: But it was my idea!

Mr. Wolf: It was his idea!

Cheif Misty Lugons: Only because you made him have it!

Diane Foxenton: Professor I'm not putting the city in danger for an experiment I mean, (points to Moonflower) if she wanted to she could kill everyone!

Moonflower: What makes you think I'd want to!?

Mr. Wolf: Excuse me, governor! I think I remember someone say, even trash can be recycled into something beautiful.

Diane Foxenton: Okay, but only because it's you, professor, and to avoid... temptation I think I should keep the golden dolphin until the gala.

Professor Marmalade: Of course! That's why you're the governor!

Mr. Wolf takes off his handcuffs.

Mr. Wolf: I believe that these belong to you cheif!

He goes into the van.

Diane Foxenton: Well I'll see you all there! Mr. Poodleton.

Mr. Wolf closes the door and Moonflower is right in front of him when he turns around.

Mr. Wolf: Ahh! Geez Moon, did you have to do that?

Moonflower: What are you planning?

Me. Wolf: Oh right.

He sits down on a seat.

Mr. Wolf: We're going good!

Moonflower: I'm not following.

Mr. Shark: Did you get hit on the head?

Mr. Wolf: What? N-

Mr. Shark: My cousin got hit on the head with an anchor and after that, he only swam in circles.

Mr. Wolf: Guys let me explain!

Th rest of the bad guys look at him.

Mr. Wolf: We're going to pretend to go good, and then we'll go into the gala and walk out, scott free, with

The rest of the bad guys in unison: The golden dolphin!

Mr. Wolf: You got it! The bad guys pretend to be the good guys, to stay the bad guys! You know what I'm saying?

Mr. Snake: Bad guys pretending to be good guys? It's the ultimate bad guys thing! Wolf! You're a genius!

Mr. Wolf: This is gonna be such an easy con that it's going to be a vacation!

Mr. Pirrhana: Oh oh oh! A concation!

The team laughs.

Mr. Shark: Ooooo! My parents met on a concation!

[incarnateirony]

awww, TeamFreeWill2pointO (you know that bronly asshole in a mask that got busted lying about all his M&Gs who has been conning fans to fill his closet with scripts they pay for, for years) thinks he knows more about Nexstar than Nexstar, because he's a dumbfuck and doesn't realize Pedowitz was still here doing his shit when everything got renewed, and the announcement is about Miller.

Sorry for your loss. Enjoy cancellation.

Funny you stopped trying to spin demo real quick though and are showing Walker appropriately in demo context. you know what the fuck else Pedowitz renewed then? Nancy Drew and Stargirl You know what just died to Miller

Learn to track events, you incompetent slob. PEDOWITZ ISNT THERE TO SAVE YOU LIKE HE WAS IN SPRING

what fucking direction do you think they threw him out over, you utter dumbfuck. blame stargirl PURELY on Arrowverse ending (A DECISION MADE DUE TO DECLINING RETURN IN RATINGS) if you want, but jesus FUCK, what's your excuse for Nancy Drew?

Your games are over no matter how much you talk and panic.

Let me help your IDIOT ASS OUT. The REASON CW WENT UNDER IS BECAUSE OF ITS SECONDARY MARKET METHOD AND NOT CARING ABOUT 18-49. NEXSTAR NEEDS 18-49 TO MAKE MONEY. PEDOWITZ TRIED HIS SHIT AND GOT STUBBORN AND GOT THROWN OUT.

Under what pretext beyond "I can't fucking follow events and the idea makes me piss my pants because I actually realize our show and ratings are garbage when I stop fluffing for my audience" do you propose "I don't think that's true" is a valid fucking response, dipshit.

Even KUNG FU has a better chance than you because it runs the same numbers in 9P, which should be running lower numbers, but Walker's just that much garbage. tv isn't run by unicorn farts no matter what shows anyone says they like dude. It's money. So put your fucking big boy pants on and start actually helping your show's ratings or don't bitch when it dies.

2po has now hit the point of desperate wailing where his opinions mean more than network execs, and Nexstar ISN'T opting into the industry standard, for... REASONS? Because 2po doesn't like it. That's his reasons. Because he's scared. That and his inability to follow timelines of events.

god does this dumbfuck even understand what 18-49 is for. does this dumbfuck get why this station sold. does this dumbfuck think ratings 18-49 only exist as a random competition for one demographic for fun. why the fuck does he think pedowitz got thrown out.

What in the blue blazing fuck does this dumbass think is happening.

dumb fuck sitting here going "well an exec likes a show!" oh fucking kay? Do you think businessmen renew shows they lose money on even if they like it? That's your best fucking desperate ass response? They're just gonna renew your shitty failing show out of the goodness of their hearts?

ENJOY. CANCELLATION. ASSHOLE.

YEAH. YOU'RE SCARED. GOOD. IT'S TIME TO PUT YOUR BIG PEOPLE PANTS ON AND STOP PRETENDING YOU CAN MANIPULATE DATA UNTIL YOU PASS OUT. IT'S HAPPENING DUDE. THE EXECS HAVE SAID IT, ARTICLES FINALLY CAUGHT UP AND SAID IT, NOW YOU'RE PISSING YOUR PANTS WONDERING HOW I KNEW IT FIRST AND JUST FLAILING AROUND DENYING PUBLIC REALITY JESUS FUCK.

GET THERAPY FOR YOUR ATTENTION SEEKING BEHAVIORS AND THE NARCISSISM THAT JET FUELS YOUR HABIT OF THINKING YOU CAN TALK OVER REALITY.

sorry buddy, I know it terrifies you that you might have to accept I have an inside line inside the new CW from whence I get first news, scoops, and scripts. Or that maybe, just maybe you should have listened to my years of history closer, to know the full drive behind the boycott beyond deancas that forced the network sale, or why I knew how to do it. I know it blows your entire conman grift out of the water. I know it's going to blow up every narrative you've ever lied or bluffed through. But it's time to stop lying, dude.

Ted's boys are in the house.

Sadly you're not media history literate enough to know what that even fucking means.

I regret to inform you, The BlueGreen Call is coming from Inside The Network

boy gee wizz that might leave you some other interesting questions on possibilities that to simple, pea brained fans like yourself, seemed impossible. something something... someone relayed something somewhere and it's on tv? idk. weird. man wouldn't that suck for you a lot if that was as true as everything else I've said, from pilot being real to the moral thematics and direction of the show to the 18-49 to--

but 2po isn't gonna ask how I knew not just about John and Mary and Dean before the Deadline leak, but the entire shape of said show he denied the whole time from learning from parents, letting go, moving on, the confession being structurally built in, about the final chance to say i love you. Things they hadn't even had a chance to write down yet, just discuss, but that were the entire point and reason for making it, and 2po squealed like a stuck pig in denial. He's just not gonna ask those questions, because he doesn't want those answers.

Yeah, you heard that right. Addressing the confession was on the List Of Reasons To Make This Fucking Thing. That's why it's built into the bones of every episode, you buffoon. You feel that yet? That's reality coming in to pull you down.

brace yourself. A storm is coming.

Well, kid... what you gonna do now?

You can't stop it.

it's too late.

while you were busy conning people into buying you scripts, people were actually working on shit that mattered. Whether you want to accept they had any part in it or not, that's fine, because it's not about the crown, it's about giving it back to the people now.

You aren't those people.

But believe who did it or not, up to you, it's still happening.

While you played silly clout games, CW got folded by activists in a coordinated boycott you screamed about and tried to make about jared. While you played silly clout games, it got sold to a syndicate demanding ratings. While you played silly clout games, your show fizzled in those ratings. While you played silly clout games, Jensen built an empire with help from more people than you can understand. While you played silly clout games, fans put heads together on pitches. While you played silly clout games, Nexstar cleared out CW. While you played silly clout games, TBS silently returned under the CW brand. While you played silly clout games, Jensen launched Destiel the Series and you've been screaming in denial about the contents since it first announced, and dodged reacting every time it's been a boot to your face. While you were playing silly clout games, the entire corporate reporting structure both network and WB was forced into a change that gave Jensen authority.

Hope those silly clout games and scripts were worth it. Maybe you can compile all of those scripts into a little shrine to heteronormativity you want to save in the old series, cuz sorry, it's dead in this one.

Some day, you lot will learn to think further ahead than your own impulsive gratification of shitting opinions into the internet and hoping someone agrees with you. But we sure are glad you guys are so oblivious, this would have been a lot harder to do if you knew to fight it the whole time or had any capacity of intelligence or coordination.

people deadass spent two years helping jensen trailblaze this path and you think crying on tumblr and twisting M&Gs you already proved yourself a liar on is gonna stop it. yeah sorry guys jensen consciously betrayed the straighties or whatever, sucks to be you, he's one of us now.

if you wanna say you're just here to spread misinformation and discontent, by all means buddy, cuz there's no way you're still this fucking stupid.

Robbie wasn't lying. This is revenge. And Jensen hired him for revenge. And people gave Jensen ideas for revenge.

Enjoy mon ami

greetings from the syndicate

you could say we exist in a bit of a Gray area.

but sure buddy. cling to your incompletely reported M&Gs from antis that got busted screaming about the content you said didn't exist. That'll definitely save you. Keep spinning interpretations of their fractal reporting, that's definitely going to give you a clear view of what's happening. It's been SOOOOO reliable for you so far, right?

oh what, you've been wrong about literally everything so far? neat. Wonder how that happens!! oh I've been right about everything since before you ever KNEW there was an anything to be right about? I knew the entire shape of this show before Deadline ever said a goddamn word? WEIRD HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN MAN????

RUB THOSE PERKY LITTLE BRAINCELLS OF YOURS TOGETHER.

or just seek comfort in your lies until your entire digital life combusts around you.

[hellfireclubmember3]

Finally getting back into writing my fanfiction!

Here's the latest chapter of my Eddie x Reader fic. Hope you enjoy! And don't forget to check out my earlier chapters on Wattpad. :)

The Other Wheeler

Chapter 19. I Was Made For Lovin' You

A paper rustled under my foot as I walked through the hall at the end of the day. I looked down to find a flyer advertising the upcoming prom. I didn't want to admit it to Eddie, but a small part of me really wanted to go to prom. In the past I never would have dreamt of attending prom with my boyfriend, but it was actually a possibility now. Knowing Eddie though, he would be totally against it. Just another opportunity for the popular kids to outshine the rest. I'm sure he wouldn't want any part of it. After quickly reading through the flyer, I crumpled it up, tossed it in the garbage can, and made my way out to the parking lot.

I met Eddie at his van. We were planning on going straight to his place after school since Nancy was planning on covering for me. "Ready?" Eddie asked with a grin.

"Very." I replied with the same enthusiasm.

Our plan was to go to his place, hang out for a bit, and eat dinner before loading up his gear and heading to his gig. We would meet the rest of Corroded Coffin there. 

For dinner, Eddie made us a box of mac and cheese. Something simple, but good. Just what I expected.

After we ate, Eddie excused himself to get dressed for his concert. While I waited, I looked around the trailer. My eyes landed on a small picture of a young Eddie standing next to his uncle. He was so cute when he was a little kid and I couldn't help my mind from imagining what our kids would look like. I snapped out of my fantasy when I heard Eddie call my name.

As I walked into his bedroom, he threw a t-shirt at me. I opened it up to reveal a white t-shirt with "Corroded Coffin" written on it with a black permanent marker. Eddie had clearly made it himself, and had spent a decent amount of time making the lettering look just right. I had never appreciated just how artistic he was.

"I thought maybe you might want to wear something else to the show tonight." Eddie suggested.

"That was sweet of you." I replied. "I'll put it on now."

Eddie looked at me timidly. "I can look away or step out for a minute." He offered.

I contemplated what he said. "That's okay." I said while looking directly at him.

As I removed my shirt and put on the one he had given me, Eddie's eyes never left my figure. Hardly a muscle moved in his body, but his jaw clenched as I swapped the shirts. Once I had the new shirt on, I turned to look in the mirror. "Perfect!" I smiled.

Eddie came up and hugged me from behind, then made eye contact with me through the mirror. "I couldn't agree more." 

After helping Eddie load his gear into the van, we made our way to The Hideout. The rest of the guys were already there by the time we arrived. I felt a little awkward as this was my first time really spending time with any of the guys outside of school. They each gave me a brief hello before unloading Eddie's gear and heading inside. 

I found a seat close to the stage and waited for them to finish setting up and begin. While I waited, I took in what was around me. There were very few people in the bar, less than ten for sure. Most of them seemed like the kind of guy who spent every night drinking their troubles away. It was a dank space, but I tried to focus on why I was there.

Eddie's voice boomed through the microphone. "Thanks for coming out tonight everybody. We are Corroded Coffin! Hope you enjoy." He then turned back to the band and they began their set.

I was happily surprised with how good they performed. Watching Eddie be in the zone was inspiring. Seeing somehow do something that they are so passionate about is a wonderful thing. Especially when that thing is playing the guitar because I would be lying if I didn't admit that he was extremely attractive in this moment.

After a few songs, Eddie returned to the microphone. "This next song is for someone very special who is joining us tonight." He looked towards me. "Y/N, this is for you."

I was so embarrassed. I wasn't one who liked attention and it felt ridiculous having him call my name out like that in a small bar filled with drunk middle-aged men. However, as soon as they started playing, my whole attitude shifted.

They began to play a cover of "I Was Made For Lovin' You" by Kiss. I recognized the song immediately and was filled to the brim with warmth and joy. There were not enough words to describe all the emotions I was feeling in that moment. All I knew was that I was the luckiest person in the world and I hoped Eddie knew what it meant to me.

When they concluded the song, I made a fool of myself applauding their performance loudly. Eddie blew me a kiss.

After their concert, as they were packing up, I joined them on stage. "That was so awesome you guys!" I complimented.

"Thanks Y/N!" Gareth replied. "Glad you could make it out."

"Me too." I said and then looked at Eddie with a smile. He smiled back.

Once they had finished cleaning up, Eddie and I got back into his van. "So am I taking you home, or are we going back to my place?" He asked.

For some reason I was surprised at the question. "Oh, um..." I debated on what to do. "Back to your place." I finally said confidently. Hopefully Nancy would remember just how many times I had covered for her and would come up with another excuse to give my mom. That's the best I could hope for anyway. 

Eddie looked at me with intrigue. "As you command." He replied exaggeratedly and then put the van into drive.

[madlymine]

Episode 3 - Recap

EP3: We get introduced to Mio who doesn't go to school anymore. & it's the FL's turn that week to visit her and give her printouts of what she missed. Strangely, the ML's hand gets burned/hurt when he tries to follow the FL into Mio's house! He tells the FL to just go in without him and he'll wait outside.

Apparently, Mio is a horror-hard-core fan and her room shows that. AND she is more socially awkward than the FL. The girls sit silently and eat a snack (offered by Mio's grandmother) super quick to end the visit, then the FL excuses herself and bolts out of Mio's room. https://youtu.be/y289In1OdZI

HOWEVER. FL remembers what happened to the ML and asks before descending the stairs:

"Did you put a charm against spirits or anything?" "Huh?" "Just wondering.... since you like scary movies." "Movies and reality are different." "That's true." "I don't believe in ghosts"

Mio then becomes excited and blabbers on about certain rules and scenarios in horror movies and ends her unfathomable lines with: "Vampires can't come into your house, unless you invite them in."

& Then her tone changes to sad: "But real life isn't like that. There are no rules. It's more horrific than a scary movie."

Me: a normal person would ask Mio about what she means or try to get her to open up because she is obviously suffering. BUT the FL is only thinking of herself. Her head works in a limited capacity after all.

FL: Can you elaborate on the last point? Mio: What? FL: About the vampires. Does that include ghosts? :o Mio: *this kid seems more messed up than me* FL: I've watched a movie recently and it was very confusing. There was no explanations. Mio: What's the title? FL: I forgot. It's a boy who dies and becomes a ghost and returns to his gf's side. They try to make things work between them.

Me: IT CAN'T WORK. but keep dreamin~

Anyways, the girls become friends when the FL tells her about all that happened between her and the ML, while pretending it's a movie plot.

Outsidu~ The right side of the ML's body is burned! & in that state *points at picture below* he asks her to kiss him lol FL questions his identity and he replies in a creeeeeepy voice: "If I nod, will you believe me?"

To add make us viewers more uncomfortable, he extends his hand towards her and asks her to kiss his burned hand without closing her eyes because she can't touch him.

The airhead complies but then his hand gets swallowed inside her head (it looks as weird as I'm describing it). In that state he tells her to allow him to go inside her.

SHE AGREES OF COURSE AFTER HE TELLS HER IT'S CUZ HE IS COLD. I apologize for the caps :p

The world goes purple for a couple of minutes. ML grabs her arm and tells her to run with him because they are late. Then FL finds herself alone entering a really dirty house with plates and garbage everywhere and a room with red light catches her attention and the moment she goes inside, she finds herself on the toilet with the ML in front of her standing!

ML gets out of the toilet booth and tells her that he was inside of her for a whole day and couldn't hold it in and went to the bathroom and that is when he got out.... The FL doesn't remember anything again.

When the FL comes out, the ML gives her a back-hug and tells her he was concerned that she might not return & he might be a vengeful spirit that would kill her somehow.

Airhead: you wouldn't. Ghost: but I can't remember anything. now and before. I might steal your body without knowing! AH: I know! You asked me both times before possessing me and I agreed. G: WHAT! I thought you had no clue. AH: I didn't want to hurt your feelings. but I hurt you anyway x3

Me: -_-'''

*FL's nose starts bleeding and she faints*

Me: *victory dance*

a year ago