#not to mention the times people would link to photoshop and replies were all saying its a virus & they had to format their pc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

paramountz-official · 3 years ago

Text

ParaMountZ Review 2021 - ⚠️Launch Discount & Huge Bonus⚠️

WHAT IS PARAMOUNTZ?

These days a quality instant funnel builder is… The only tool that anyone needs to build beautiful highly-profitable websites. And as a marketer that should be music to your ears for 2 reasons…

You can have complete control over the look and feel of your websites without having to learn any of the boring time-consuming codings…

The days of spending thousands of dollars on freelancer designers, developers, and website hosting companies are a thing of the past…

In 2021, a funnel builder is your one-stop-shop for creating beautiful sales pages, sales funnels, landing pages, and much more in seconds…

Even if you have zero web dev experience or knowledge. But there’s one big problem with all of the “corporate” funnel builders… They All Charge You A Monthly Subscription For Their Service

==> Special Discount: Order Today With Best Price And Special Offers

I wanted my own funnel builder that I could use to create a sizzling-hot website in seconds without the need to bust our photoshop or my HTML editor…

A that provided a “Wix like” builder without denting my wallet every month…

A builder that we could market to our internet friends and peers like you…

A builder that would enable you to stop paying out monthly to the corporate giants (who are clearly all in cahoots to suck every last penny they can out of us marketers)…

A builder that would enable you to fulfill all of your funnel builder needs for years to come without spending another dime on design, development, or hosting…

After 2 years of working closely with a team of world-class developers, ParaMountZ was born.

ParaMountZ is a world class Funnel/Page builder that gives you all of the functionality that you would expect from an expensive subscription service, for a tiny fraction of the price… I had the privilege to receive Beta access to this great cloud software ParaMountZ, and all I can say is GET THIS NOW!

>> Visit The Official Website Here to Place Your Order!

There’s just so much packed inside this one members’ area that I don’t even know where to begin. ParaMountZ helps you find hot offers from JVZoo, Clickbank and W+, and build high converting affiliate pages.

You can share these pages across 100 social media sites. Create visually appealing email marketing templates, high converting SMS marketing messages, build traffic-pulling eCommerce sites, and so very much more.

Almost everything you need to build and operate a thriving online business is available in the members’ area of ParaMountZ. I’m serious… You can operate a six figure online business from this one site.

I buy a lot of automation type products, and for the most part, they’re good products to have, but this membership eliminates the need to invest money in so many different products and sites.

(LIMITED SUPPLIES) Click Here To Order From Its Official Website

ParaMountZ Elite is setting a NEW standard for effortless online traffic, leads & sales. Marketers of ALL backgrounds are loving the results from this 100% legal, breakthrough app that AUTOMATES traffic, list building and conversions. But all good things come to an end.

It would definitely seem that this new all-in-one beginner-friendly programme from the well-known and respected software developer Mosh Bari can be the ultimate affiliate tool.

It finds successful higher-commission offers on the 3 major affiliate product platforms and then enable you to build irresistible high converting affiliate pages, create appealing campaigns and share it across 100 social media sites – an affiliates dream come true… It even build you traffic-pulling eCommerce sites, and so very much more

Get ready to drive unlimited traffic, capture unlimited leads and engage unlimitedly like never seen before. It’s a cloud-based software that automates social media marketing across Facebook, Messenger & Twitter for viral traffic, lead generation & sales.

HURRY UP GET EXCLUSIVE 50% DISCOUNT OFFER ON OFFICIAL WEBSITE.

ParaMountZ is the world’s biggest and most powerful social media marketing tool that allows customers to create highly Converting Ads Like Posts, Campaigns, Optin Pages, Interest Groups, Messenger Shops fast and easy in less than 2 minutes without paying a dime.

ParaMountZ is created with proven to convert ads like posts, CTA Powered Campaigns, Messenger Online Selling, Chatbots, Lead Generators comprising top platforms like Facebook, Instagram, Messenger and Twitter.

In the next parts of this ParaMountZ Review you’ll see full details, including a demo and proof of results from multiple marketers … including COMPLETE beginners making their FIRST online profits with this software.

HONEST PARAMOUNTZ REVIEW – MY OPINION: IS IT WORTH USING?

If you’re already using social media to promote your business, awesome. If you’re not – I totally get it. There are so many platforms and potential solutions, it gets pretty confusing. For best results, whether you’re new or experienced … it helps to SIMPLIFY.

What’s the biggest social network online? Facebook.

Which one has the most authority? Twitter.

How are MOST people connecting with brands & businesses? Messenger.

So instead of overcomplicating things, just focus on those three. ParaMountZ Elite is a unique software that brings you the best results from Facebook, Twitter & Messenger inside ONE dashboard. Instead of running different campaigns to drive traffic, create leads or sell … Now you can do ALL THREE with every post!

Innovative, platform-approved tech means your posts maximize traffic. Turn as many clicks into leads as possible … And do the selling FOR you with cutting edge automations.

Get For a Special Discounted Price Today (In Stock)

As powerful as the software is, it’s 3 step simple to use – and you can start seeing results within HOURS. Imagine leveraging MULTIPLE social media platforms for targeted traffic … And turning more CLICKS into LEADS than EVER before possible!

This groundbreaking tech gets you VERIFIED email subscribers from both Facebook & Twitter. Lets you create retargeting audiences on the fly … Build messenger lists at the same time. AND redirect new subscribers to ANY URL for impulse sales.

The World’s First 300-in-1 Traffic App lets you:

Send High-Quality Buyer Traffic to ANY Link or Offer

Make Consistent Sales Every Day with FREE Traffic

Build a Massive List in ANY Market (To Sell To the Same People Over and Over Again)

Grow an Influencer-Level YouTube Channel and Social Media Following

Hit Affiliate Leaderboards Overnight (Cash Prizes and Clout!)

Never Pay For Traffic Again

So for every campaign, you’re creating 3 lists in one WHILE making sales!

Grow your email list to skyrocket conversions on your promos

Build retargeting audiences you can market to with dirt-cheap FB ads

And create unique Messenger lists that get EVERY one of your messages with a 100% delivery rate!

Best part? This software works whether you’re posting organically OR running paid ads – so you get the best results from BOTH free and paid traffic.

What Makes It Different? 3 things, really.

1st – the posts this software creates are really amazing. They stand out and get maximum attention – job #1 for social marketing.

2nd – the lead generation technology is INCREDIBLY slick. Every click on an image or carousel post gets you an email subscriber with VERIFIED contact info. Every COMMENT on a post gets you a Messenger lead, that you can market to and get 100% delivery rates.

3rd – this software is BUILT for conversions. You can filter new messenger leads into ‘interest groups’ based on their replies. Add new email leads to ANY list you want … Use the INCLUDED chatbot to run fully-automated messenger promo campaigns to turn new leads into buyers.

And create retargeting audiences from EVERY click on EVERY post … meaning this software maximizes your conversions from EVERY possible channel.

Ask yourself, can you afford to miss this ‘no brainer’ opportunity? At a tiny one time payment to access ParaMountZ, investing in software is a complete no brainer. I don’t need to “sell” it to you. The demo above does all of the talking…

Most web hosts cost more than that for a month and they don’t even give you any ability to instantly create wonderful high-performing websites like ParaMountZ does…

If you’re a marketer who invests in either web hosting, a Funnel builder, or a designer or a developer then you’re going to save a huge amount of money this year alone by investing today…

(ACT NOW AND SAVE) Click Here To Get at a Discounted Price!

Over several years, you’re going to be saving multiple-thousands of dollars.

Even if you’re yet to build your first website and simply have “plans” to start making it online in the future, you should grab this exclusive offer today. If you do, it means you never have to spend another penny on web development costs…

ParaMountZ enables you to build a beautiful website in seconds… Prior to creating ParaMountZ; Mosh and I spent thousands of dollars per month on web development. We were forever spending money on designers and coders for our landing pages, offers, and funnels…

That’s not to mention the hosting costs. But with ParaMountZ we can instantly create beautiful sales pages and landing pages in super-fast time, despite the fact we don’t have design or development expertise…

PARAMOUNTZ OTOS AND PRICE

For a limited time, you can grab ParaMountZ with early bird discount price in these options below. Let’s pick the best suited options for you before this special offer gone!

Front-end: ParaMountZ ($17)

OTO 1: Limitless Edition ($19)

OTO 2: The Lazy Rich ($67)

OTO 3: Autonomous Luxury Edition ($29)

OTO 4: Robot Upgrade ($77)

OTO 5: DFY Store ($67)

OTO 6: Jericho Super Blaster ($39)

OTO 7: Click & Go ($29)

OTO 8: 1K Every Day ($19)

OTO 9: Reseller License ($29)

PARAMOUNTZ REVIEW CONCLUSION AND ULTIMATE HUGE BONUSES

Thank you so much for reading my ParaMountZ Review. I really hope it did help you with your buying decision. This system is coming out with many bonuses for the early bird. Take your action ASAP for the best deal.

==> Read More Here: Don’t Miss Out Today’s Special Offer <==

#ParaMountZ ParaMountZ2021 ParaMountZReview ParaMountZBonus ParaMountZDemo ParaMountZBonuses

1 note · View note

psychicprincesscreation · 4 years ago

Text

NUANCE

Edit 7 (7/12): I didn't realize I kept breaking the link when I was trying to come up with a good title lol my bad.

Last two titles: "I'm not your bass-slut anymore." (That didn't exactly fit the narrative.)

"Don't fuck your idols. :)"

Since everyone is talking about accountability, let me put it succinctly: I was 22, this was consensual for me, I was a "groupie" who knowingly emotionally cheated on my then-bf with Bassnectar for months, I broke it off & moved out because I expected more from the relationship than I ever got.

As one person on IG stated: I was just a groupie whose fantasy didn't go the way I wanted it to. Lol it's true, but that isn't the whole story.

I know it's easy to focus on how I was "old enough to know better" and the harmful choices that I made, but don't forget that Bassnectar actively pursued me even after finding out about my boyfriend -- I'm sure he wouldn't have had any problem finding a single girl to talk to instead, given his stature.

He offered me concert tickets, plane tickets, money to buy an apartment, he told me to email him as often as possible, he told me to keep everything a secret and to lie to my boyfriend over and over.

He tried to "save" me with controlling advice about eating, sleeping, not partying (ironic, considering that he is a DJ) not pursuing music journalism, not hanging out with any male friends whatsoever, where I "should" work. This was all before we ever met in person.

People don't realize how hard it is to say no to your idols, especially when they are CONSTANTLY offering gifts that I considered very extravagant at my age.

This wasn't a normal affair; I had absolutely nothing to offer Bassnectar but myself, yet he spoke to me like I was a star. He told me we could "go deep" and that he wanted to "mate" with me.

Of course my dumbass young-adult drug-addled mind is going to fall in love with the idea of him.

CONSENT IS NOT DEFINITIVE. I didn't consent to a relationship as two normal people sneaking around. I became a cheating asshole who was misled by a rich & famous liar. I never said what I did was right -- in fact, I made it very clear that I did something wrong, too.

I also said that my story is NOT as bad as the other accusers'. I absolutely do NOT think that I had it worse than anyone else. I think my story is important because it shows that his behavior wasn't limited to people underage.

Hopefully my candor denotes honesty and by admitting my faults in this situation, people can see that Bassnectar's emotional manipulation was real and calculated, and most certainly did not start or end with me.

Side note: Apparently Bassnectar DOES cuddle... I guess he just didn't want to cuddle me that night. Ouch! :)

Edit 6 (7/12): Too many typos to fix so I'm just leaving them now lol. Added detail.

Edit 5 (7/12): Just because I say I'm slutty and I like sluts, doesn't mean every girl/women who was involved with Bassnectar is a slut. I'm just owning that label to change MY narrative for MYSELF. I really don't think there's anything wrong with being slutty -- it's always the rest of the world that has a problem.

I wrote this stream-of-consciousness, so I wanted to mention that sometimes my statements that involve other women may seem brusque, but I'm on the women's side. I mean to convey disdain for the way Bassnectar treated us (as a secret "harem",) rather than jealousy or annoyance toward the women. I hope it comes off that way, but I don't know who is reading this and how some might interpret my words.

Edit 4 (7/10):

Removed names. A story mentioned in this post wasn’t true. Either just a lie (to make someone look bad,) or I don’t remember it properly ‘cause it’s been so long. If it was my fault: my bad.

Edit 3 (7/7):

FIXED SOME TYPOS!

Edit 2 (7/7):

I like sluts. Stop making us feel bad for wanting love *and sex, too.

Another thought: Bassnectar probably pursued a relationship with me because I had a boyfriend. Therefore, I would be more secretive and would have to take some of the responsibility and guilt in this situation, too. And that is true. I do feel guilty about the lying and sneaking. I think that it was inevitable that I would break up with my then-boyfriend, but it really wasn’t Bassnectar’s place to accelerate the break-up by giving me the impression that Bassnectar would be my boyfriend instead. This wasn’t friendly advice given to me by someone older, this was tactical. It makes me wonder if a lot of girls/women don’t want to come forward because they are afraid that the truth will come out about their own affairs?

Don’t be afraid to tell your story because women-hating assholes try to dissect and expose your secrets in an attempt to discredit you! Bassnectar is the one who needs to be exposed for HIS indiscretions -- this is about what HE did wrong. Edit 1 (7/7):

- Bassnectar told me that he was coming to NYC and because we had an online relationship, I thought that he was coming to see me. My friend told me today that Gov Ball 2013 was the same weekend, so I think he may have actually been in NYC for that reason (I don’t think he was scheduled to play on the flyer,) but I was delusional about it. - I removed the screenshot of his phone number from the post because I don’t want to violate any doxx rules. I am still willing to compare this phone number with other women/accusers to corroborate our stories. :) - This is my story told from my perspective. I was an adult and I’m not posting this with the intent of legal action, or revenge (although I do admit that this relationship was devastating and heartbreaking for me.) I just want people to know what kind of person he is. - My story is not as harrowing as some of the other accusers’, but that doesn’t make it invalid. - Even now, reliving everything hurts me and I wish I could say that it was real, but now that I’m older I am wise enough to know that it was all lies. - I stand with the women who Bassnectar has hurt in similar, or worse, ways.

----

My relationship was short-lived, but it was so eventful for me that I remember it clearly. I'm mentioning many minuscule details because I think that could help prove the validity of other victims' stories.

Writing in bullet points because it's easier for me to sort through the memories. I'm calling him Bassnectar because the "Lorin" I was talking to is someone that I feel hurt and appalled by now.

• I don't have social media/email screenshots because I deactivated my Facebook and Twitter years ago. Bassnectar asked me specifically to delete our emails because his "girlfriend had caught him" and asked me to get rid of the evidence because she was "demolished." (I will go into a bit more detail about that later on.) • I don’t have a “smoking gun” that skeptics are looking for, but that’s what happens when someone asks you to keep everything a secret and delete everything that shows you were communicating.

----

• This happened in 2013 over many months, plus Bassnectar texted me a few times about once a year after our "relationship" ended. • I was 22 at the time. I'm from NYC and frequently went to clubs, shows, events, and festivals with my then-boyfriend (who I lived with) & the same group of friends. • Bassnectar was one of our favorite artists and we'd seen him perform several times in several states. • My friends had a private Facebook group where we'd tell each other about shows and make arrangements to travel/meet up/stay over each other's places. • I was very interested in music journalism at the time and occasionally wrote show reviews for my friend's online music magazine. • I actively used Twitter. I basically tweeted at every DJ we liked, and always posted reply screenshots in our private Facebook group to share with my friends. • Things became complicated with my then-boyfriend, but we still lived together. We had recently gotten back together around the first time Bassnectar DM'd me on Twitter.

• Bassnectar responded to a Twitter pic I posted of our mini-fridge with a Bassnectar logo sticker and said that he "liked my fridge" or something. • I screenshotted this and posted it in my group because he was the biggest artist who had responded to me at that point. • I thought I could use this as an opportunity to interview him for my friend's mag. • After I already posted the screenshot in my group and had responded to his DM, he sent another message asking me not to screenshot him because he "hates that." • I deleted the screenshot from the friend Facebook group. I stopped screenshotting and sharing our conversations with my FB group immediately after he asked. • I continued to chat with Bassnectar via Twitter and said that I was a big fan of his merch and that I bought several things at all the shows I've attended. • I asked to interview him at some point in the conversation, and he skirted over the request. • Instead, he gave me his email (bassnectar2012) and asked me to send him merchandise ideas. • I slapped together a few simple, quick ideas on Photoshop or something and sent them to him.

(I don’t know how to embed a picture on Tumblr lol -- will update.) • You can see that the image I sent is no big deal, and all the files were similar, but he responded as if they were the greatest things he had ever seen. He definitely made me feel special and talented. • We emailed regularly and relatively frequently for days. • Emails are exchanged back-and-forth and eventually I asked to interview him again and he agreed. • I gave him my number and he called me. My then-boyfriend was aware that I was in contact with Bassnectar, with my original intention of interviewing him. • My then-bf was in the room when Bassnectar called me for the first time. • Bassnectar didn't want to be interviewed; he wanted to get to know me. I agreed to just chat at first. • He told me not to call him Bassnectar because that was his "band" and that I should call him Lorin. • At some point he asked if I had a boyfriend and I told him no, even though things were complicated with my then-bf and we were technically together. > I know I'm going to be chastised for doing this, but I've learned years ago that I made a bad choice. Honestly, I still wanted an interview, and I am well-known for leading with my sexuality. This is when I started becoming deceitful with my then-partner. Simply put, I was just more enticed by the idea of advancing my career, and eventually the allure of potentially being Bassnectar's girlfriend, so lying seemed best. Just because I’m flawed, too, doesn’t mean Bassnectar did nothing wrong.

• My then-bf confronted me about not saying that we were together. I felt guilty and the next time I spoke to Bassnectar, I confessed that I was back together with my then-boyfriend and I wasn't single. (I don't remember if it was via text or voice call.) • Bassnectar was upset that I lied, but continued to talk to me nonetheless through text and email.

• He made me feel like my writing was profound and touching, and that we were falling in love. • He would tell me that he wanted to "bring me the sun," or "get me a puppy." He said things that were romantic and poetic and I felt heartened to respond to what I thought was love. • He said he had $10,000 in his mattress and he wanted to get me an apartment in NYC, so I didn't have to live with my then-bf anymore. • He would text me before and sometimes immediately after he played shows then say he was going to sleep by like 12am (typically.) It was easy to keep up with where he was playing via social media. • He offered to fly me to his show in Red Rocks so I could attend. (I didn't accept.)

• He called me from time-to-time and told me not to tell my then-bf who I was speaking to. • One day he had me call a different phone number, which he said was his "home phone." • He told me a story about a beautiful girl named (removed)? Who he had a falling out with because she mentioned that Bassnectar told her that he didn't like Steve Aoki. (I don't remember that story in detail -- I think he was telling me so I wouldn't tell other people when he talked about other artists.) > Edit (7/10): This person messaged me to say that’s not what actually what happened between them. • One day I was speaking to Bassnectar on the phone and didn't answer when my then-bf called on his way home from college classes (I always answered right away.) He asked who I was speaking to and I admitted "Lorin."

• When I called Bassnectar back, he became annoyed that I told the truth and said that I should tell my then-bf that I meant my girlfriend Lauren instead. • I began to sneak around more, lie more often about who I was speaking to on the phone, and texted or emailed Bassnectar almost every single day. • He said we should skip Camp Bisco 2013 and just spend time together. (Obviously anyone who attended Camp Bisco knows that didn't actually happen lol.) • He was flirtatious, charming, and always offered me tickets to events, or sometimes to fly me to where he was. I didn't accept any of this then.

• He told me that I shouldn't do any drugs, not even smoke weed. All of my friends were casually experimenting back then, and I was equally as candid as I am now about everything I did. He told me not to do drugs at his shows, or any shows, and especially not around guy friends. • Me and my friends traveled to see a show in Philly and stayed with friends. When I texted saying I was mostly with guys (my friend group was mostly guys at the time,) he asked if I "felt safe" and offered to get me a hotel. I thought it was unusual because I always felt very protected by my male friends. • He told me that I shouldn't hang out with guy friends, or have guy friends at all. • He told me that guy friends all wanted to sleep with me and I didn't realize it. • He told me I should eat healthier and exercise regularly -- it was very weird and controlling. He just didn’t want me to be myself. • He told me that he had a girlfriend who had two abortions. I think because we were talking about relationships? • He told me that he grew up in a hippie commune and was Christian and he questioned his priest and that his mom was a poet laureate. It just seemed like he wanted me to get to know him at the time. • He told me I was co-dependent with my boyfriend and that I needed to become independent and move out. • He told me I should make lists of my life goals as an independent person and email it to him. • He told me not to tell anyone about us talking. I told all of my girl friends, but it was a "girl code" situation and none of the guys or my then-bf knew what was going on. • We talked A LOT and often, but all of this only happened in a matter of months.

• Time passes and our emotional affair eventually becomes physically intimate when he says that he is going to fly to NYC. This is JUNE 2013! He played at Electric Zoo 2013, but that wasn't until Labor Day, so I'm not sure why he really needed to go to NYC, but it definitely wasn't for a show because me and my friends would have been there. > NOTE (7/7): My friend read this and mentioned that Gov Ball 2013 was the weekend before, so there is a good chance that Bassnectar was already in NYC for some reason and didn't actually come to see me personally like I was led to believe. lol.

• He alleged that he would see me again around Labor Day when he came back for EZoo, too.

• I am from Staten Island, and wasn't totally familiar with Manhattan's layout at the time, but I think that the hotel he was staying at was in Midtown. It's been 7 years since this happened, but I tried my damnedest today to figure out exactly which hotel it was -- there are soo many in that area alone. • If Bassnectar says any of this isn't true, then he's lying because there will definitely be a plane ticket or something with his name on it to NYC in JUNE 2013. > NOTE (7/7): I thought he was there to see me specifically, so the dates he told me was staying in NYC are probably not 100% accurate, but there is definitely some proof somewhere on his end that he came to NYC for whatever reason. The lies he told me are just coverup to make me lose credibility if this ever came out.

• He said he had a hotel for three days. I think it was a Mon-Wed? I took off work those days so I could see him everyday that he said he would be in NYC. If he has no record of checking into a hotel around the time I'm citing, then his manager probably did it for him. I believe his name is Carlos. (I'm going by the memory of what Bassnectar told me.)

• Bassnectar met me in person at the Staten Island Ferry (Manhattan side) and we walked to Battery Park and sat on a bench and talked. • I felt extremely shy and awkward because I knew that by meeting up in-person, I had given up with my now-ex. The whole thing was conflicting and unfair to so many people, but it was too late now. • Bassnectar frequently complimented me in person. He said things like, he was dying to smell my neck, that he loved my wrists because they were delicate like a bird's frame. • He said that he felt self-conscious that he would be recognized because he's used to being recognized in crowds. • He would pet and caress me, but didn't try to kiss me in public. • He told me that he got his hair washed at a hair salon and he gave the hair dresser a ($50 or $100?) tip and looked in the window to see her reaction and she was crying because she was so happy. • He convinced me to go back to his hotel. We took a cab there. It didn't take that long, which is why I'm convinced it was Midtown. He never told me which hotel it was, but I didn't realize it was actually because he didn't want a trail back to him. I guess it worked.

(I'm about to get very detailed about my memories, so trigger warning for making people feel uncomfortable.)

• When we got to his hotel, he became physical with me very quickly, but he said he wouldn't kiss me first. That I had to do it first. So I did. • It progressed into kissing, cuddling, him touching me all over in bed with our clothes on. He dirty-talked a lot. I also remember that he moaned and grunted a lot, and I wasn't used to any of that. • At one point, I untied his hair and let it down and he joked that I was making sure he was really Bassnectar and not his assistant that I was meeting. • He told me about his go-go dancer friend who had fake boobs. I can't remember why. • I remember him kissing me against the wall, and he said something like, I want to fuck you against the wall and hold you up with only my dick. It was way too specific to forget. (It didn't happen, though.) • We inevitably had full-on sex after the on/off touching/kissing/talking. • He said he didn't want to wear a condom at first, but he thought he should. We did, but it felt like a test to see what I would say. • I remember that he wanted me to have an orgasm, and I instructed him which position worked best for me. • He orgasmed by having sex with me from behind and asked me to look back at him. I remember him draping his long hair over my back. How could I forget that? -_- • One of my girl friends texted me ("How are you plants doing?" was our code phrase) to check in and make sure I was okay because she knew where I was. It was monumental for me, so I told her it was great. • I sat on his lap while he looked at his laptop. • We had these deep conversations about life, and love, and the future and it seemed so real to me at the time. • I remember that I told him I was unsure if we could be boyfriend/girlfriend because he was so much older than me (I think he was 35 at the time?) • He told me about about a girl he loved named X who was also around my age. I didn't think it was that weird because I was convinced he still really liked me best, but he probably had so many "Xs" and I was just another one. • At some point, he commented on Facebook (or Twitter?) in response to someone saying he was Illuminati. Honestly, it was like we were two people hanging out because of how normal everything felt after the sexual tension was gone.

• I remember having dinner with him at the restaurant across the street and talking about wanting to be a writer and he said I CAN'T WRITE ABOUT HIM EVER. (So it wasn't normal after all.)

• I remember, back at the hotel, he asked me perverted questions like, can you show me how you make yourself orgasm? He asked me to just demonstrate on his hand so he knew what to do next time. • I don't remember much more because I wasn't planning to stay. • My other girl friend had a job interview that day and we decided to meet at the ferry to take it home together. • On my way out, he walked me to the elevator and he gave me $50 to take a cab to the ferry and to use for a cab when I came back to see him tomorrow. (For my fellow New Yorkers who doubt this story, no, that wasn't enough fare for both trips, so the amount is definitely the truth lol.)

• I went to see Bassnectar again the next day. When I asked him for the hotel address or name, he wouldn't give it to me directly. He said it was because of people stalking him or something. I don't fucking know but it was obvious confusing bullshit and I think he gave me an address that was about a block away. I think he even said he would tell the cab driver the address over the phone. There was a lot of runaround to avoid saying the exact address. (Now the reason why seems obvious.) • My details are a bit fuzzy at this point because I remember meeting him outside the hotel and going up together, but I forget why we met outside and why we were both confused about which street the other person was standing on. • We went up to the hotel room, he worked on music on his laptop, while I sat on his lap and read Trainspotting on my Kindle. • He let me listen to what he was working on, but I don't remember it. I just remember that he was working with female vocals. • He told me he had to meet his guy friend in Williamsburg because his friend was making him lobster. Looking back, it was probably another girl.

• I asked to stay because I wanted to spend more time with him. I texted my now-ex-bf (who I still lived with) that I was staying with my friend. • Bassnectar said that normally he would say no, but for some reason he agreed and left me in the room with the room key and all his stuff. He either really trusted me, or really trusted how much control he had over me to leave me with his laptop. • I left at one point to get pizza, and came back. I watched TV, but couldn't sleep. He got back some hours later and he was drunk off wine, but I just wanted to cuddle and sleep. • He jokingly thanked me for not stealing his things. • Apparently Bassnectar DOESN'T cuddle and made that a point, but he did sleep in bed with me for a bit, before moving to the other bed in the middle of the night. (There were two beds in this hotel room.) • For anyone else who had sleepovers with Bassnectar, you know that he sleeps with his own fans for the white noise. So we slept in separate beds with his own personal fans on. It was all very bizarre. • We didn't have sex this day at all.

• The next morning I went to Duane Reade while he was still sleeping so I could get toiletries and shower since the sleepover was impromptu. • He had a meeting with someone (manager?) who was supposedly coming to stay in the room later that evening? (It was probably another girl though? idk)

• When he got back, he made me go over the list of accomplishments and goals he asked me to email to him. • He told me that I shouldn't be worried about finding someone to be in love with and it should be a lower priority on my list. • He told me that I should get a job at a restaurant or American Apparel or something and get a shitty starter apartment with only girls. • He said that finding an apartment that was pet-friendly shouldn't be a priority at all. I had a pet cat so if I moved out, that meant I would have to leave my cat behind, but that didn't matter to him. • He told me that if I wanted a serious boyfriend, I shouldn't let him see my legs or have sex with him for a long time. • When he finished life-coaching me, we watched a movie together. • He chose Spring Breakers because he was supposedly asked to do the musical score for it and turned it down (that's what he told me.) • At one point in the movie, Vanessa Hudgens jokingly gestures to her friends that she's giving a blowjob, and Bassnectar said he "didn't understand why girls sucked dick." • We had sex once more, more quickly than the first time and with much less romance. I can't remember much because I just remember feeling sad about leaving soon and like he was blowing me off suddenly. • We took a shower together after.

• I packed up my stuff and before I left he gave me $1000 in cash without warning and told me I could use it to help put a down payment for an apartment or something, but I should pay him back because it would be "good for me." > Looking back, when he left for a short while that morning, it was probably to take out cash to give me when I left. • He didn't walk me to the elevator this time and he sat on his laptop while I left feeling very cheap, stupid, and crushed.

• Time passes and we talk less and less. I'm heartbroken, but still make moves to find a job and move out of my ex's ASAP. • I email Bassnectar a diatribe saying I'm feeling hurt and abandoned. I say that I felt betrayed that he made me think we were essentially going to be together after I left my boyfriend and it turned out to be all lies. • I'm having lunch with friends when he calls me and is angry saying that he told me what I should do to make my life better and that he can't just give me a job or do anything for me and that I need to do things for myself. • My friends walk over to the car where I'm on the phone and when I say I'm ready to go, he asks who I'm speaking to and I say, "my friends." • He yells at me and asks why I'm talking to him on the phone when my friends are around (he asked if he could call and I said it was okay, I didn't know we were supposed to be alone.) I tell him I will call him back. • I text him and ask to call back and his mood flipped and he's suddenly super kind and apologetic and tells me he just wants me to be independent. He reminds me that I'M the one who told HIM that he was too old for me and we can't be boyfriend and girlfriend. • I am heartbroken all over again, but I move on with my life and move out within the next month or so.

> I actually did get a waitressing job as per his suggestion and saved money from that + the grocery store I already worked at and moved to BK by August 2013. I didn't use the money he gave me at first because I thought it was a reason for us to see each other again, and I was afraid to spend it in case I couldn't earn enough to pay him back by the time I saw him. (I never saw him again, though.) > In case you're wondering, I did spend it eventually when I started to resent him for blowing me off.

• I speak to Bassnectar very rarely, and only via text. He doesn't call anymore, even when I ask. • One day while I'm at work, he sends me a video of a beach he's supposedly vacationing at. • When we DO speak, he asks for nudes, usually. • When I send them, he says he feels guilty since “he has a girlfriend” and that we should stop. • Contact is so infrequent, when we catch up about my life, he gets annoyed if I mention I'm seeing any guys, but I never think he really cares because he stopped caring about me a long time ago. (If he ever did at all.)

• I still tried for months to maintain any kind of relationship with him because I truly thought we had something special, but he was always too busy for me. It fucking sucked because he was always in the back of my mind now that I was *~independent~* like he said he wanted me to be so many times.

• One random day when I was too busy to chat with him, I remember he actually DID call me because he said he lost a sound file and wanted me to record myself saying "I really like it." A few times to use on a track. I guess I took too long to get back bc 15 mins later, he texted to say he got it from someone else. I couldn't do it anyway because I was dealing with some other personal stuff. I forgot about it soon after. • I didn't listen to the album NSVB for a long time after it came out bc I was still hurt, but when I did.... I heard that fucking sound bite in whatever song it's on (I really don't care to know) and it fucked me up. • I was conflicted thinking, shit, did I blow my last chance for "us" ? I was still hung up on this asshole as if he were just some ex because of that emotional manipulation. • Would that have solidified what we supposedly had? Or would that have just been another way he used me? I began to resent him.

• Fast forward a few months and I'm drunk with my girl friend at home and text Bassnectar for the lols. I say that I should ask him for tickets to BASSLIGHTS 2013 in VA to make up for him being such an asshole. • Surprisingly he agrees on the condition that I only go with girl friends, don't do any drugs, and say that the Tix are left for me because I interviewed him. (Don't forget that no interview ever happened!)

• Before Basslights, he texts me and even asks me what songs he should play and I don't realize he's just stringing me along. Presumably it was just another plot to hook up. • Before we leave for VA, my friend who is driving admits that one of her OTHER friends secretly knows Bassnectar so we might be able to get into some party or backstage. Sooooo I guess she was another one of his "harem" that he was having a secret relationship with. (I don't mean anything negative towards that girl/woman, just that Bassnectar probably saw us this way and was playing *at least* the two of us at this time.) • My friends and I drive from NYC to VA and miss Bassnectar's set the first night because we arrived late, but the Tix were waiting for me at the box office. • If you get Bassnectar's guest list for Basslights 2013, my real name is on there. I'm sure a lot of other girls he manipulated are on there, too. • Bassnectar texts me and asks what I think of the show and I say I missed it. • He says he was thinking of me a lot during the show. • He texts me saying I should let him "vroom vroom in my girl power." Obviously he's alluding to sex, and I show the text to the friend who was at my place when I asked him for the Tix. He won't send a cab to get me at my hotel when I say sure, though, because he "has a girlfriend" again and he would feel bad. Maybe he was annoyed that I missed his set, maybe he picked someone else, maybe he actually was with his gf? Whatever. • I told him I didn't feel comfortable texting like that anymore because he said he had a gf. • He tells me I'm a good person.

• I am so hurt that I don't answer his texts at all anymore. • We go to Basslights night 2 and I get suuuuper fucked up with my friends (because fuck him) and have an awesome time and disassociate Bassnectar from his controlling bullshit. • I ignore him all the way back to NYC and just text to say I'm home. • He sends me an URGENT text saying that his gf suddenly found out about his gross infidelity and begs me to please delete all of our emails and texts. • I'm stupid and kind and fucking over him so I do it. He knew I would because he knew I was too nice of a person not to. • Bye bye evidence, though. :( I regret deleting those emails even now because I knew this misconduct shit would come out eventually with him.

• LOTS OF TIME PASSES. Now and again, Bassnectar would text me just to say what's up and I'd barely respond. This only happened approximately once a year. • I'm pretty sure this was just to make sure he was on my good side and there wasn't a chance that I was going to expose him. • I think the last time he texted me first was all the way back in 2016.

• The last few times we spoke were when he had a cancer scare and I texted to say sorry. • When I went to Moonrise Festival, I asked if we could meet and he blew me off. It's been so long, I didn't really expect him to say yes, but it was worth a try. • When me and my friends went to Electric Zoo and he closed, I texted him saying that we couldn't hear well from where we stood and left early. I think he was offended because he replied saying that no one else complained. • The last time I spoke to him, I knew he was playing at an event near me and asked for tickets again so I could see him and he said he would be with his girlfriend. It was a one-off thing and I thought it was worth the try. •There were no cordial conversations in-between the times I contacted him at all. Just me being lonely and single and still hanging on to this idyllic version of him that never fucking existed in the first place.

• I'm much older now and I know that a lot of this happened because of choices I made, but I was 22, starstruck, in a confusing relationship, partying, and desperate for an ethereal love that I sought in that music scene.

• I bet Bassnectar specifically targeted girls like me because (at least in my case) I was depressed, pumped full of mind-altering chemicals, pretty, and lonely. He acted like I was a unique, artistic, lost soul and he made me believe that he was the only one who could save me.

• At 22, you don't realize that a man 13+ years older than you shouldn't be asking you to keep your conversations a secret from everyone, asking you for nudes, asking you to lie to/break up with your boyfriend, inviting you to hotels, offering you gifts, and straight up giving you cash that you didn't ask for.

• But that man DEFINITELY knows he's doing something wrong, otherwise he wouldn't be sharing that hush money with you, or asking you to hide and delete everything.

• Because he would text me once in a while saying something like, "You cross my mind all the time," it would be enough for me to hang on to this hope that *maybe* there was still a chance. I couldn't see that it was just another manipulation tactic that worked well on me because I was still feeling the effect of the emotional annihilation from so long ago. :(

• I loathe how he made me feel for so long and it breaks my heart to know that there are so many other girls who were taken advantage of in worse ways by this egotistical LIAR in his position of power. Seriously, Bassnectar, fuck you.

ALSO: not sure if this was his burner phone or what, but here are the last two digits of the # he always contacted me with (sent in the DM). If any other victims want to corroborate by comparing numbers... Let me know.

(I REMOVED THE SCREENSHOT OF THE PHONE NUMBER IN CASE IT VIOLATES ANY DOX RULES, BUT I CAN SEND IT TO YOU DIRECTLY IF YOU ARE CONTACT WITH ME!) :)

---

#eab #bassnectar #metoo

13 notes · View notes

jaqdawks · 4 years ago

Text

added a short story bellow :)

content warnings: alcohol and implied nsfw acts, also mention of death.

—————————————

Nickolai awoke in someone else’s bed with a splitting hangover. He sat up and looked around the unfamiliar room. He checked if it was possibly Alcor’s, until he realized he didn’t know what Alcor’s bedroom looked like at all. He also didn’t know what most of Alcor’s flat looked like; he’d only ever been as far in as a single hallway.

For a few minutes, Nickolai fought the hangover to remember who he was with and what identity he’d assumed. All he could remember was Noah. He had a fake ID that said Noah, and his false identity as a Noah was a man who fixed computers. Noah was a common name though, and he couldn’t remember who the Noah here was.

He didn’t think about it much longer before he succumbed to the hangover and flopped back onto the bed—which Nickolai was alone in. The disturbed sheets on the spot next to him hinted to someone else having been in it earlier.

The door began to creak open, and Nickolai shut his eyes.

“Hey, it’s almost noon. I don’t want to be rude but you need to wake up,” sounded an unfamiliar voice.

Nickolai grumbled a little. He looked at the stranger, who had soft green eyes and curly red hair. He didn’t look untrustworthy, to Nickolai’s relief. Then again, Nickolai didn’t look untrustworthy either on a normal day.

“I have Advil if you need something for a hangover,” the stranger offered.

Nickolai sat up again, for real now. “Sorry, what’s your name?”

The stranger laughed. “I’m Joel. Were you too hammered to remember my name?”

Nickolai shook his head.

The stranger seemed concerned. “How much do you remember then?”

“I don’t know, I remember thinking I should get mad drunk in public instead of passing out on my couch. After that it’s just fuzzy.” Nickolai assumed he told Joel that his name was Noah.

Joel looked a little perturbed in an endearing way. “Ah, well, do you want me to fill the gaps or. . ?”

“Can I get some Advil first?”

“Yeah. I’ll go get some water for you to swallow it with,” Joel complied. “You should get dressed.”

Nickolai waited for Joel to leave before getting out of bed and tracking down all his clothes, which were strewn about the room. His shirt smelled like liquor to the point that Nickolai thought he might gag. However, he didn’t have any spare clothes and decided to just put up with it.

Joel was back a few minutes after Nickolai got dressed. It was clear he was trying to ignore the smell, but after Nickolai took the Advil, Joel asked if he needed to borrow something that didn’t smell so rancid. Nickolai obliged and was relieved to be able to rid the putrid button-down.

“Okay, so the parts you don’t remember,” Joel began. “I can’t say I remember it too well either, but I think I have a decent memory with these things.”

Nickolai nodded. “Go on.”

“So,” Joel continued. “It began when I think I saw the bartender cut you off on drinks, and I felt kind of bad about that. So I thought, hey, company’s much better than drinks, even though I was also drinking, like a lot. And I guess at some point we kinda started flirting, and I was like ‘should we take this back to your place?’ and you began to freak out. I think you said you have a dog that bites people or something? Is that true?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. Well anyways, you did not seem to be very happy with the idea of taking anyone to your place, so I took you to mine. And you can probably guess the rest, considering you woke up naked in my bed.”

Nickolai silently acknowledged the implications in his head. This wasn’t how he planned to start his weekend, but he could roll with it. “Yeah. Sorry for sleeping until noon, by the way. I’m not at all a morning person.”

Joel smiled with amusement. “How do you pull that off? I can’t even sleep past nine on a good day.”

“Sadness.”

Joel’s face went blank with a bit of underlying surprise at Nickolai’s off hand answer. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, no harm no foul.” Nickolai was vehemently aware that he may have used that saying incorrectly.

Joel veered the conversation away from the topic. “How does your head feel?”

“A little better.”

Joel was oddly kind. Nickolai wasn’t used to receiving this hospitality from strangers like him, but that probably had more to do with who Nickolai associated himself with and not people in general. Nickolai decided he liked Joel, even if he barely knew him.

“I would offer you some breakfast, but. . . it’s almost one in the afternoon. You’re probably hungry though, right?”

“Oh, you don’t have to.” Nickolai attempted to smile back at Joel but he was too tired to count off what would make it look genuine. Regardless, Joel didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m gonna do it anyway,” Joel decided. “Any allergies?”

“Strawberries.”

“Oh! That’s a rare one.”

Nickolai shrugged. “I seem to cash in on the rare things a lot. Albinism, an extra rib, and the strawberry allergy.”

“Casinos must hate you if you’re that lucky.”

Nickolai let out a genuine laugh. He decided he definitely liked Joel. He also felt a tinge of astonishment that someone like Joel casually hooked up with him, or generally anyone. He seemed like too much of an angel to even drink.

Nickolai followed Joel out of his room. Joel’s place was considerably nice, to the point Nickolai was in a bit of disbelief. He couldn’t have wound up in an upper class area if he had started last night at a shoddy bar, right? Joel didn’t act like he was rich, he didn’t seem like it either. But this place completely contrasted whatever Joel was like. Even Joel’s cat, a rather well groomed Norwegian forest cat—which was massive and somewhat intimidating—seemed to completely outclass Nickolai.

“Do you live here by yourself?” Nickolai asked as he surveyed the expensive wallpaper lining the kitchen walls.

“Nah, I have a housemate named Anwyll. He’s visiting family right now though.”

Nickolai froze. “Anwyll. . . As in Anwyll Tait?”

“That’s the one!”

Nickolai suddenly felt sick. “Oh fuck.”

“Is something wrong?”

Nickolai retched. Had his stomach not been empty, he had no doubt he would have thrown up all over the nice counter top.

Joel dropped what he was doing and crossed the room to Nickolai. “Are you okay?” He was suddenly at Nickolai’s side with his hand placed gently on Nickolai’s back.

Nickolai’s head spun. He knew he couldn’t tell Joel that Anwyll Tait took his brother’s life in the deathmatches. If he did, Joel would have a catalogue of every possible person Nickolai could truly be, and it would clearly point to Yuskol Voskoboinikov.

Nickolai ran through every excuse he could think up. He could say he hated the rich, but that could offend Joel. He could say the deathmatches made him sick, but Joel was obviously linked to them somehow if he was in league with a Tait. Joel felt like dangerous company, a double edged sword.

“Noah?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Nickolai croaked. “I think it’s just the hangover. I haven’t eaten since yesterday, so I guess I don’t have anything to throw up.”

That was the safest excuse.

Joel looked at Nickolai with pity. “Do you think you can eat right now?”

“Yeah.”

Nickolai felt somewhat content that he had definite confirmation that he had told Joel his name was Noah last night. The slight accent in his voice may throw off the authenticity in his identity as Noah Martin, but it wasn’t consistent enough to jeopardize him.

At the same time, the fact that he slept with someone of such high class alarmed him. Most public record photos of Nickolai Voskoboinikov’s face was outdated or somewhat photoshopped, but a Tait might be able to figure him out if they surveyed him for long enough.

“So, what’s your housemate like?” Nickolai asked. He tried to keep the nervousness from spreading to his voice.

“Anwyll can be such a jerk sometimes, but he’s also sorta nice. I’ve known him since I was little,” Joel said. “He doesn’t like new people that much, but I think he’d like you.”

“Dunno. I can be very unlikeable when I’m on my medication.” Nickolai knew with certainty that Anwyll would hate him no matter what. “Also I’m. . . lower class.” Nickolai also knew that Anwyll was a classist asshole.

“Lower class? That doesn’t matter,” Joel piped up. “The whole class thing is kind of stupid. I think the way it’s set up is interesting, but it won’t stop me from having friends from all kinds of walks of life.”

“I. . . yeah. I guess so,” Nickolai mumbled. He doubted Joel would be this positive if he knew of Nickolai’s illegal trades ties, the upper class notoriously hated brokers like him. They also especially hated him in particular.

Being there felt like the most dangerous stunt Nickolai had pulled, and he hadn’t even done it on purpose.

Joel set a ridiculously fancy, yet somehow definitely homemade, grilled cheese sandwich on a plate in front of him.

“Wow,” Nickolai mused. For a moment he wasn’t sure what to say. “This looks like something an expensive ass chef would make.”

“Thanks! I went to the top culinary school in the city, my parents say it was a waste of time.”

“Fuck what your parents say,” Nickolai replied before he took a bite. The sandwich tasted unreal. The last time he had food as good as this was when he posed as an intern for one of the deathmatch organizers.

“I’m glad you like it,” Joel smiled. Nickolai felt unease crawl back into his chest. Joel seemed so genuinely friendly, though a nagging suspicion told Nickolai it could be a lie. Nickolai couldn’t take a risk by being near him for much longer. At the same time, however, he felt captivated. Joel had that charisma that so many of the notorious upper class families seemed to unanimously mirror. He was a golden face among a sea of golden faces, all rotten under their skin. Nickolai knew what they were like.

Even then, Joel seemed to care a lot more than most would let on.

Nickolai took a deep breath. “I have to go home, sorry. I left my meds there, and I probably have people flooding my inbox about work and all that bullshit.”

“That’s alright. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your job?”

“I fix computers,” Nickolai lied. That was Noah’s persona, and a story that should hold up if Joel decided to try and look in to it.

To be polite, he exchanged phone numbers. Nickolai only had his burner phone on him, which was a relief. The calls and texts that flooded Nickolai’s personal phone daily would have definitely been suspicious.

Nickolai liked Joel, but he knew he wouldn’t call him. Nickolai had a hunch that Joel may not be the worst of his kind, but he knew he wouldn’t text him back. It felt harsh to shut Joel out like this, but Nickolai wasn’t going to risk identification simply because he had a good encounter. They waved goodbye, and Joel’s cheery expression was a reminder that Nickolai would have to be silently cruel.

Nickolai didn’t call for a cab, he walked until his hangover began to bother him again. Then he called Alcor—Alcor didn’t have Nickolai’s burner phone address, but he was a safer bet than any cabs in this place.

The phone rang for a while before Alcor picked up.

“Who’s this?”

Nickolai felt relief wash over him to hear a familiar voice. “It’s Nick. Can you come pick me up?”

Alcor’s words were laced with suspicion as he spoke over the phone. “. . . Sure. Where are you?”

Nickolai looked at the street sign. Of course he had to stop on Ivory Street—the richest and most notorious, and also the one Nickolai hated the most for almost no real reason. With a sigh, he said, “Ivory Street.”

“How the fuck did you get there?”

“Drunkenly and against my conscious knowing.”

“Is this going to be dangerous?”

Nickolai groaned. “Not as dangerous as standing in the house that belongs to the man who killed my brother. Now get over here, I don’t think it’d be safe to use public transport in this area.”

There was a silence on the other end, then Alcor replied, “I’m on my way.”

#art #digital aritst #digital art #digital doodle #digital drawing #illustration #oc #ocs #short story #writing #original writing #my art

3 notes · View notes

acanvasofabillionsuns · 5 years ago

Text

We’re Gonna Frame You For Murder!

I don’t,,, really know what this is but have it anyway

Summary: Y’know that part of the delta airlines bit where they said “We’re gonna frame you for murder!” What if they actually did that? ((you should probably click the link and watch for context if you don’t know what I’m talking about)) Warnings: one (1) curse word, lots of murder mentions, kind of an actual (non-graphic) murder? Wordcount: 1,427

John honestly wasn't sure how they'd gotten a dead body, but he didn't think he wanted to know. Was it murder? An accident? Old age? Had someone tried to ship another's remains, and Delta Airlines had deprived some family of their loved one's body? Whatever the case, he didn't feel particularly inclined to ask.

He had just wanted to go home. Through a frankly ridiculous series of events, he'd found himself in front of the help desk—one of the most oxymoronic titles he'd come across in his lifetime—and asked if he could go home on an airplane. It wasn't an unfair question, all things considered, and he'd even added a please.

"No!" The attendant had laughed the word at him. "In fact, we're gonna frame you for murder. And you're gonna go to jail for 30 years!"

He had sounded entirely happy to ruin a random man's life, and John could only cry dramatically, "Why are you doing this to me?!"

"Because we're Delta Airlines, and life is a fucking nightmare," the man had replied, in a singsong tone, still sounding pleased. And while the latter part was certainly true, he didn't have to go and say it.

John wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve this. Had he done something during his blackout drunk years he was only paying for now? Was it because he'd pranked everyone in the diner that one time?

Whatever it was, about half an hour after the exchange he was

still not home, nor flying his way there,

sitting in front of what looked like a body bag containing a dead body, and

handcuffed to the chair he was sitting in.

He was pleased about none of these outcomes, especially because his phone had just died, and even if he had a charger on him (which he didn't, because they'd confiscated his bag), there was no outlet near enough to his chair to be of use.

He'd been staring at the wall for a few minutes, mostly zoned out, when the door opened and a police officer entered, accompanied by the attendant who'd told him about the framing and another man who was probably his manager or something.

"This is the dude?" The policeman asked doubtfully, eyeing John, which, rude, John could totally murder somebody if he wanted to. His skinny, lanky frame and slightly boyish face only meant he looked less likely.

"Yes, sir." The attendant and the manager both nodded. "We've got camera evidence, and when we ran his prints" (which no? They didn't?? How had they gotten his prints???) "they matched the ones on the gun."

The policeman still looked highly doubtful, but he unlocked the handcuffs from the chair and flipped them so that they were on both his hands.

"You have the right to remain silent," the officer recited, leading John out of the room and through the airport. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning."

As they passed the attendant and manager, John heard what was obviously a high five for a successful murder framing. But the policeman didn't comment, and so neither did he. He led John outside and shoved him into a police car before turning back and talking to the other two, who'd followed them outside, for another couple minutes. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but when the policeman walked around the side of the car to get in, both the attendant and the man shot him identical evil grins. He wasn't sure how they were doing it; the windows were tinted so that the passengers couldn't be made out, but they were both looking directly at him.

One silent car ride to the police station later, and he was once again cuffed to a chair. This time, he'd been given paperwork to fill out with an inky hand as they matched his prints to the ones on the gun.

He'd made through the first sheet of three when a policewoman came in, looking slightly confused. He sat up a bit straighter, curious as to whether they'd actually managed to get his prints on the gun or if they'd just straight up lied. He wasn't sure how they'd have gotten his prints, or plant them on a gun, but he wouldn't fully put it past Delta Airlines.

The woman stood there silently, frowning slightly as she looked down at him, until he prompted her, "Well?"

Her frowned deepened, and she replied, "We scanned the prints. Your prints were similar enough, but not the same." John gave a sigh of relief, but midway through his sigh the policewoman continued. "But we have the footage here of you killing them, and it's clearly your face."

"Can I see the footage?" He asked, and she nodded. After a minute where she had to get the key to the handcuffs before transferring him over to another chair in a different room, he sat in front of a computer monitor. He watched, impressed they'd managed to come up with something like this in under half an hour.

On screen was clearly himself, wielding a gun as a man stood a few paces in front of him, back facing the camera, holding up his hands and probably scared. Screen-John shot the man, then turned and stared directly into the camera, giving it a good look at his face for at least 30 seconds before someone burst in from behind him—airport security, by the looks of it—and Screen-John took off running.

It seemed pretty realistic, up until Screen-John stared at the camera for so long. That was when you could tell his face had been Photoshopped onto someone else. Still, impressive that they'd managed to make it that good in under half an hour.

Instead of pointing out the obvious Photoshop, he asked, "So what're you going to do with me?"

The policewoman was silent for a few minutes, long enough John wasn't sure she was going to answer him, until finally she said, "We're still discussing that."

"What do I do while I wait?" As it turned out, what he did while he waited was be escorted back to the previous room, to sit zoned out for a while, until finally someone came back in and explained that they would take his statement, and depending on his story they might take the case to court. So John explained how he'd been trying to go home, but the plane had been delayed nine hours and then suddenly took off while he was in the bathroom, and then he'd tried to use his meal voucher, and finally he'd gone to the help desk and been told he was going to be framed for murder.

"Out of curiosity, would I be going to jail for 30 years?" John asked as he finished.

"It depends," said Tyler. He hadn't introduced himself, but he looked like his name should be Tyler, so that was what John was calling him. "Based on the footage, you committed second degree murder, which generally gets a sentence between 19 and 250 years; that is, of course, provided you don't have any serious offenses."

"What's my sentence if I've had a serious offense?"

"Well, then we're looking at 30 years to a life sentence." Because people just casually lived to 300 all the time, so the distinction between '250 years' and 'life sentence' was important.

"I see."

A couple minutes after that, Tyler left, and John had nothing to do but stare, zoned out, at the wall again.

Finally Tyler and the policewoman came back in and explained that since he hadn't had any serious offenses, and the prints didn't exactly match up, and someone had pointed out that it was a little odd that he'd stare into a camera after killing someone, they were going to let him go. They also gave him back his bag and let him charge his phone, which was great.

Once his phone was charged, John texted his girlfriend to tell her he'd missed his plane because he got framed for murder and he now had no way to get home. After the initial alarm over being framed for murder (and his realization that hey, yeah; they shouldn't have done that!), she suggested he see if Southwest had any flights. They did, and he booked one for the next day.

And that went better.

#john mulaney #my fics #my writing #no one has any braincells in this except for the girlfriend #the thing about 250 years vs a life sentence is apparently a real thing and I need people to know that

9 notes · View notes

mieran-sanctuary · 6 years ago

Note

How did you make those drawing that mimic the dragon age tarot card look?

I’m sorry that it took me this long to reply, anon! There were some complications and illness that kept me away for a bit, but better late than never! I assume the drawing you’re referring to is the experimental card I made of my Inquisitor 4 years back?

It’s been a while since I worked on it, but I tried to dig up the old psd file to go through the layers and see what steps I made. The drawing itself was highly experimental, as I was completely new when it came to trying my hand at the DA:I card style. For the most part I decided to make the character and his anatomy very simplified, and rather focus on putting the details in the shading and background.

Let me show an example of what my drawing looks like without the added textures and extra overlay soft brush shading:

And here is the same drawing where the textures and shading are added:

But if there is one thing I’ve learned from both my own attempts and other artists, is that textures can sometimes make a very huge difference when it comes to that final touch. Whenever it’s from digital brushes or images that you’ve gathered. It’s no question that most of the work with these paintings lies in the drawing itself, but adding those final textures can really give it that ultimate DA:I card feel you’re looking for.

I’m not really experienced enough to give proper advice or tips on how to make these drawings, but for now, all I can recommend is studying the DA:I cards themselves, take inspiration from other artists, tarot cards in general, or patterns/paintings that can inspire what to use for the backgrounds. Another thing I personally like to recommend, is staying away from too much realism or overblending the image. The more the textures and those rough brush strokes are apparent, the more it adds to it. Keep it simplified, while the more detailed/realism stuff is kept to a minimum in comparison. But once again, this is my personal taste, and not the ultimate way to do this.

However, something I can add to my reply, is showing you guys a very quick, basic and simple way on how I generally go on with these paintings and how I add image textures. Please, rather look at these tips as suggestions on how to do it, as there are plenty of other and simpler ways to go about it. But since this will be a very long post filled with images, I’m gonna keep it under a cut, so that anyone interested can check it out there! Also keep in mind that I’m using Photoshop CS5 on an iMac for this.

First of all, I will apologize to everyone for the extreme low art quality, as I only have my computer mouse to draw with for this. Not to mention the extreme lack of balanced values that makes this more chaotic than it should. Make sure to always keep values in mind with these things, folks!

Anyways, I always start by making the drawing itself. Most of the work and style are put into this part of the process, as the image textures will just be extra flavoring.

Now let’s say that we want to add some fancy gold details to this drawing. We’ll be doing so by making a new layer over the drawing itself, then use a basic round brush to draw the shapes we want to be textured with gold. Wherever you choose to make something more detailed, or just make simple shapes with a single color, is all up to you.

Now I’ll be locking the layer by clicking the icon shown in the image below. It’s usually found over the layers, and make sure to keep the layer with the new shapes activated when you click it.

This will now make us able to draw on the shapes without going outside of them, so let’s use this to add some simple shading based on gold in general. This will add a bit extra once we apply the texture itself in the end. (References are your best friend here!) Also be aware that the colors you choose on these shapes will affect the end results once they are merged with the texture image. Here’s how it looks like after I’ve added some simple shading with a brush.

Now it’s time to add the extra gold texture itself. We’ll be doing so by first digging up your preferred gold texture image that you can either place or copy/paste into the psd file. Make sure the image is on a layer above the shapes we just added. Once that is done, we will right click on the layer with the image, and choose the option ‘Create Clipping Mask’

Now it should only be covering the shapes drawn in the layer below it. So now we can mess around with the image layer until it gives you a look you’re satisfied with. It’s mostly common to put the layer on Multiply or overlay, but try to experiment to see what you prefer. Also play around with the opacity of the layer, too! In this case, I set the layer to multiply and the opacity to 80%. I also adjusted the colors on the shape and the texture itself until I was satisfied.

I also added a gold texture to the circle in the background by doing the exact same thing. Make a layer with the shape, add the gold texture image in a layer above it, right click it and choose ‘Create Clipping Mask’. Then adjust to your heart’s content. This layer is set to multiply with 100% opacity. Colors were adjusted until I was pleased with the results.

And this is basically how I add textures to my art in general. Sometimes the Clipping Mask isn’t even needed if you want to cover the whole drawing itself with it. However, another thing you can do to add a texture over a painting, is having the image on its own layer over the drawing, but instead of setting the texture layer to Clipping Mask, you add a Layer Mask by having the layer itself chosen, then clicking the icon shown in the image below.

The texture layer should now have a white page next to it that looks like this.

This layer will now only let you draw on it with either black or white. Basically what this means, is if you draw on the layer with black, it will “erase” the texture, so that you can draw on the spots where you don’t want the texture to show on the painting. If you want to bring the texture back, all you have to do is draw over the black again with white, and it will appear.

I added a final grunge texture to the background, using the same method as we did with the gold, but simply skipping the Clipping Mask part. Instead I added a Layer Mask and drew over it with black, so that the texture would only show on the brown colored part of the background.

As a final touch, I added one more texture to cover up the whole image. It’s the same gray paper texture that I made and use for all my sketches or paintings in general. It can be found and downloaded here.The gray paper texture was set to overlay, and I darkened its values, as it tends to brighten up the drawing a bit too much when set to overlay.I also added a final layer on top of it all, setting it to overlay, and then draw with a soft brush to add some extra highlights and shadows to give it that final touch. Highlights were drawn with a very light/pale yellow, while the shadows were drawn with more dark brown tones. All in all, I used colors to match the ones used in the drawing.After all of that, this is how it finally looks.

Now this last step is completely optional, but I’ll add it to this post, in case some people will find it useful. One final step you can do to give the painting that extra crisp, is to add Unsharp Mask.First you need to save the drawing as a png file, and then open that file, so that all the layers are merged into one image. From here, we will click on Filter, among the tabs found at the very top of the program. From there we will find and choose Sharpen, then Unsharp Mask. Here’s an image to make it more clearer.

When you click Unsharp Mask, a little window will pop up, letting you adjust on three different sliders. Treshold will be on 0 levels, Radius will be on 2,0 pixels, while Amount is where we can adjust the slider to our liking. Usually it’s enough to keep it somewhere between 60-80%, but experiment and see what you prefer. Once you are done, click OK, and the changes will be added. Make sure to check the box next to Preview, to see what the changes look like before you click OK. When you resize the image to make it smaller, the unsharp mask effect can look pretty neat!

Aaaand one more optional final touch that we can add, is something called the Grain Texture. However, there is already a very great tutorial made that explains easily how to add it, so I’ll link to it here!

And FINALLY. After all these walls of texts and images, this is what the end results look like.

I apologize if my way of explaining these things is confusing and pretty bad. It’s always been a weakness of mine, so if any of you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask! I’ll try to answer as good as I can.Other than that, I hope this is somewhat helpful to some of you. This is basically how I do things in most cases when I make art.I’m not sure how much this helped to answer your question, Anon, but hopefully it shed some light on some of it! If not, I can always try to make another tutorial some other time, once my health allows me the extra time.

Thank you so much for reading, and good luck with your art!

#Anonymous #Mieran replies #Tutorial #Long post #Anon #Ask #I'm sorry for the long post #And sorry if this whole thing is messy xD #I tried my best

31 notes · View notes

a-shebore · 5 years ago

Note

five times kissed

send me ‘five times kissed’ for a drabble about five times our muses kissed ✦ @spacexdadx ✦ selectively accepting.

one.

she's uncharacteristically nervous. her palms are sweaty and her heart is beating way too fast. get it together, clarke. it’s just a scene. a fucking kiss scene with bellamy blake. kane’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, cutting her internal turmoil short. time to shoot. this wouldn’t been happening had it not been for the fans, who were obsessed with clarke and bellamy’s characters. they claimed their chemistry was too good to let it go to waste. apparently, kane and the other writers agreed. and now they were about to shoot their characters’ first kiss. it’s the typical ‘ we almost died without telling each other how we feel so now’s the time to change that ’ kiss that always had fans swooning. clarke wanted to rehearse it beforehand, but she knew bellamy would make remarks about how that was just her excuse to kiss him multiple times. so she walks up to her mark feeling completely unprepared. but when kane yells ‘ action ! ’, it all changes. she’s not clarke anymore. she’s a fictional character. who’s deeply relieved to see the man she’s in love with making his way toward her. tears well up in her eyes and she mentally counts to three before launching herself into bellamy’s arms. he catches her easily, strong arms snaking around her waist and keeping her close to him. their eyes meet and she allows a single tear to roll down her cheek, to which he promptly wipes away with his thumb. a shaky breath falls from her lips before she’s pushing herself to her tiptoes to press them against bellamy’s. the kiss is gentle and slow. the characters are still wrapping their minds around the fact it’s actually happening. by the time she finally pulls back, it’s only enough to rest her forehead against his. a small smile eases its way onto her lips and— ‘ and cut ! great work, guys. ’ kane yells from somewhere behind them. clarke’s eyes snap open and she immediately takes a step back, putting some distance between her and bellamy. needless to say, they nail the scene on the first take.

two.

she really shouldn’t be getting drunk. especially not when she has a 4:30 call time the next day. but she needs it after a tense phone call with her mother. clarke loves her mom, she really does. but abby griffin can be too overbearing sometimes and it gets on her daughter’s nerves. she’d just grabbed a bottle of cheap vodka - yeah, she likes cheap shit, sue her - when someone knocks on her front door. “ what the hell ? ” she mumbles to herself, glancing at the clock hung on her living room wall. 11:46. she’s not expecting anyone so who the hell is on the other side of the door ? clarke gets her answer when she opens said door. “ bellamy ? ” her voice is laced with surprise and a hint of annoyance. all she wanted was to get drunk in peace. “ what do you want ? ” she asks exasperatedly, half expecting him to ask for her script to go over some lines. it wouldn’t be the first time. bellamy sometimes forgets his script on his trailer and clarke ends up letting him borrow hers. what she’s not expecting is for him to pull out a bottle of cheap rum from behind his back and shrug, somewhat sheepishly. ‘ thin walls. ’, it’s all he says. it doesn’t take long for her to figure out he must’ve heard her argument with her mom. her cheeks warm and she steps aside to let him in. twenty minutes later, she’s pleasantly buzzed and has forgotten about her fight with her mother. bellamy is telling her a story about a time he had to hide in a dumpster from a group of crazy fans. by the time he finishes his story, clarke’s belly hurts from laughing so much and there are tears in the corner of her eyes. it takes her a while, but she finally manages to stop laughing. she shakes her head a little and when she glances at bellamy, she finds him already watching her. the energy in the room shifts all of a sudden. she's unable to look away from his warm brown eyes until his gaze drops to her lips for a fleeting second. her breathing hitches and her heartbeat quickens. she swallows, leaning in oh so very slowly, giving him plenty of time to back away. he doesn’t. in fact, he starts leaning in right after she does. their lips meet two seconds later. he tastes like cheap rum and peppermint, and clarke can’t help but moan into his mouth. this is so much better than an on - screen kiss.

three.

it’s too warm and she can’t move. clarke slowly opens her eyes and the first thing she sees is a bunch of clothes scattered around the room. there’s a black shirt by the door and her bra is dangling off her vanity. how the fuck did it end up there ? suddenly, there’s movement behind her. something squeezes her middle and clarke glances down to see a tanned arm slung over her waist. her breathing gets caught on her throat for a few seconds as flashes of the previous night race through her mind. suddenly she remembers very well know her bra had ended up on her vanity. slowly, clarke turns around to face him. his eyes are closed but somehow she can tell he’s awake. probably waiting to see if she’s going to freak out on him or not. clarke smiles a little. “ i know you’re awake. ” she says, voice raspy. whether it’s due to her just waking up or because she’d basically screamed bellamy’s name over and over the night before, she doesn’t know. he doesn’t open his eyes and clarke rolls her eyes, closing the small distance to peck at his lips. it’s a chaste kiss. the complete opposite of most kisses they had shared so far. it doesn’t take more than three seconds for him to kiss her back and clarke smiles against his lips. “ morning. ” she whispers, nuzzling his nose gently. this is good, she thinks. she can get used to it.

four.

she doesn’t know what hurts more: her head or feet. she’s had an awful headache that doesn’t seem to go away despite the medication she’d taken for it and the latter hurts because of the new pair of heels she was forced into. she loves conventions. loves meeting some of her fans, seeing their art and getting to know them a little. but convention days are always exhausting. panels, signing, photoshoots and interviews. not always in that order. at least she has her co - workers with her to shoulder it all. and bellamy, of course. though in his case it’s different. because she wants to link her fingers with his as they walk to their next interview or lay her head on his shoulder as they wait to walk up to their seats in another panel. but she can’t do any of those things because no one knows about their relationship status. some people speculate, of course. a few weeks ago, a picture of them walking out of a small, relatively unknown restaurant, hand - in - hand had been leaked to the press. thankfully, the quality of the picture wasn’t the best and it was impossible to see her face. so all people know is that famous actor bellamy blake was out on a date with some blonde. their agents had told them to ignore it, of course. don’t add fuel to the fire, anya had told her through the phone one day and ended the call before clarke could respond. ever since then, they had kept to themselves. only were seen together in public when their friends were around, and even then, they wouldn’t stand close of each other. it sucked, but clarke knew it was for the best. when it’s announced that they have a thirty minute break between interviews, she doesn’t think twice before standing up and saying she’s going to the bathroom to touch up her makeup. her eyes meet bellamy’s for a split second before she’s turning on her heel and leaving the conference room. she hopes he gets her message. clarke checks her surroundings before slipping into the bathroom. ten seconds later, the door opens and closes again. she hears the lock clicking into place and smiles. large, familiar hands land on her hips and she turns around, tipping her head back to get a better look of bellamy’s face. clarke smiles again, tugging at the front of his shirt to pull him closer. her lips meet in a lazy kiss and she wraps her arms around his neck, wanting to keep him close for as long as possible. “ mmm, ” she mumbles against his mouth, tugging his lower lip between her teeth. “ i’ve wanted to do this all day. ” she chuckles, stealing another quick kiss. “ one more interview and then we can go. ” she was more than ready for it to be over.

five.

shit, shit, shit. it’s all clarke has been mumbling to herself for the past five minutes. ever since she’d seen a picture of her and bellamy on twitter. he had his arm slung around her shoulder and lips pressed to the side of her head, while clarke laughed. they looked so happy. obviously, their fans were going absolutely crazy over this. her phone kept buzzing with mentions on twitter and texts of friends, asking if that was real or some high quality photoshop work. clarke wasn’t sure how to or if she was supposed to respond. “ what do we do ? ” she asks bellamy, who had been with her when the picture was released. before he can respond, anya’s ringtone fills the ambient. clarke knows better than to let anya’s call go to voicemail, so, with a sigh, she accepts the call and brings her phone to her ear. anya is pissed, of course. she says that, as her agent, she should’ve been informed that clarke was dating one of her co - stars to stop something like that from happening. clarke tries reasoning with her, which only seems to make things worse. but in the end, she huffs and says she’ll deal with it but that they should say something online. as usual, she hangs up before clarke can say anything. groaning, clarke plops down on the couch, throwing her feet on bellamy’s lap because she could really use a foot massage right about now. ‘ what’s the veredict ? ’, he asks, brown eyes watching her cautiously. “ she wants us to say something. ” clarke replies. she knows that anya is right. they can’t ignore this one, not when it’s just so clearly them in the picture. “ i think we should. ” she adds after a moment of silence. glancing up to find bellamy watching her, clarke holds his gaze for a few seconds. slowly, he nods. she nods back. it’s time. they’ve been together for almost a year now. it’s honestly a miracle they’ve manage to keep their relationship under wraps for as long as they’ve had. “ c’mere. ” clarke says as she whips her phone out of her back pocket and opens the camera. she tucks herself into bellamy’s side and lifts the phone, flipping it to the front camera and positioning it the way she wants the picture to look. once she’s happy with the result, she turns her head a little to look at him. she flashes him a smile before leaning in to press her lips against his and snap a picture. her phone ends up on the floor and they end up making out for a good ten minutes before clarke manages to disentangle herself from bellamy. “ there’s no turning back now, blake. ” she jokes as she hits post on the picture of her and bellamy kissing. a single red heart as the caption. it becomes her most liked picture on instagram within fifteen minutes of being posted. clarke ends up shutting her phone off for the rest of the day because it won’t stop buzzing.

#spacexdadx #answered #iii. the princess is speaking. ›› answers #v. and the camera flashes make it look like a dream. ›› pv. spacexdadx ( vii )

2 notes · View notes

joannalannister · 7 years ago

Note

Another ask, this time regarding dorne - I was under the impression that the people, in regards to skin tone and appearance, were based of the Spanish? If so, why does the majority of fan art seem to draw them (and lots of fan castings) with an Indian/middle eastern appearance? I noticed that they also have typically Indian clothing (sari and veil) and jewellery - is this true for their intext descriptions?

Hi. So this is a controversial subject, not least of which because GRRM has said in extra-textual comments that he imagined the Martells as “Greek, Spanish, Italian, Portugese”. I think this is a situation where “Death of the author” applies, because I think GRRM’s is obviously wrong here.

I think there is significant evidence in the text that Dornish people, if they existed in the real world, would not be European.

My friend @lyannas has written extensively on this topic, and I highly recommend her posts:

“Dorne’s Not White”

“Dorne is more similar to MENA than India“

These posts on @asoiafuniversity are also good:

POC fans and Western fantasy

A collection of official ASOIAF artwork that portray the Dornish as non-European (this addition by @nobodysuspectsthebutterfly is good too)

The Case for Dorne being Nonwhite

“I’m worried about Oberyn Martell”

Dornish clothing

These posts go through many textual descriptions, so I will leave the quotes to them. I also recommend going through these tags on @asoiafuniversity, because I only linked some highlights above. If you want more, I suggest you look through:

#dorne (there are 14 pages there, go aaaaall the way)

#dornish racism

#racism

Also, many people fancasted Alexander Siddig (who was born in Sudan) as their dream fancast for Doran Martell, loooooong before the show casted him. So that casting / fancast has influenced the way fandom thinks about the Martells.

I’m aware of this comment by GRRM:

In the case of Dorne, yes, Wales was definitely an influence, for all the reasons you cite. But there’s also some distinctly unWelsh elements down there. South of the wall of mountains you have a hot, dry country more like Spain or Palestine than the cool green valleys of Wales, with most of the settlements along the seacoast and in few great river basins. And you also have the flavor given the culture by the great Rhoynar influx led by Nymeria. I suppose the closest real life equivilent to that would be the Moorish influence in parts of Spain. So you could say Dorne is Wales mixed with Spain and Palestine with some entirely imaginary influences mixed in. Or you could just say it’s Dorne….

and I think @lyannas does a good job addressing the “Spain” part in the links I gave above.

(When I think of sandy deserts and armies being engulfed by sand storms, I do not think of southern europe, even if that is what GRRM thinks of.)

Regarding Wales, I’ve talked before about this with my friend @girlwholovesherwords, who is my expert on Wales, and she explained to me that Wales historically had strong female inheritance laws, similar to Dornish female inheritance laws, so I think GRRM’s comment about Wales had more to do with legal traditions than skin tone. (A lot of people like to take GRRM’s Wales comment and use it to whitewash the Dornish, but those people are obviously wrong, when the text describes the Dornish as brown-skinned.)

(@ Gemma, I thought you made a post about this? But I can’t find it? idk if you would like to share your thoughts again if you see this?)

So anyways I think there’s a very strong case to be made that Dornish people most resemble Palestinians, or at least people from the Middle East.

Why do some people imagine the Dornish as southeast Asian rather than Middle Eastern?

Well, for one thing, GRRM told Janina Gavankar, who has Indian ancestry, that she looks like Nymeria Sand. (GRRM fancast Apollonia Kotero, who has Mexican ancestry, as Arianne Martell, so GRRM is kind of … all over the place … with Dorne, and someone needs to tell GRRM that pocs aren’t interchangeable.)

The official art of Sunspear was based on the Sultan Omar Ali Saifuddin Mosque, which is in Brunei (southeast asia), while the domed architecture of Sunspear has been compared to Mughal architecture.

The Dornish paint their silk - painted silk is a tradition that originated in east Asia. “Silk painting in India touched great heights during Mughal rule in 17th – 19th centuries.”

When I was first reading ASOIAF, before I became involved in the online fandom, I personally associated Dorne with southeast asia / India for various reasons:

Dornish subcontinent // Indian subcontinent

Dorne becoming part of the Targaryen empire (elitist/racist white people) // India becoming part of the British Empire (elitist/racist white people)

Dornish desire for independence // Indian desire for independence

(Obviously Palestine also has a history of British occupation, I’m just saying that it was India I thought of while reading, rather than Palestine.)

In India, the British made arbitrary distinctions based on colorism // In Dorne, Daeron I arbitrarily divided the Dornish based on skin color (“salty Dornish” and “stony Dornish” and “sandy Dornish”)

Martell princes retaining royal status under Targ rule // Indian princes under British rule

the Ganges as a sacred river of great cultural and life-sustaining significance made me think of both “Mother Rhoyne” in Essos from which the Rhoynar came, and now the Greenblood which the Orphans go up and down in their boats

When someone asks me to think of a snake, the first one that comes to my mind is Kaa from the animated Jungle Book, this is just who I am, ok, that snake scared me as a child. I know that Kaa is a python and Oberyn called himself a viper, I know these things, I’m just explaining how my mind works

Dornish deserts // Indian deserts

Important agricultural products as exports (British really like drinking tea from India // Westeros really like drinking Dornish wine)

food cooked with lots of spices

I’m not saying these are the best associations, I’m not saying these are even all that accurate. I’m only saying that these were the associations I brought to the text as a reader, and these are the associations that shaped my imagination of Dorne as drawing a lot of inspiration from India. In the words of Ursula Le Guin,

As you read a book word by word and page by page, you participate in its creation, just as a cellist playing a Bach suite participates, note by note, in the creation, the coming-to-be, the existence, of the music.

Your reading experience depends on what you bring with you to the text and that shapes how you imagine it, how you create the world inside the book.

So whatever associations and backgrounds and personal experiences readers are bringing to the text, the important thing to keep in mind is that the Dornish aren’t white people, especially when the text describes the Dornish as dark-skinned and “brown” skinned.

I don’t necessarily think it’s wrong if some people want to imagine the Martells as Moroccan, and other people want to imagine them as Palestinian, and other people want to imagine them as Egyptian, and other people want to imagine them as Indian, and still other people want to imagine them as Chilean. (Pedro Pascal was a wonderful Oberyn Martell.) Different people are bringing different things to the text, and they’re “creating” the world of ASOIAF in different ways, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

The other thing to keep in mind is that making quality gifs / graphics / fanart is hard and poc are unfortunately very underrepresented in Western media. Photoshoppers might imagine something really amazing, but not be able to execute it very well, because they’re limited by the movies and tv shows that are already out there. (Fanartists have more flexibility, but they still often need references.) Photoshopping difficulties aren’t an excuse for whitewashing, but it does explain why, for example, gifs/graphics/fanart of Elia often depict her in a saree when she should probably be wearing a more medieval style gown, if we’re going by how GRRM describes Dornish clothing. (The closest thing to a saree in ASOIAF is probably the Ghiscari tokar.)

Finally, I’m white, so my thoughts here might not be the most valuable ones to have in this discussion. I’ve tried to give as many links as possible to poc discussing this topic, but you might want to ask a poc directly what their thoughts are. @lyannas is always very eloquent and insightful, so you might want to send more questions about this to her.

EDIT #1 - Yes, I am aware that medieval Spain was not necessarily white and there was a significant Moorish influence (including people from North Africa) in medieval Spain. That’s why I linked to lyannas’ posts above discussing this issue (did y’all click on all my links??), and that’s why I specifically mentioned Moroccan and Egyptian up above. This ask was in the context of fancasting, ie what ethnicity/race of actors alive today should be fancasted as Dornish.

EDIT #2 - @nobodysuspectsthebutterfly also recommended this post of hers.

@nobodysuspectsthebutterfly replied to your post:

[wales is] only a reference to their guerilla warfare, not their ethnicity

also, for further Wales influence on Dorne: www.westeros.org/Citadel/SSM/Entry/Asshai.com_Forum_Chat

Thanks!

#i received your other asks but i have not gotten to them yet #liashara-river #replies #/#//#dorne #grrm #dornish racism #house martell #lannister thoughts

196 notes · View notes

thedispatched · 3 years ago

Note

Ok so I finally read the soompi post defending Lucas and I wanted to share my thoughts:

They presented some strong points, but their bias is also pretty obvious and they always land with such bold assumptions that just don't make sense. It makes me a bit skeptical.

Anyway, I'll start with the information they got from the ooooshiiim account and the twitter prediction account:

The user ids they represented are def real, that can be easily confirmed by going to websites that translate user handles to ids.

But them comparing one manga character to lucas and assuming that somehow that disproves OP 1's claims is hilarious LMAO. The description of the fictional character would literally fit most male idols, idk how they went like "oh this guy severely resembles lucas, another evidence yay!"

As with the Instagram account, I can't seem to find it?? If, say, it's really OP, did they happen to find the soompi post and decided to delete the Instagram account/change the username? This is also poses the possibility that the Instagram account isn't actually real, but I guess we'll never know.

I also wish the soompi lumi provided a link to the account and some more elaboration on how their cyber investigator found it through the twitter acc's digital footprints. The manga part is very elaborate but most else is just pretty vague which I find a bit questionable?

The said fabrication of the chat records: doesn't the gaps depend on what version of WeChat it is? I searched for "wechat screenshots" and some gaps can indeed be as big as the ones in the chat records.

It would also have been better if they highlighted the gap inconsistencies/misalignments they are pointing out because personally I don't see it(but maybe it's just my eyes bluffing).

I don't have much to say about the schedule parts since I don't follow their schedules closely and I'm too lazy to search for it, but I guess what those fans said do make sense.

The voice messages: I don't have much to say either since I don't speak korean. But last time I heard the alleged voice message and the bubble one lumis are using as proof, they didn't sound alike. But then again, I don't know korean.

The sasaeng photos: I guess it also kinda makes sense. But I feel like the fan who said they got the same photo OP 1 had provided should have just showed a screenshot of her conversation with the sasaeng she claims to be selling them, I mean, the photo is already out, so what difference of not specifying which photo it is/not showing the screenshots of her conversation with the sasaeng would make?

The ring part: the soompi lumi's argument also seems pretty valid. It really does not look like his finger.

The OP 2 part: I don't know mandarin or cantonese so I can't really comment on the nuances the fans are trying to point out. I don't understand the red boxes though, were those part of the original photos OP 2 provided or are they highlights of the misalignments lumis are trying to point out?

The OP 3 part: Oh they can definitely be a guy, but it's also possible that they didn't use their actual gender in the account(I myself do that all the time, for privacy reasons). But once again, we will never know which is true.

The photo is indeed very questionable. Why is the background blurred? Why are there plushies everywhere? Why is there a reflection of what seems like a man in the glass when they're supposedly alone? But there seems to be a door and a small hallway reflected on the glass too? It looks clean and hotel-like. And the one who took the photo seemed to be sitting right besides him based on the photo's angle. If it's taken by a sasaeng staff as fans have claimed, how did the sasaeng staff secretly took a photo like that while literally sitting besides lucas and with other people around them(like the "man in the glass") without the other people in the dorm questioning what the fuck is that staff doing? But another explanation I can think of(if the photo really came from a sasaeng staff) is that a member took the photo(with Lucas being aware of it) and somehow the sasaeng staff managed to get it?

With OP 3's chat records, again I don't see the gap mistakes or misalignment they are pointing out, I again tried to look at WeChat examples on the internet and the difference between the size of the messages and the dates is a normal thing, so is the gap between 2 messages vs the gap at bottom of the chat. And the "difference" between the two s's in lucas's username they are pointing out is honestly ridiculous. The photo is taken from an asymmetrical angle, of course the sizes would look unequal.

The sleeping photos: the plushies' textures don't look the same, dorm plushie looks more rough while the plushie Lucas is sleeping with looks softer and fuzzier. And if it was taken by a sasaeng in the wayv dorm as fans have claimed, how the hell is the sasaeng within such a close proximity? There's so many people in the dorm and I doubt they'd be all asleep at that time to not notice that a sasaeng is right besides their sleeping member literally photographing him.

The jacket and photo receipts: Oh I've seen this on another article. I'm convinced with the debunking of the jacket part, and receipts are everywhere in the internet. I guess it isn't impossible that OP 3 might have just took the receipts somewhere online.

OP 4's surfing video: Yes, same pose, but different angles? That does not look exactly the same as the one he showed in his socials. But that black spot is definitely questionable.

OP 4's WeChat records: Oh another questionable one. Especially the imbalance in the color value. But once I again I think it would have been better if they provided the links to the other debunk posts they included because man I can't see the cutting traces in the chats that they are pointing out.

OP 1's second post: again I think the difference in wechat date layouts depend on the version? And why did most koreans themselves didn't question the difference in OP 1's wechat? Like if korean wechat really don't look like that, wouldn't they point it out?

"their account creation dates and account activity all falls within the same time period." Um no?? 2015, 2019, 2018 are same time periods??

In conclusion, as I said before, I think the soompi lumi presented strong points that really make you question the credibility of the allegations, but their intense bias towards lucas makes them quite questionable, too. And the way they treat every debunk post like the absolute divine truth is pretty off-putting.

I'm convinced not everything in the allegations are true. I'm just curious about the severity of his actions. Maybe he dated them, but maybe he wasn't an asshole? But if that's the case why would they try to ruin his image if he treated them right? Or maybe he really was an asshole but some of the story isn't true? Ah I'm still so confused of what to think but I believe there has to be some truth in the story, but just how bad is the truth???

thank you for sending me your thoughts! it's always interesting to see what other people think. (and sorry for the late reply!)

i'm not gonna say much as i've talk about my thoughts on the post already.

i agree about the manga, it's absolutely ridiculous how comparing one manga character to lucas debunks their claims. that's just one example of one of the far fetched assumptions that made me lean more towards not believing the article.

part of me also wondered if they created the ig account for their article but like you said, we’ll never know.

even if it doesn’t look like his finger in the messages, I’m pretty sure he mentioned winwin in the texts ??

I know some people blur the background of photos for either aesthetic, or mostly for privacy reasons.

I honestly don’t know how people are seeing a man in the reflection. It’s a literally blob. You can’t make out any (person) shape.

The jacket and receipts is the only thing I took away from that article that I actually kind of believed. I talked about this with another anon. That is super easy to fake, but the photos were also originally blurry so a “blur” around the words would be hard to solidify as evidence unless the photo is in ultra hd or something lol. But to me this is the most believable to be fake.

I once saw a twitter thread pointing out how the messages weren’t photoshopped and explained why they looked “misaligned” or whatever but I can’t remember what it said exactly besides auto translations. I won’t be able to find it again because it was so long ago :/

Someone can correct me if I’m wrong but wechat is more of a China thing? Like not a lot of people outside of China/non-Chinese use it. You’re right about why Koreans didn’t point it out, but I don’t think they’d know if they don’t use it ??

You asked a lot of questions and pointed out a lot of things that are something to think about, but I don’t think anyone has a clear answer unless you have an extreme bias.

I also wondered the severity of his actions. I think this whole thing is a mix of truth and lies. We all want to know the truth and the worst part is we never will. Like you said, how bad is the truth?

(I might edit this later and add some stuff 😅)

0 notes

bvckystxn · 7 years ago

Text

I Trust You - Bucky x Reader

Disclaimer: GIF isn’t mine, but Tumblr wasn’t working properly so i had to get it off google. All rights go to the creator.

A/N: This wasn’t a request, but an idea I’ve been playing around with in my head. It’s also my first piece of fanfiction in years so I hope it’s decent. Basically, the reader finds Bucky while the Avengers are fighting Ultron in Sokovia.

Word count: 2879

Warnings: one or two swear words.

The Tower was empty and quiet, which was unsurprising as the Avengers had gone off to Sokovia to battle Ultron. I had even begun to miss Steve and Tony’s constant bickering, which was odd as they had only left earlier that day.

I thought I’d be happy to have the Tower to myself, but with my sprained wrist there was only so much I could do. It was safe to say that I was already bored, I had started to walk down random hallways aimlessly.

Around a year ago, when Steve found out that his old friend Bucky Barnes was still alive, he was a victim, a tool for Hydra to use. But after the big clash between Hydra and SHIELD Steve told me Bucky had disappeared. It was just as if he had dropped off the face of the earth. I promised him I would help him look.

I remembered my promise as I walked past Steve’s room. It’ll give me something to do. I thought as I laid my hand on the cold frame of the steel door and slowly pushed it open.

Steve always kept his room neat and tidy, which marvelled me as mine was always in disarray. I was constantly scolded about this, mainly by Steve, but I was repeatedly running late so I threw items of clothing around in order to find one specific top. Strangely, no one thought this was a good excuse.

I stood in the doorway for a moment, debating whether or not to actually invade Steve’s privacy by using his computer.

Steve was not only old-fashioned, but also naïve when it came to technology. This made my life easier as now I wouldn’t have to sit behind his desk for an eternity, guessing at his password.

I would have felt more at ease if I had been in my own room, using my own computer. But Steve wanted for this private mission of his to be kept on the down-low, so his was the only computer currently tracking down James Buchanan Barnes.

After Natasha released all of SHIELD’s files on Hydra to the public Steve’s system had picked up on several people saying that they had spotted the Winter Soldier shopping for groceries.

Steve now ignored all of these as every single one he had acted upon in the past had turned out to be a cry for attention from the internet.

I ran several different algorithms, searching for mentions of Bucky in the news, facial recognition, cardholder names etc. As per usual, nothing came up. I leaned back in Steve’s chair and drummed my fingers on the wooden surface of his desk.

Out of boredom I moved the mouse over to the section that would scan the internet for any and all mentions of Bucky, and clicked it. All of this was basically white noise. One post said that the Winter Soldier was showing off his moves in a ski resort in Italy and another said he was working out in some gym in Florida.

I let out a large puff of air as I kept scrolling through all of the posts, each one more ludicrous than the last one had been. Bucky was obviously hiding, he would never be at a ski resort or sunbathing in the Caribbean. How daft were some people, honestly? Sunbathing you did shirtless and if this guy did not have a metal arm, how could he possibly have been Bucky Barnes?

As I was about to close the program a picture caught my eye. Hardly any of the other people’s posts featured images, and on the rare occasion when they did they were very poorly photoshopped.

I enlarged the picture which portrayed Bucky across the road from where the photo had been taken. There were cars blocking my view of most of his body and he was wearing a baseball cap, but he still looked like the Bucky I had seen in pictures and vaguely remembered from DC.

To make sure I pushed myself up and looked around Steve’s room. I spotted a picture frame sitting on a shelf with an old photo of him and Bucky in it. I picked it up and carried it over to the desk to compare the two. I squinted and tried looking at it from different angles, but in the end I decided that this might actually be something worth checking out.

The two images were still very different; in Steve’s picture his friend seemed happy and full of life, and in the other one he just appeared tired and there was some other type of sadness that his eyes betrayed. However, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, I hadn’t seen anyone with that kind of look in their eyes before.

As I fished my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans I swiftly ran my eyes over the comment that went along with the image, which mentioned something about a location.

“Steve!” I breathed into my phone’s microphone after it had stopped ringing.

Steve’s voicemail started to sound in my ear. “Cap, are you kidding? The one time I need you?”

I hung up without leaving a message and quickly sent myself a link to the post before I shut down the computer.

I pushed the chair back from the desk and darted down the hallway, to my own room. I essentially flung myself to my knees and reached a hand under my bed.

Part of my training had been to always be prepared to run. I had taken that to heart and purchased a basic duffel bag, which was now filled with principle essentials for travel.

“FRIDAY?” I asked, addressing Tony’s bodiless assistant.

“What can I help you with, Miss Y/N?”

“I’m sending you a picture of a man in Bucharest, Romania. Can you use the security cameras in the city to track him and figure out where he’s staying?”

“Of course, Miss Y/N.” FRIDAY replied.

I made my way to the garage, got into one of the standard black cars and started to drive in the direction of the airport.

Bucky was Steve’s friend, I knew that. I didn’t know him. I had only seen him once, when Hydra attacked SHIELD in Washington. But the Avengers were fighting in Ultron in Sokovia and I hated missing out on action. On top of that, when Steve would return and find out that I had come across an actual solid lead for the first time and just let it go, he would have my head for that.

I got on the first flight to London and got a connecting flight from there to Bucharest. Everything was taking too long for my liking, but as I had not properly completed my training yet I was not able to fly one of the jets directly to Romania.

I checked into the hotel I had booked during my layover in London very early in the morning and just crashed on top of the bed. Sleep seized me in an in instant as I was incapable of sleeping on planes and thus exhausted.

The hotel hadn’t provided many options for breakfast at all and the coffee was a disgusting watery liquid. I don’t know why I had expected anything else, I had booked a cheap hotel very last minute, of course it was going to be crappy.

Nevertheless, I put up with it, I had had worse.

I downloaded the address FRIDAY had nailed Bucky’s location down to and headed into the streets of Bucharest.

As I neared a shabby-looking apartment block I walked past a beautifully huge fountain. It’s tall structure and gold detailing on the water-spewing lions seemed very out of place in this neighbourhood, but I ignored it and continued on walking.

Bucky Barnes was my mission, I had promised Steve I would help and that was exactly what I was doing.

The building had very poor security, which was unsurprising and allowed me to enter without anybody having to let me in. Strangely, the hallways did have a few cameras, not many, but apparently enough for FRIDAY to locate Bucky’s apartment number.

I cautiously started the walk up the staircase, due to the lack of windows this was no easy task. The only real light came from the skylight, which was incredibly filthy, so that was also obscured.

Bucky’s apartment was almost on the top floor and yet, with all of my training I did not want to appear even the least out of breath, so I gave myself a moment before heading down the corridor.

Every step I took brought me closer and closer to the man no one had been able to uncover for an entire year. If I was going to be honest, it made me feel special, like I wasn’t worthless for once. My lack of training caused me to be left out every so often and I secretly believed that that was the actual reason I wasn’t in Sokovia with the others, not my sprained wrist. It took a lot more for any of the others to be “grounded”.

Finally I reached Bucky’s door, but I didn’t knock on it. I didn’t know why. I just stood there, staring at it, thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong, which included this being just another dead end.

Oh, for fuck’s sake Y/N! I scolded myself and then raised my hand. I tentatively knocked on the door. When I didn’t receive a response I knocked again, a bit louder and surer this time.

Feet shuffled around on the other side of the door and then nothing, just silence and the distant sounds of traffic.

“Bucky?” I asked carefully, “Bucky Barnes?”

“Who are you?” a low voiced replied, slightly muffled by the door.

“My name is Y/N, I’m a friend of Steve’s.”

Silence.

“Captain America.” I clarified.

Silence.

A moment, that felt like an eternity, later I registered a clicking sound, which I presumed was him unlocking the door.

The doorway then slowly opened, creakingly, and revealed a tall man, with dark hair that reached his broad shoulders. The roots were greasy and it appeared as if it hadn’t seen a comb in days.

Bucky regarded me, caution radiating off him in waves, and I didn’t blame him. But I had come here for a reason. “Can I come in?”

The question hung in the air between us for a minute and then Bucky slowly nodded and opened the door completely, revealing a one-room apartment and windows that had been blocked out by newspapers.

I slipped past him and as I stood in the centre of the room I realised that there was also a tiny bathroom adjacent to it.

“How did you find me?” Bucky had closed the door, but was still standing next to it, as if were an escape route. Which I supposed it was.

“You didn’t make it easy,” I admitted, “but we have really advanced technology.”

Bucky looked at me with a blank expression, making me feel slightly uneasy.

“I come in peace.” I blurted out and silently cursed myself the second those ridiculous words left my lips.

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched upwards. The smallest hint of amusement and a giant relief for me.

“I’m sorry.” I muttered, ashamed and looked down at my shoes, which had all of a sudden become the most interesting thing in the room. They were simple white tennis shoes and they made me feel as if I was walking on clouds.

“Y/N was it?” I looked up, Bucky had moved from his post next to the door and was now walking towards the kitchen counter.

“Yeah.” I told him, rather sheepishly.

“Did Steve put you up to this? Is he waiting outside?” he questioned me, casting a worried look toward the front door.

“Um.. No, not exactly.” I replied hesitantly, wondering if saying that Steve wasn’t involved was a good idea.

“Is he here?” Bucky repeated his question.

“No.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed together as he gave me a sceptical look. “Steve is not here.” I restated.

I couldn’t believe what happened next; it was as if Bucky let out a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes for a second and his shoulders sagged. His whole body just seemed to relax.

I took this as a sign that it was okay for me to loosen up a little bit too, and allowed myself to sink down into his small couch that had been pushed up against the kitchen island.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. You’re happy that Steve is not here?”

Bucky took a tentative breath as I tried to study his expression; there was still a hint of the relief he had just shown, but now it was mixed with worry and what I believed to be timidness.

“Yes.” he said after a while.

I widened my eyes at him, kindly urging him to explain. I had come all this way to be able to inform Steve I had finally found his missing friend and now that friend was telling me that he didn’t want to be found by specifically Steve.

“If Steve were here…” Bucky started and then stopped, looking down at the kitchen counter.

This time I didn’t urge him on, it had become clear to me that this was not an easy subject for him to talk about. So I just sat on his couch and waited, giving him some time to figure out whether or not he wanted to tell me. I started to think about how disappointed Steve would be when he returned from Sokovia.

I got so lost in my own whirlwind of thoughts that I barely noticed Bucky sitting down on the arm of his couch. He took a deep breath and started again: “If Steve were here I would have to be Sergeant Barnes, but now I can just be Bucky.”

I watched him as he looked down at his hands, absent mindedly running his flesh fingers along the metal plates. He looked up and directly at me. “Do you understand?” he asked.

“Not completely.”

My answer made a disappointed and sad shadow appear on his face, obscuring his features. I took a chance and reached across the couch with my hand, laying it on top of his as a sign of encouragement.

“But I want to.”

The shadow didn’t disappear entirely, but I did register a faint gleam in his eyes as he looked at me. I tried really hard to maintain a calm and welcoming expression on my face as he did so.

“Okay.” he said after a while, shifting his body ever so slightly towards mine.

“As you undoubtedly know, I lost all of my memories, but now I am very slowing recalling little things. The thing is, after seventy years of having your slate constantly wiped clean there are certain things that you lose for good. From our last encounter I have reason to believe that Steve figures that that’s not true. I remember him never wanting to give up, and no matter how many times he tells me that I’m not the Winter Soldier, I know I am. I know I will never be that Bucky again, the Bucky he grew up with, Sergeant Barnes. But he believes I can be and every time I prove him wrong I remember the disappointment on his face. After what Hydra did to me, I can never go back, it will always be a part of me. Don’t get me wrong, I want to remember, I even document every memory that comes back to me, but I just can’t face his disappointment again. At least, not yet.”

After Bucky had finished talking I didn’t know what to say, what the right words would be.

“That must have been very difficult for you to admit to me.” I told him after I had let it all sink in, “Thank you for trusting me and explaining.”

“Please don’t tell Steve.” Bucky said suddenly, grabbing hold of my hand, surprising me.

“That you don’t want to disappoint him?”

“No, please don’t tell him that you found me.”

I looked into Bucky’s eyes and for a split second they reminded me of a dog’s. They were big, pleading, full of genuine fear and they looked straight into mine.

I knew Steve would murder me if he ever found out, but Buck’s eyes made me feel so guilty and it was as if I could feel his fear seeping into me through them. I was aware that that wasn’t possible, but yet I agreed to keep it all a secret. I just felt so bad for him.

“I just have one question.” I said.

“Yes?”

“Why did you tell me everything?” I loved the fact that he told me, but I was so confused when it came to why as I was a complete stranger.

“I don’t know.” he admitted, confusion lacing his voice, “I guess I get this feeling that I can trust you.”

Tags: @ravishyourheart

152 notes · View notes

sorenserotonin · 7 years ago

Text

Momentary Losers Chapter 2

AO3 link

chapter 1 chapter 3

Summary: Richie and his bandmates get back from a tour to meet Stan's boyfriend Bill, and Bill's small and anxious best friend Eddie. From the moment they met, Richie was infatuated, but he was sure Eddie hated his guts. How could he not? Richie was everything Eddie wasn't. Little did Richie know, everyone has a little bit of a "Total Disaster" in them.

there are mentions of doing hard drugs and mentions of alcohol use so like,, just a warning also richie makes some gross jokes but hes richie so

Ships: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris/Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh/Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon/Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris/Mike Hanlon (eventually)

The sun is shining, it’s summer. Four teens sitting on the ledge on a cliff. “We’re gonna get out of here as soon as we can, right?” the red headed girl asked.

The boy with the dark skin and soft smile placed his hand on her thigh. They looked each other in the eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

“Before we go, I gotta give Stan’s mom a kiss,” Richie added, not quite ruining the moment. Mike put his arm around Richie’s shoulder.

Stan rolled his eyes as Beverly laughed. “How can you kiss her if you already drowned?” Stan smiled at his best friend.

“Stan the man gets off a good one.”

Richie was being shaken awake and he slowly opened his eyes. He was laying face down on the couch in the living room. It took him a few seconds to realize he was home, and not in a moving vehicle. He looked up at person who woke him up, unsurprised to see a familiar blur. He blinked his eyes, forgetting that he just has terrible vision.

“Wake up dumbass, make me breakfast,” it was Stan.

Richie smiled. “I come home and the hubby wants me to make him food as soon as I wake up. Cassandra I wanna leave him, but what about the kids?” Richie’s voice was high pitched and he managed a pretty southern drawl, sounding like a housewife from Kentucky. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and replied to himself in a different version of the same voice, this one a bit lower. “Well I dunno Vicki, I just do what Mark asks me to,” he stretched and yawned.

“I don’t know, I kinda wanna just stab him and end it, Cassie,” Stan did an awful version of the first voice.

Richie laughed, grabbing his glasses off of the coffee table. “God, I’ve missed you,” he stood up.

Stan smiled. “I’ve missed you too, nerd. Now, go make breakfast. Mike left last night with Bev and Ben and I have a hangover.”

Richie smiled, glad that he didn’t drink last night. He did however, do a line of coke with Bill. Ah, bonding with one's best friends’ boyfriend can only go two ways with Richie Tozier. Stan had gotten hammered, kissing Bill sloppily, and crying about how much he missed Bev, Mike, and especially Richie. Richie wouldn’t be surprised if Stan was still a little drunk.

They all had gotten a little high that night, except Eddie, he wouldn’t go near any of the drugs. Richie was the only one that hadn’t touched any alcohol. Eddie, had drank the most, rambling about how nervous he was. He explained how weird it was being around so many people, but he slurred his words as he talked to himself. He laughed at everything anyone else said, and Richie called him adorable.

They had all left, Bill and Eddie taking an Uber. Eddie had laughed about the irony of an Uber driver calling for an Uber. Ben was the most sober out of them all, drinking a little at the beginning of their small gathering, and sobering up enough by the end. He took Mike home with him and Bev.

Now Richie was wearing nothing but his boxers, one sock, and his glasses. He put his hair in a messy bun so he could cook without having a hairy disaster. Stan lifted himself onto the counter, and pulled his phone from his pocket. He turned it on and winced at the brightness, immediately turning it down. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ay, dare I say that this is the effect of alcohol,” Richie smiled as he flipped the vegan bacon. He did a british accent, winking at Stan.

Richie isn't vegan, but Stan is. When with Stan, Richie adheres to veganism to support his best friend. He understood that Stan’s reason for it was that it was the best way for him to respect himself, the world, and his religion. Richie didn't have the same concerns, being raised Catholic but dropping religion for a carefree lifestyle, however he wanted to help Stan in anyway he could. That meant having vegan products in the house, that meant going to vegan kosher restaurants together, and he even went to Stan's bar mitzvah when they were just middle schoolers in Derry, Maine.

Stan glared at him. “Shut the fuck up,” he rolled his eyes.

Stan usually was the one to cook. Richie wasn’t the best cook, but he wasn’t bad. “Did you take an aspirin?” Richie asked.

Stan noodded. “Yeah and I threw up as soon as I woke up. Darted right into the bathroom, then I woke you up.”

“Aw, such a blessing that you thought of lil ol’ me as you blew chunks,” Richie laughed, licking his lips.

Richie missed this. Having breakfast with Stan after a party. He missed spending time with Stan. Stan was always busy running the lgbt youth center while Richie was gone. He kept himself busy.

Now, they were eating breakfast and drinking orange juice. Stan was wearing a neon t shirt that Richie had given him a few years back. Along with a pair of Marilyn Monroe sweatpants, Stan was wearing his pajamas. Richie was wearing his pajamas too. Minus the other sock. He usually just slept in his boxers and a pair of socks, half the time kicking either one or both socks off in his sleep.

“You've been wearing your glasses a lot recently,” Stan said after a long silence.

Richie shrugged. “Easier than putting in my contacts.”

Stan noddded. “Some girls on social media have already photoshopped flower crowns onto pictures of you in your glasses.”

Richie cracked a smile. “Was your mom the first one to start the trend?”

Stan rolled his eyes. This was normal. Richie liked making jokes about Stan's mom. Stan rolled his eyes at these jokes. It didn't matter now that Stan was texting his boyfriend. It didn't matter that Richie was kind of sad that his best friend was splitting his attention. This was normal to them.

“I promised the kids that you would be there today. Do you want me to come?” Stan asked after he finished his food.

“I know I made you breakfast and all that but I don't think Bill or the kids would appreciate me making you come,” Richie winked.

Stan scoffed. “As if.”

Richie smiled, doing his best Jamie Kennedy impression. “Oh really Alicia? ‘as if’?”

Stan finally laughed. “You're a mess.”

“And you love me.”

When they arrived at the youth center, Richie was wearing his contacts. He also was wearing a button up that looked like a bowling alley carpet, with plaid pants with ripped knees. Stan said that the clashing patterns gave him a headache, but Richie just stuck his tongue out and stuck up his middle finger.

When they stepped inside, Richie greeted the 18 year old volunteer at the desk. She gave him a big smile. When Stan stopped at the desk, she took a deep breath as a light blush spread across her face. Richie crouched, putting his elbows on the desk. “Y’know Al, you gotta show me how you do your makeup,” he waved his hand in front of his face. “Love the pride colors,” he smiled.

Al smiled. She was wearing a nude lipstick and her eyeshadow in the bi pride colors. The pink and purple were used as a smoky eye base, and she used blue eyeliner. “Takes a lot of practice, I’ll tell you that.”

“I’m sure Bev would also like some tips, right Stan?”

Stan shrugged. “I’m sure that if she saw how talented Al is she would love some tips,” That’s what Richie was looking for. He knew that a compliment from Stan would make the girls day. “Let’s go check on the others and make sure no one is dead,” Stan grabbed Richie’s arms and lifted him up.

Richie saluted Al as he and Stan walked inside. “Stanthony you can’t lead the poor girl on,” Richie put his arm around Stan’s shoulder.

Stan rolled his eyes. “She’s 18, Richie. I also have a boyfriend, y’know because I’m gay.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but you haven’t told her that it’s inappropriate, for all she knows you’re playing hard to get,” Richie pursed his lips and paused for a second. “Maybe that’s why Mike never asked you out.”

Stan sighed. “Richie we all know that Mike never asked me out because he likes you more. May God help him.”

Richie scoffed. “Just because he blows me-”

Stan lightly punched Richie as a group of teenagers ran over to them. Richie immediately recognized all of them. He gave each of them a hug and listened to them as they told him about stuff they or Stan did while he was gone. Zoe showed him some of their art and he couldn’t help but praise the kid. They had such great talent. Richie couldn’t wait to give them their binder on Christmas.

One of the teens took Stan to turn on the radio. As soon as the music started, Richie knew Stan would change the song. “Leave it!” he shouted, then heard Stan groan.

“Rich, this isn’t even one of your good songs!”

I'm gettin' bi

Oh yeah, I'm lettin' my bi flag fly

Not gonna hide it, not gonna lie

I'm a bi kinda guy

There’s no reason to be shy

My oh my, it's a fact I can't deny

I'm bi, bi, bi until the day I die

After a few hours of making sure everything was okay at the center, and that it would be ready to be a shelter that night, Richie and Stan picked Mike, Ben, and Bev up for lunch. Mike was vegan, but Bev and Ben weren’t. The couple still agreed to have a vegan meal with them.

When Stan left the table to go to the bathroom, Bev picked her food up with her fork and put it on Richie’s plate. “I don’t like it,” she said quietly. “It’s not real chicken.”

“Then you should have gotten something that didn’t have a meat substitute,” Ben shrugged.

Richie nearly choked on his food. “Ben, I didn’t know you needed a substitute. Bev, why didn’t you tell me? I would happily-”

“Beep beep Richie,” Mike said, with a small smile on his face. He liked the joke, but he at least had enough manners not to laugh at that joke in public.

Bev snorted. “As if you could do any better in bed than Ben.”

“Is that a challenge? Ben, you wanna watch while I fuck your girlfriend?”

Ben coughed, his face going red. Bev let out a loud laugh, clapping her hand on Ben’s back. Mike bit his lip to keep from laughing too loud. Stan approached the table, a small frown on his face. “Did Richie say something about me while I was gone?”

Mike didn’t stop himself from laughing this time. Bev hadn’t stopped laughing, tears were now streaming down her face. Ben rolled his eyes. “No, they’re laughing at me.”

Stan gave a small nod. “Gotta watch what you say around him.”

Tag list:

@lousytrashmouth @beepbeepbabe @queertrashmouth @gospelofthewitch @presumptuousofyou @festive-wheeler @rochibi @burymestanding @i-is-gazebo @ohheydatsme @supernaturalslytherinintheimpala @maisy-the-fangirl @novopsi @sugarandsaltandeverythingthot @colorful-dodie @aristosachaiov @bitchierrichie @sweetbadheart @arklcat

#it #momentary losers #band au #reddie #stenbrough #benverly #hanzier #richie tozier #mike hanlon #stan uris #stanley uris #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #ben hanscom #my fic #tell me if you caught the reference

44 notes · View notes

n0velust · 4 years ago

Text

2007

When I received the message from a stranger on Myspace, I assumed I was being punk’d.

I heard you get sleep paralysis. So do I. Can we talk about it?

The account that sent the message supposedly belonged to a girl named Rose, but her profile was sketchy. She only had one friend. There were only two photos of her, good quality, not your basic selfies, although they weren’t professional either.

She was a blonde with bangs, her hair cut just above her shoulders. Her eyes were bright and the color of sea foam. There was an angelic quality to her. This was not the first time I had seen her face before, I was sure of that, but I couldn’t place where I reconized her from. It bothered me. Not that I believed the girl in the pictures was the one who actually sent me the message. Someone was messing with me. Someone who wanted me to reveal my weaknesses so they could use them against me.

I had only spoken of my sleep paralysis once in a public setting- a group counseling session all the way back in middle school. Sara, this redhead whom I had my eye on since the moment I first saw her, mentioned having it first in this session. We talked back and forth about it for a minute before our councilor called the meeting back into order. Sara had wanted to know more about my episodes. We met up one day, but she didn’t like that I believed sleep paralysis was a mere medical condition as opposed to a supernatural phenomenon. She committed suicide just a few months after that.

I knew better than to give this troll the time of day, but it was a lonely summer night. Besides, my curiosity had been piqued.

Cute pix but they ain’t urs, I wrote back. Maybe next time add more friends and write an About Me, so it doesn’t look like you just created the account two minutes ago.

She replied in a matter of minutes. Aww you think I’m cute?? (: lol it’s a new profile. I can send you another pic if you want.

Alright but draw a dick on your forehead so I know it’s really you, I typed back with a smug grin on my face. Checkmate. Since they wanted to act like a dickhead.

I got up and searched my dark room, my computer screen being my only source of light, for my bottle of vodka. I usually put it somewhere inconspicuous in case my cousin, Jessica, or Aunt Marilyn barged in on me. It’s neck was sticking out from under my pillow. I took several long gulps that warmed my stomach.

I didn’t expect a reply from that account but when I looked back to the screen, endorphins kicked in when I saw the one new message notification. No way. Bad Photoshop?

A grainy picture probably taken a flip phone, but it was her. She held her hair back out of her face, on her forehead she dawned the crudely drawn penis. A goofy smile.

Can we talk now? she asked in a separate message. I’d like this to be interview style. Can I call you to save us both time?

Out of pure boredom, I sent her my number. A few short seconds later, my phone rang. We got past awkward introductions.

“You do look familiar,” I admitted. “Do you go to Apponequet?”

“No, I go to Bishop Stang.”

“A Catholic school girl, huh?”

“I have come into your job at Burger Daze, maybe that’s why you recognize me. That’s where I overheard some kids talking about you and the fact that you had sleep paralysis.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t ask them their names. I just eavesdropped on their conversation,” she giggled. “To be clear, I know who you are. Not just from seeing you at your job. You’re practically famous!”

Famous people have fans, I didn’t even have friends. The main reason having to do with my local legend status in the small community of Freetown, Massachusetts. When you witness your father’s murder as a child, then go missing in the state forest for a week, and the media outlets paste your photo all over town, people rarely forget.

“Maybe I’ll give you an autograph sometimes,” I replied dryly.

“A piece of paper with your handwriting on it? That’d be great. I could use it to cast a love spell on you,” she said with a smile in her voice.

“Look, is this supposed to be a joke or-“ My amusement was wearing thin.

“No joke, Raiden. When I heard those people talking about you, I couldn’t believe it. I haven’t met another living person who’s had sleep paralysis. And for me it’s been especially bad lately so I took it as a sign that I must reach out to you.”

“Well now you have, so what do you want?”

“Tell me, do you hallucinate during?”

“Most people do. Your body puts itself in a state of paralysis, so you don’t act out your dreams. The hallucinations occur because your mind is still in a dream state.”

“Thanks for educating me on the subject as if I haven’t already extensively researched it myself. I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then?”

“Yes.”

“And what sorts of things do you see?”

“People who suffer from sleep paralysis tend to see the same things, shadow people and such. Which makes sense because the room is dark and there are a lot of shadows.”

I was so used to only talking about this with therapists that I couldn’t help but parrot the things they told me.

“What about the old hag though? Lots of people report seeing the detailed image of an old woman, usually wearing a veil, who sits on their chests. She’s not a shadow. Explain why that’s common sighting.”

I paced the room, thinking of an explanation but fell short.

“Have you seen the old hag?” I reflected her question back.

“I asked you what you saw first.”

“Yes, it’s one of the worst apparitions. She starts off as a beautiful woman and then morphs. Total succubus situation, it’s awful.”

“Sounds like the scene in The Shining. That part really freaked me out as a kid.”

“I haven’t seen it.” Or any horror movie for that matter.

“The original is better than the remake although Stephen King wouldn’t agree- anyway so, shadow people, the old hag, anything else?"

I hesitated, stumbling over my words. There was something else. Something Sara mentioned seeing too. Something that she claimed the more energy you gave to, the more powerful it got.

“I’ve seen something coming out of the wall. It’s like it comes from another dimension,” Rose went on, since I was at a loss for words. “It’s three dimensional too, not like a shadow. Unlike the other sleep paralysis villains, it can physically touch. It puts its hand over my head. Local indigenous tribes have something similar in their folklore, expect it comes out of trees instead of walls. They call it a Wuagamortchi. Have you ever seen it or heard of it?”

My throat ran dry, so I went back to my bottle and took another drink. There’s no way she could be messing with me. I’ve only spoken of this particular entity to Sara and one of my psychologists. Sara named this entity ‘Wally”. As a kid, I called it the Gatekeeper.

“Yes,” I admitted. “I’ve seen it since I was a kid.”

“Can you describe your experiences?” Rose asked. Her voice was too cheery for the conversation we were having.

“No. I’d rather not. Sorry, I’m kind of freaking out right now. You’re not the first person to come into my life asking me about this shit. This girl I used to know, Sara, she saw the wog-thing, whatever you called it, too.”

“Really?” Rose asked enthusiastically. “Do you have Sara’s number? I’d love to talk to her too.”

“She committed suicide, about four years ago. I felt…guilty about it. You’re reminding me for her right now. That’s why my mind is a mess.”

“Why do you feel guilty?”

“Because she came to me for help so she would feel less alone. Her view on it was even darker than yours. She thought that actual demons were after her, that they wanted to make her hurt herself and other people. I dismissed her after she said all that, told her it was in her head. The ultimate betrayal, in her eyes, was when I told her boyfriend, James, that she needed help. She never spoke to me again. Her paranoia was what led her to take her life.”

“I mean, you reached out to her boyfriend about your concerns. It sounds to me like you did try to help her.”

I shook my head. “I could have done more for her. I could have been more empathetic.”

“I get it.” Finally her voice had some emotion behind it. Before she sounded like some robotic customer service representative. “My mother committed suicide and I feel like I should have done things differently too. The shrink I see says I shouldn’t blame myself but it’s hard not to.” Rose let out a sigh and pulled herself back together. “How often do you experience SP?”

It took me a moment to follow her train of thought. She dropped a bomb on me and then swept right passed it.

“A few times a week lately. I’ll go months without an episode, then it will become more frequent for a while. It has to do with stress,” I told her.

“Have you found anything that helps to reduce episodes?”

“Drinking.” I held my bottle up in a cheers to myself. I sat on my bed, leaning up against the wall with a pillow behind me.

“Alcohol? Does that really help?”

“No, not really. I wouldn’t recommend it. It helped at first but now it just makes me not care as much that it’s happening.”

“Hmm. I smoke weed at night for the same reason.” She paused for a moment, “have you ever smoked before?”

“Once.” With Sara. God, everything that came out of this girl’s mouth reminded me of Sara.

We stayed up talking for hours after that, getting to know each other. Rose told me that she had recently found her mother’s diary, where she described her own instances of sleep paralysis. While Rose did believe it was paranormal and I didn’t, we came to the agreement that there was a link between sleep paralysis and mental health issues- depression, anxiety, PTSD. It all went hand in hand.

I listened to Rose talk about her out of body experiences, how she had been training herself to detach her soul from her body during sleep paralysis and shoot energy balls as her interdimensional intruders. She told me about how her and her mother to share the same dreams and that she would astral project to the astral plane, hoping to find he mother there so she could say goodbye one last time. She said she wanted me to astral project with her, so we could be together, but I said I’d rather just take her out on a date. Her ramblings were nonsensical, yet she spoke them with such conviction that I wanted to believe.

Rose said that since it was summer she had been waiting until sunrise to let herself sleep. We stayed up until then talking. When we finally did go to sleep we left our phones beside us on speaker, so if something did happen to one or both of us, the other person would be on the line. It was the first night in weeks I had slept without having a nightmare or an episode of sleep paralysis.

We texted each other all that next day, then at night we spoke on the phone for hours on end. This went on for a few days. By the end of the first night, I was already hounding her about meeting up. she invited me to meet her at this house party she was attending on Friday night.

Thanks to our late-night chats, not only was I sleeping better but I had also stopped drinking. I wanted to be coherent in our conversations. I wanted her to think that I was smart and funny, not some loser teenage alcoholic. But- before going to meet her at this party in Fall River, a half an hour drive away, I did have a little liquid courage to calm my nerves.

When I pulled up to the house and parked along the street, she was out on the driveway waiting for me. She wore cut-off shorts and a black crop top, and a light jacket over it, despite it being the middle of July and eighty degrees outside. Over her shoulders, she wore a mini black backpack.

Despite her heavy make-up, she was still gorgeous. Even more so in person. Slim build but great legs. Her friend Genesis was starting next to her, holding her hand. Genesis taller than Rose but not my much. Her hair was clearly bleached blonde and fell in tight, corkscrew curls. She was dressed in a similar outfit. They were staring at my car and whispering among themselves. When I got out, Rose let out a squeal that I could hear from all the way over where I was standing.

Rose looked terrified, her eyes as wide as saucers. She had never even had a first kiss before and while I wanted to rush over and give that to her, what I wanted more was for her to feel comfortable.

“Hi Raiden,” Genesis called on Rose’s behalf as I approached them.

“That’s Genna,” Rose said, still clutching her friend’s hand. I could barely hear her.

“I know. I recognize her as your only Myspace friend.”

When I got up to them, it struck me how much I towered over them. A though occurred, what if she’s lying about her age? But I pushed it back to the far corners of my mind. Rose told me she was fifteen, sixteen on November 27th. My birthday was exactly a month after hers, I’d be turning eighteen. Our age difference wasn’t too bad. She had mentioned on the phone that she was petite.

Genna pealed Rose’s hand off of hers and shoved her in my direction before turning her back and walking away. Rose watched her friend go before turning to me. I stood still like I was offering food to a timid deer. Where was the bold girl whom I had spoken to over the phone?

Suddenly she was running towards me. She leapt up and I caught her in my arms. She wrapped her legs around my waist and initiated the first kiss. I let her have a little peck then tilted my head back farther. She groaned, her fingernails pricking the back of my neck. Our noses brushed before we kissed again. I melted into it.

I put her back down and we looked each other over.

“I’ve never been to a house party before,” I said, to break the ice.

“I don’t really like these types of parties,” she confessed.

“Why are we here then?”

“It just so happens that this party is only a couple blocks away from where a dear old friend of mine lives. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to pay him a visit.”

Him? Confusion, jealousy, rage bubbled up in my chest.

“You can come with me,” she clarified. “I want you to.” She batted her eyelashes at me and held her hand out for me to take but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to.

“Who’s your friend?” I asked, looking down at her with narrowed eyes.

“Andrew. You probably know him since you went to Freetown Lakeville Middle. Andrew Arslanian.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “Mr. Arslanian? The fucking science teacher?”

She giggled at my surprise. “That’s the one. Part science teacher, part pervert. He stays busy.”

“How do you know that? Did he hurt you? What are you going to do to him?” So many questions and finding the answers wouldn’t make me feel any better.

“No. Not me,” Rose chuckled ironically. “This girl, Danielle. They had an affair. She was too young to know what she was getting into-“

Two girls stumbled out of the party, leaving the door wide open. The music was playing so loud that I could feel the bass in my bones.

Rose lowered her voice, “he knocked her up, then tried to throw money at her and threaten her into having an abortion until she moved away. Dani and I aren’t even friends anymore but that’s a whole ‘nother story. This was all long time ago.”

“Why wait til now to go after Mr. Arslanian? What are you going to do to him?”

“Chill. I’m not going to burn his house done or anything.” She took off her tiny backpack and unzipped it to allow me a peek inside. A single can of red spray paint and a wallet.

“And honestly, I haven’t thought of him in a long time but since I’m in the neighborhood…” She cocked her head and smiled at me, batting her eyelashes persuasively.

“How do you even know his address?”

“The internet.” She shrugged.

“I just-“ I didn’t want to come off like a buzzkill or an asshole. “I came all this way to hang out with you not to vandalize my eighth-grade teacher’s house.”

Her cheeks blushed. “I want to hang out with you too. This won’t take long, and you can pick what we do next.”

“I guess I’m in then,” I said with a scoff and an eyeroll.

She jumped for joy and let out a big, “Yesss!”

“But next time, tell me ahead of time when you have a crazy idea like this.”

“For sure I will.” She took my hands, intertwined her fingers in mine and started leading me down the sidewalk. “I’m so glad you agreed to join me because the Lucy I took should kick in soon an-“

I stopped dead in my tracks, bringing her to an abrupt halt as well. “What?!”

“Lucy. It’s slang for-“

“LSD,” I finished for her.

“It’s probably best that someone will be looking after me when it kicks in.”

I looked at her, then back to my car, and really contemplated leaving. Rose had told me about her experiences with various drugs, Xanax, coke, and of course weed. Genesis brought her into this world and Rose liked to experiment.

“I saved a stamp for you.” She looked up at me with angel eyes.

I knew a time would come when I’d be offered something questionable. Under different circumstances, I’d be more inclined to want to try LSD but not at a damn party. Not when we both have a history of mental illness. It seemed like an awful idea. I wasn’t about to explain that to her because I didn’t want her thinking I was a loser.

I liked her. A lot. There had other women, I was no virgin, but I had never had a serious relationship before. No one’s mind enticed me as much as Rose’s. I had never shared a connection like this with anybody. No one’s eyes had ever hypnotized me in such a way that my brain shut off entirely. I couldn’t blow this so soon, so I forced a smile over my haunted expression.

“Let me give you some money for mine at least.”

“No, it’s okay. Genna and her boyfriend TJ just gave them to me.” She fumbled in her purse and took out her wallet, out of her billfold, she handed me a stamp. Not the postage kind.

“Don’t chew it or swallow it, just leave it on your tongue for a while.” She held out her finger with the tiny white square on top and I took it and did as instructed.

“It’s my first time taking acid too so this should be interesting.” She giggled.

“How long ago did you take yours?” I asked, trying to judge how long I’d have until it set in.

“Right before you got here,” she replied. “TJ said it’d take about fifteen minutes to half an hour before I felt anything. He’s a total douche but at least he’s good for party favors.”

We locked hands again. My hands were so much bigger than hers and she had to hold hers above her waist to align it with my own.

“Why don’t you like TJ?”

“He’s a pedo too. Dude’s twenty years old. He has no business hanging out with girls as young as me and Genna.”

“Why don’t you tell your friend that?”

“She knows how old he is. She doesn’t care. Just thinks he’s with her because she’s so mature. Trust me, if I told her what I really thought about him, she’d choose him over me. Love makes people stupid and blind.”

I could see that now…

“Girls get obsessed with these random ass guys that come into their lives. No depth or anything unique about them. That’s why I never bothered dating. I never met anyone who truly compelled me.” She squeezed my hand. “Until now.”

“I must really like you because I can’t say no to you.” I grinned at her.

She lit up when I said that. There was no point in either of us trying to play it cool. No way she could have hidden that ear to ear smile. Under the streetlamps, I spotted freckles on her cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, underneath all that make-up. Such a shame that she covered them up.

“Are you a natural blonde?” I asked.

“Yeah but my natural color is a little darker than it is now.”

I kept looking at her. Her familiarity drove me nuts, like when a word is on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite remember what it is.

“It’s weird that I have no memory of interacting with you when you were a customer at my work.”

“You see a lot of customers come through there every day.”

“Yeah but I remember the pretty ones. And I’d definitely remember your face. Especially since you said you come in there a lot.”

“You were the main reason I was coming in there for a while. Just because I thought you were so handsome.” She laughed at herself. I could feel her hand shaking in mine. It was a little sweaty too.

“Are you serious? That’s…slightly creepy but also flattering. Does that mean you have ulterior motives when you friended me on Myspace?”

“I saw that as my way in, yes. When I heard those kids talking about you having sleep paralysis, I took it as a sign that we were meant to get to know each other.”

“When you first invited me to this party, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to come. I’m really glad we’re hanging out, just you and me. Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“Me either. I have social anxiety. I’m more comfortable with a small group of people. Or with just you.” She led us across the street, onto a different road.

“You’re pretty social though. You’re more outgoing than me.”

“It’s all an act, I’m actually pretty shy.”

“You don’t seem very shy to me.”

“Really. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always felt like something was wrong with me. Something that everyone else can see too. I became really withdrawn so obviously, it was always hard for me to make friends. But then I learned this thing from Dexter, have you seen that show? Or read the books?”

“Dexter’s Laboratory?”

“No!” Rose laughed. “Dexter the serial killer. He only kills bad guys. Anyway, he talks about having to wear this mask to blend in with the rest of society because duh he’s a killer and he works around a bunch of cops but I kind of took that concept and applied it to my own life. Did you know that Paris Hilton is actually smart? She just plays a character to mask her true self?”

“I have no idea,” I replied.

“That’s what I do. I play a character. I say and do crazy things because….people think of me as one thing and my true self hides behind that persona. I pretend my life is a realty show, and I do whatever I want. I know that all sounds weird. I’ve always been real with you though.”

“I get where you’re coming from. Blend in with the normies so they don’t question you too much.”

“Right because when you’re quiet, people can fill your silence with whatever they want.” Her words hung in the air, echoing on a loop in my mind.

She pulled her hand from mine and I worried she was suddenly upset with me. She took off her backpack and dropped it on the ground. I picked it up and held it for her.

“It’s so hot,” she said as she took her jacket off.

Before I could open my mouth to ask her why she was even wearing it, I saw the angry, red welts on the pale skin of her freckled bicep. Four of them at least, but there were more that looked faded.

“What are those?” I asked, running my index finger over them raised scars.

“Oh, right. That’s why I was wearing the jacket,” Rose said, more to herself than to me. She sighed as she shoved her arms back into it.

“You don’t have to cover them up but what happened to you?” I pulled her jacket back off to get another look at them. “Are they cigarette burns? Who’s hurting you?”

Rose chuckled at me. “It was just me, don’t worry.”

“I am worried though. Why would you do that to yourself?”

“I get overwhelmed sometimes, and it helps to ground me. Don’t judge.”

“It’s not exactly a healthy coping mechanism.”

“Neither is your drinking,” she shot back. Her eyes were narrowed but she wore a ‘gotcha’ smile. “You don’t want to be like my dad, unable to hold down a job. He tells us he quit, he’s gonna sober up, but he just tries to hide it. He never knows what’s going on, it’s really embarrassing.” Her voice was louder and more emotional than usual.

“You’re right. I know. What I do is another form of self-harm. I’ll make you a deal though, I stop drinking and you stop burring yourself, okay?”

“What about a wager?” she asked with a grin. She pondered the terms of the wager for a moment. “Whoever loses has to give the other person oral sex.”

Laughter boomed from my chest. “No, that’s fucked up. I don’t want to benefit from you hurting yourself. Besides, if we did that, I’d just go back to the party and have a drink.”

We shared a laugh at that.

“I rather just make it a pact,” I went on. “If you feel the urge, just reach out to me and talk to me about it – or your friend Genesis. And I’ll do the same, okay?” I extended my arm for a handshake.

“Deal,” she said, taking my hand. I pulled her in for a hug, our lips found each other’s, and we kissed softly but hungrily. Euphoria pulsed through my veins. She pulled away too soon.

“Let’s just this over with, before I start tripping.”

She led the way through the neighborhood, knowing exactly where she was going. We walked at a quick pace until we came upon a two-story yellow painted home.

3342 Snyder Lane.

She took out the spray paint can and shook it, I worried about the noises. There was no car out front in the driveway but there was always a two-car garage, so it was hard to tell if anyone was home.

Wind blew in through the trees overhead. Rose looked up at the swaying branches in awe. She waved back to them.

“Rose! Hurry it up,” I urged her in a whisper.

She looked to me, confused, and then down at the spray paint can in her hand. Dropping to her knees, she was mesmerized by the paint exiting the can. “I’m creating universes,” she told herself.

She put her other hand into the stream of paint.

“Stop,” I said. “You don’t want to get caught red handed, do you?”

She looked up at me and then down at her red palm, laughing at my pun. I took the spray can away from her and told her I’d do it.

Ask me about Danielle, I wrote on the driveway in messy print. Underneath that, I added, I’m a pedo, to make our accusations clear.

I looked up for Rose and nearly had a heart attack when I saw her peeking in through the first story window. I ran up behind her but then froze.

There was sheer, red, fabric over the window but we could still see what was going on in the house. People, maybe ten of them, all wearing plain black masks but with a red upside-down triangle drawn over the forehead. They were dancing around. In the center of their circle was a man tied to a chair. He was slouched over, still, eyes open and unblinking. They were taking turns stabbing his already dead body.

“Get away from there,” I said, a little too loud. Because one of them stopped in their tracks and looked out through the window, right at us. This person’s sudden stop in rotation caused the others to bump into them.

Without thinking, I picked Rose up and threw over my shoulder. I ran out of there like a bat out of hell. Her backpack clapped against her with every step. The adrenaline must have given me extra strength because I ran like that with her on my back for blocks and blocks, until, I couldn’t take it anymore. I set her on the ground, and we ran together hand in hand for what felt like an eternity. All I knew was the run. A running being was my identity. I couldn’t think of anything else. I can’t tell you how long we ran or how far we got. Rose led us and not in a straight direction, to confuse whoever might have been following us. We went through people’s backyards, up and over fences. Repeatedly.

I could have kept going but Rose was out of breath and collapsed herself onto someone’s yard. She repeated, “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t do it.”

“Did you see what I saw?” I asked, my hands rested on my knees as I gasped for air. When I closed my eyes, I saw geometric shapes breathing. Circles morphing into triangles, then into diamonds, then into hexagons.

“They were killing him,” Rose said in a weak voice, burying her face in the grass.

“He was already dead.”

My voice didn’t sound like my own. I felt like we were in virtual reality, like I was at home playing video games and none of this was even real. “They saw us. We need to keep moving.” I reached my hand down to help her up.

“I can’t run anymore. I always knew if I was in a horror movie, that I wouldn’t survive the run. Go on without me. Save yourself.”

“It’s my responsibility to protect you,” I replied. “You’re my girlfriend.”

I was just as surprised of those words coming out of my mouth as she was. She smiled and it was like everything was okay. For a second there, time stood still, and I felt perfectly sober. But then everything got wavy again.

She allowed me to help her to her feet. “I’m your girlfriend?”

“Why else would I be going through all this shit for you? Now c’mon. We can walk but we have to move forward.”

“I don’t know how to get home.”

I looked around my surroundings, only now realizing that we were utterly lost. “You mean back to the party?”

“Oh, right. I forgot about that stupid party.”

“Did you want me to take you home? Because I would.”

“No way. I couldn’t bear to see my mother right now.” I just looked at her. Her mother was dead, but it probably wasn’t the best moment to remind her of that.

I tried to remember the route we took to get to where we were. If I could remember where Mr. Arslanian lived, maybe I could get us back to the party. What I needed was a weapon though, to make sure that we got back safely.

The best I could find in the moment was a large stick. I picked it up and held it over my shoulder. “This way,” I told Rose, leading her in the direction that felt right.

The threat might have been gone but my paranoia remained. All the houses looked the same. We were in an endless labyrinth. I tried to have a conversation with Rose while we walked, to add some normalcy to the evening. My mind would loop, and then I’d completely forget what I was thinking about. I’d forget what I was saying, midsentence. My words came out a mush. We didn’t see any people outside or even cars driving by and that had me feeling like I was in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Soon the zombies would come.

Things got weirder when I had the sudden sensation that I was actually my father and I was lost in the void between Earth and the afterlife. I was his ghost, trying to escape from some evil force that beckoned to me. My breath hitched. I could feel my insides vibrating. Everything was vibrating. I sat down in the grass, hoping that the feeling would pass.

“Are you okay?” Rose asked, the first time she had spoken in a while.

“I’m going to a bad place.” I covered my face with my hands in shame.

“You don’t have to,” she told me. “Genna warned me about bad trips. She told me that if you think bad thoughts, of course you’ll have a bad trip. But you can have a good time too, it’s all in how you approach it. You’re thinking too much,” she said. I couldn’t fathom how she could say so many words.

“Just lie back and enjoy the ride.”

What a concept. All my life, I’ve never been able to do just that.

It was a clear night and the stars were visible. For a moment it felt like I was the pilot of a spaceship. Then after staring at them for too long, they didn’t even look real anymore. A hologram. I broke the celestial trance and shifted my gaze over to her. The most beautiful being I had ever laid eyes on, she made this all worth it.

Feeling my stare Rose looked over at me, brushing her fingers over my face. “This is all worth it because we’re together.”

“I was just thinking that exact same thing,” I said, finally finding my words. “You read my mind.”

She rolled over on her side and I did the same. We were almost nose to nose.

“Remember what I told you on the phone? If we practice reading each other’s minds, soon we'll be able to dream share.”

I thought of the game she taught me to play over the phone. One person clears their mind and closes their eyes, holding a picture of the other person in their mind. The other person focuses on sending a mental transmission, through a beam of light from their forehead, the other person. I wasn’t very good at the game.

“What am I thinking?” she asked. “The category is fruit.”

I did as instructed and waited to receive her transmission. “Grapes,” I said as the image suddenly popped up in my mind.

“What kind of grapes?”

My eyes tried to flutter open, but I forced them shut. “Was I right? They’re green.” The picture was so clear, I could almost taste them. I looked at her for conformation.

She nodded and smiled. “Yes, green grapes.. The acid must be helping us connect.”

“I’ll try to send one to you,” I said. “It’s a shape and a color.”

We both laid back in the grass. I closed my eyes, held her in my mind. The light stemming from my forehead was so bright it was like I could really see it.

“Blue, a circle- no wait now it’s a triangle.” She opened her eyes and asked if she was right.

I nodded and told her to close her eyes again. “I’ll send you a number now.”

“Twenty-seven,” she said, in no time at all. “I can see it clear as day. And the numbers are in white bubble lettering with yellow polka-dots.” I was in awe, unable to speak. Good thing that I didn’t need to anymore.

“It’s the date of both or birthdays,” she went on.

“That’s why I was thinking of it. You also mentioned on the phone that you liked that number.”

“Wow,” Rose said. “I can’t believe we mastered teleportation.” We both laughed as she realized she said the wrong word.

“Telepathy,” I corrected. “I think we’d need a little more acid for teleportation.”

Music started playing out of nowhere. It was really creepy until we realized it was coming from Rose’s phone. I had completely forgotten we carried such devices.

“Whoa, the screen is all over the place,” Rose said before answering.

“I just wanted to check in,” I heard Genesis say. “Where are you guys?”

“We’re lost,” Rose replied.

There was a male’s voice in the background. Genesis had us walk to a street corner and tell her the names of the roads on the intersection we were on. It was hard to read the sign. The letter flew off and were carried away by the wind. After discussion with the other person she was with, Genesis told us to stay where we were and that she’d come find us.

I told Rose that it might be dangerous for Genesis to be walking the streets by herself. The masked ones who had engaged in the ritual could still be looking for us. Rose tried to tell Genesis about Mr. Arslanian and what we saw through his window, but Genesis just started laughing.

“You can tell it’s their first time tripping,” she said to someone else. “TJ’s coming with me. We’re on our way. Just sit tight,” Genesis told Rose before hanging up.

When we saw two figures approaching us, walking in the middle of the road, Rose jumped up and down with excitement. “They found us! We’re saved.”

She took off running towards her friend. I was shocked when both girls lifted up their shirts, revealing their bras underneath. They howled when they bumped their chests together.

Genesis’ boyfriend must have noticed my expression because he explained that was like their secret handshake. He introduced himself as TJ, while the girls were jumping all over each other. He looked like how I imagined he would, old as hell. He had long greasy hair, with a black cap over his head. A full beard, I must have looked like a child next to him. He wore a white t-shirt with holes in it and jeans that hung down below the waist. I didn’t like him. He instantly gave me bad vibes. I would have rather been lost with Rose forever.

As we walked back to the party, which apparently we were only a couple of blocks away from, the girls walked together ahead of us, chatting gleefully back and forth. Rose was telling Genesis that I was her boyfriend and Genesis was really excited about the whole thing.

TJ pulled me back to slow our pace, he grabbed my roughly. “You be good to our Rosie.” That instantly pissed me off. Rose was not his. “She’s a wild one. No experience but she’s ready to learn to fuck.” I was ready to kick this fucker’s ass.

“I coulda had her but she didn’t like the idea of a three-way relationship. She thought Genna would be mad at her but Genna said she woulda been cool with it.”

If Mr. A and his friends needed another sacrifice, I had just the guy for them.

“I never met two girls with such dirty minds,” he had the audacity to continue. “You’ll have fun wit her, I bet. But yo, if you’re gonna stick it to ‘er, don’t go ghost after tonight. That would make her sad. Which would make Genesis sad. Which would fuck wit my own life, ya feel me?”

“I don’t plan on ghosting her and I don’t plan on sleeping with her tonight either. I like her. I’m not trying to rush anything. I want to see where it goes.”

“Bro sex on acid is fucking magical. You should try it sometime. Are you having a good trip?”

“I’d be enjoying it more if I didn’t just see my old science teacher having a satanic ritual.”

He laughed at me, “You’re funny, man.”

We could hear the music from down the street and started to run towards it, grateful to be freed from the maze. Back at the party, my mood did a three-sixty. Genesis and TJ shared a joint with us, which put me on another level for sure, but the euphoria was back. Genesis kept taking pictures. Rose and I even danced. Our bodies moving to the music without having to think twice about it. After working up a sweat, we went to the refreshment table and drank some water.

“They’re so many of them! They’re multiplying,” Rose said, mesmerized by a tray of cupcakes. “Why’s no one eating them? I don’t want to be the only one who eats one. What’s wrong with these people?”

I encouraged her to just take one and she looked at me, her eyes mischievous.

“I have a better idea,” she grinned. “Carry the tray upstairs for me, I’m scared I’d drop it.”

“What do you want to do with them?” I asked.

“We could put the frosting on each other’s bodies and lick it off.” She didn’t have to tell me twice, I grabbed the tray and we headed to the second floor.

#fiction writer #romance writing #horror writing #poetry #writeblr #creative writing #amwriting #grunge asthetic #sleep paralysis #demons #cult

0 notes

artificialqueens · 7 years ago

Text

party chapter thirteen - shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - i know it’s been so long. in fact, it’s been about eight months. it became difficult for me to continue this fic after it coming under fire so much. i was told it was cheap and stupid and as a fairly young writer, it got to me. i lost all motivation.

but we were so close to the end. we were moments away.

it’s short. but this is how i envisioned it. i hope you enjoy, thank you so much to anyone who read this. it means a lot <3

Their cab ride back home had been spent in a relatively awkward silence. For one, it seemed as though Sharon was slightly more rattled from running into her ex than she wanted to let on. Her knee was bouncing, the bones prominent through the thin fabric of her jeans. Alaska just needed a moment to mull over what had just happened, from the encounter right up to the impromptu confession she’d made.

It wasn’t a big deal, right? That was what the whole debacle spanning several months had been about. Alaska loved Sharon. Sharon loved Alaska. It had, essentially, ruined a tour, Sharon’s health, and the peace of mind of nearly all of their friends. So it wasn’t a big deal, that much was clear now. They were in love.

And yet it still felt like one. Mark’s words rang in her ears incessantly.

You’re good at brainwashing people, Aaron.

Sharon wasn’t a bad person. A four year relationship and a friendship afterwards had cemented that fact in Alaska’s mind. But that didn’t change that Sharon had an ugly side, a darker side, beyond the one that was revealed under the influence of illicit substances. There was the side of her that was nihilistic, offensive, the side that didn’t give a shit because she didn’t have a reason to. That side of her was rare, but it still existed.

Surely Sharon wasn’t lying, though. They’d been through so much together. No matter how cheap and stupid it may have seemed, the hard times had brought them together. It had been a wake-up call in many circumstances, from relationships to just plain health. It wasn’t something Sharon could lie about.

As they walked towards the front door – Sharon having paid for the ride and taken hold of Alaska’s hand as soon as they stepped out – Alaska started to relax again. She was just getting stressed; it was natural after such a weird turn of events. To walk hand in hand in the streets of Pittsburgh, a city now infamous thanks to the pair of them, that in itself was enough to skew her mind a little bit. Mark and his stupid little mind games were just the cherry on top of the stress cake.

Sharon flung herself down onto her couch as soon as she got inside, too tired to even properly take her shoes off. Instead, she opted to kick and shake them off as best as she could as she sank into the cushions, pulling Alaska down with her.

“So, you just said you loved me.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did.” Sharon persisted. “I heard it. I heard it come right out of your little mouth.”

Alaska chuckled at the childish game. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

“Like who?” Sharon laughed. “Who could I possibly have you confused with?”

She pretended to think. “Hmm. A boa constrictor?”

“I prefer feather boas.” Sharon muttered decisively. “They’re prettier. I know I heard you, Lasky. I even said it back. Don’t deny it.”

“Well then,” Alaska replied smugly. “If you know you heard it, why do you need to mention it again?”

Sharon puckered her lips for a kiss. Alaska gladly obliged.

“To make extra sure.” She said. “You don’t think I spent so many months worrying about this not to double check it, did you?”

Alaska softened. “The worrying can stop, Noodles. No amount of ugly exes, past relationships or overdoses are gonna stop me from loving you. I’m not encouraging any of those things, but… they won’t stop me loving you the way I do. Things turned out okay in the end, didn’t they?”

Alaska knew the saying was ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’, but she wanted to change it. Stronger was perhaps a better word. They’d broken each other down and built one another back up again over years and years, and if anything, their hearts were stronger than they’d been before. More in tune than they’d ever been before. It seemed a break was all they needed, and that was all it had been; a break, not a break up.

The pair were comfortably silent for a while. There was no need to dive on top of one another, ravaging each other with kisses and sex and hickeys and everything that the love novels suggested. Rekindling a fire never encompassed dumping a bottle of gasoline and a box of matches onto the wood. Like a fire, it needed to be dealt with slowly, carefully, bit by bit until they got it right.

They had all the time in the world.

(7) New Messages

Willam: Alaska

Willam: Goddammit you fucking snake why are you never awake when important news is breaking

Willam: good luck when you wake up bitch

Courtney: bill! This is serious!

Michelle: Not sure if you’ve seen Instagram and Twitter, but I’d hurry there if I were you. I’m guessing you’re not awake, but…

- Michelle Visage has sent a link –

It had been so comfortable, sat next to Sharon on the couch in silence, that Alaska wasn’t even aware the pair of them had drifted off until she suddenly awoke. Sharon’s hand was resting on her thigh, her head on her neck, and in Alaska’s right hand her phone flashed continuously. Stirring herself cautiously, so as not to wake up Sharon, she unlocked it and groggily read her messages.

Oh for fuck’s sake, she thought to herself. Not again. Why is it that the moment I’m happy, the moment anything good happens, something appears online?

A feeble part of her brain tried to convince herself otherwise. Maybe it wasn’t what she thought? Maybe it was just some snotty club cancelling one of her gigs, another article proclaiming Sharon to be a drug-obsessed Nazi – something standard and easy to brush off. There was a good chance it was another fan taking a stab at finding proof of ‘shalaska’, which again was fairly easy to ignore, if slightly amusing. Some of their theories were wild and some of them were, well, hilariously accurate.

Feeling a little blasé about the whole thing, Alaska opened her twitter. Nothing unusual. Mrs Kasha Davis spreading her positivity. A naked black guy with a gigantic cock, with a small ‘liked by Coco Montrese’ at the top of the photo. Katya spouting strangely ominous nonsense. Phi Phi interacting with fans. Ultimately, nothing seemed out of place.

She clicked trending. Various idiotic topics greeted her as usual. A sporting event, the resignation of a famous player who played… something, a funny hashtag about describing your boss with a movie title, and –

Oh.

That was what they meant.

Despite the words seeming frivolous, Alaska’s heart rate sped up upon reading them. #SharonNeedlesIsOverParty was one of the few trending topics, with a couple of hundred tweets about it.

Heart suddenly filled with dread, Alaska clicked. The first tweet, the most liked and retweeted one of all, was from an oddly familiar source.

Mark - @thatmarkman – Feb 1st

Imagine your already-shitty boyfriend leaving you to go date/fuck the ex that he abused #SharonNeedlesIsOverParty @SHARON_NEEDLES

-picture-

Enlarging the image, Alaska saw it was of herself – blurry, and from the back, but most definitely her. Her hand was entwined with the hand of somebody who hadn’t quite made it into the picture, but she knew was Sharon.

She swiped. This time the two of them were in it, still holding hands, at a side angle that would easily clear any doubts over the first image. Sharon’s side profile was abundantly clear, Alaska’s face almost fully visible. It was incriminating evidence.

angie<3 - @katyasbabyslut2004 – Feb 1st

WHY IS @SHARON_NEEDLES TRYING TO RUIN ALASKA’S CAREER JUST LIKE HERS >:( #SharonNeedlesIsOverParty

Ben||3 days - @delanoactzamomattel – Feb 1st

Wow i sure do love unstanning racist nazi cheaters! #SharonNeedlesIsOverParty

Victoria Ulgard - @trixyalaska49 – Feb 1st

Sum1 tell me this is photoshopped #sharonneedlesisoverparty

56 days - @adoorcilantrosplaid – Feb 1st

Feel like ive waited years for this damn hashtag to be a thing #SharonNeedlesIsOverParty #FINALLY

AB - @kimorasblackk – Feb 1st

Ew shalaska really? #gross #sharonneedlesisOVERparty

Leon :D - @leoshakesqueere1 – Feb 1st

Can someone explain whats going on omg i thought they broke up bc it was abusive?? #shalaska?? #sharonneedlesisoverparty

They went on and on, each one slamming Sharon, or Alaska, or both of them. A few were kind, clogging up the negative tag with positivity, but it did little to fix the issue.

Everything was now out in the open.

This was the last thing Sharon needed, and Alaska knew it. The recovery would be, and already had been, rough. It wasn’t going to get any easier anytime soon, and she didn’t need the added stress of seeing people going bananas over something that didn’t involve them. Sharon was more private than she liked to let on – this would only stress her out.

“Lasky?”

Alaska had been so caught up in scrolling through the madness that she didn’t notice Sharon stirring on her shoulder until the older queen spoke. She was squinting, her glasses having fallen off into her lap, and her brow was furrowed down at her own mobile.

“Why is Michelle texting me?”

A heavy sigh escaped from Alaska’s lips. She couldn’t lie about it. It was inevitable that Sharon would find out; she might as well deliver the news as gently as she could.

“…Your asshole of an ex told the world about us.”

She waited for the reaction.

After a couple of seconds of silence, Sharon nestled down into Alaska’s shoulder again, her eyelids still heavy from sleep.

She yawned. “Is that it?”

Alaska shifted her arm to pull Sharon closer to her, appreciating the calming warmth of having another body by her side. Sharon dropped her phone into her lap, not caring about it, and opened her eyes momentarily to gaze into Alaska’s.

“The thing is…” She began sluggishly, clearly still half-asleep. “It doesn’t fucking matter… ‘cause, I love you baby. ‘N you love me too. The whole world don’t have to love us.”

Within seconds of soliloquising, her eyes were closed again, her body growing heavier against Alaska’s. She sounded so sure, so certain, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It didn’t matter, she was positive. All that mattered was their love shared, right?

Alaska wasn’t as convinced as she wanted to be. “I don’t know, Sharon… this could have repercussions. It’s so soon…”

“Trust me, pumpkin… you lose a gig, I lose a gig… doesn’t matter. We’re famous ‘n involved in a scandal. We’re hot shit.”

The words were so painfully Sharon that Alaska couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe she was right after all. Logically, she knew it wasn’t going to get any worse than this. Mean tweets, or perhaps a rude comment, or something snotty on Reddit – that would be the beginning and end of their troubles. Of course Sharon’s overdose would remain a problem, but at the same time, the news was dying down. It seemed as though, when it came to Ru Girls, everything flared up for days and then dissipated again.

It was cliché. Beyond cliché. But that didn’t matter. Alaska switched off her phone, putting it face down on the coffee table and gently stroking Sharon’s hair.

Gigs didn’t matter. Mean comments didn’t matter. Unkind tweet and speculations didn’t matter.

What mattered was happiness, love and health.

Happiness. Only months ago, Alaska had expected she wouldn’t find proper happiness again. Confusion shrouded her mind from the obvious, pulling her away from her instinctive thoughts. She stopped following her gut and started following her head, knowing in the back of her mind that this was the same head that caused her self-depreciating thoughts. The head that caused the meltdowns, the tantrums, the angry fits that made her appear overly-competitive and petty. In hindsight, she needn’t have listened to her head. Her heart knew what it wanted. Her heart knew what it needed.

Love. That had been the difficult one. She hadn’t even wanted to recognise the way she was feeling, and had just silenced herself in order to keep up the illusion. In a hotel years ago, she’d decided to listen to her heart and break away – and in another hotel later on, she’d decided not to. For so long she denied herself the very idea; love doesn’t die when a relationship does. It had taken a while. And maybe, just maybe, it didn’t feel as explosive and all-consuming and fiery as it had when they were young, dumb and broke. Maybe, just maybe, the gentle warmth and softness between them, the delicacy of Sharon’s sleeping face and the weight of her body next to her, was enough. Maybe, just maybe, that was love too.

Health. Admittedly, they weren’t doing too well at this one. But it was a start. Sharon was starting to get better. The problem was acknowledged, and being tackled. After one of her many mood swings from angry to guilty, she’d told Alaska she was going to limit her cigarette intake. Originally, she’d decided to quit completely – a resolution that lasted all of five minutes before a craving struck her. Still, it was something. Drugs were out of the window and cigarettes were slowly disappearing. It was something. Progression.

It wasn’t perfect. They would never be perfect. Alaska would always be sensitive, a perfectionist, and prone to reacting negatively when things didn’t always go her way. Sharon would always want to find solace in a bar, to block out the bad feelings with a substance or two, and revert back to her old ways. They would never be perfect. And love certainly wasn’t going to fix that.

But there was nothing they could do to change the imperfections.

So, with as much blasé as she could muster, a brief imitation of her old old friend, Alaska smiled to herself.

Party.

#shalaska #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #party #purecamp #rpdr fanfiction #submission #party by purecamp

31 notes · View notes