#ok so. i was inspired last night and wanted to do something funky like this

[ccaptain]

--- [ AUDIO-RECORDING-DATA RECOVERED. VIDEO-RECORDING-DATA RECOVERED. CURRENTLY VIEWING: ASTRID-MORTIS.MEMORYBUBBLE ] ---

[ In the shot, there are ████ people. One of them has its wrists handcuffed, a long chain held in the hands of a young man with red hair that's clutching it like a lifeline. A girl, with the same red hair as him, is trying to talk with what appears to be a prisoner. ]

Astrid: I'm sorry- did we tied the chain too tight? I can loosen it- [ WARNING: AUDIO DATA CORRUPTED. SOME PARTS OF THE BUBBLE MAY NOT PLAY CORRECTLY. ] ???: ██. ██'█ ████ ████ ████. █████ ███.  Astrid: Are you sure? Mortis: Sister... Astrid: ...Sorry- Mortis: He's an outlaw. I didn't handcuffed and chained him because I wanted to doll him up, Stri.  Astrid: But- Mortis: You loosen his chain- and then what? He attacks and kills us before we can get him to the Monastery. Is that what you want? Astrid: No... Mortis: Good. Do the first night shift, then- and do it well. And you, [ a finger is pointed at the prisoner. ] do NOT try anything funny. I have a knife- don't think I'll go soft on you like my sister. If I hear her scream, we'll bring you to the Monastery headless.

[ The girl lowers her head back into her joined knees, while Mortis passes her the chain and walks out of field view. The figure that should be the prisoner is nebulous- its traits are not recorded well, consistently shifting against the memory bubble. The upper part of its face cannot be recorded clearly- what can be seen on the face is expressionless. ]

[ Some time seems to have passed in the memory. Astrid has walked back to the handbag by the side of her sleeping brother, and is ripping a loaf of bread in half. She approaches the prisoner, who has not moved from seemingly staring into the bonfire, and hands it a large piece. ]

Astrid: Here. Eat this. You must be hungry. ???: ...███'██ ███ ████. █████ ███. Astrid: [ chuckling ] It's okay! We have more. Let me untie you...

[ After a bit of work, the girl manages to free the prisoner, who rubs its wrists through the handcuffs. ]

???: ...█████ ███. Astrid: You're welcome! [ pause. ] I'm sorry about my brother. He's been on edge ever since... well, ever since we stumbled into you. He's very protective... ???: █ ███ ███ ████. ██'█ ████. ████ █████ ██ █████ █████ ███. Astrid: I know! But he can be so overprotective sometimes... Astrid: What's your name? ???: ...█████.  [ AUDIO-RECORDING RESTORED. ] Kaeya: My name is Kaeya. What's yours? Astrid: My name is Astrid! My brother is... Kaeya: Mortis. Yes? He made sure that I knew. It's nice to meet you both. Astrid, can you tell me what planet this is? Astrid: Of course! It's called Onirith-II.  Kaeya: Onirith-II... I see. I have no knowledge of this planet- this must be why your brother was able to ambush me so easily. He must know his own planet very well- I could have never seen that net coming from above. It was extremely skillful of him. Astrid: Yeah! Our family owns a fishing business down in the city- we make the best nets. Still- I'm sorry about that... you don't look or act like an outlaw. You're very nice and calm. Why are you wanted? Kaeya: ...In the eyes of certaint people, I have done things bad enough to warrant me a bounty. It's... a bit difficult to explain. And I don't want to burden you further. I, however, can promise you a thing: I will not turn on you and your brother. You have captured me fair and square. Astrid: Okay... See, we're not going to hurt you. We're just going to bring you to the Monastery- once you tell them these things you told me, I'm sure they'll understand. Maybe it was just a big misunderstanding... Kaeya: Perhaps. I'd like to explain to them that I am not a threat. Astrid... what is this Monastery you're talking about? Is it a prison? Astrid: Sort of! It's where justice is done on our planet. It's the biggest building in the city! All the liars of the planet get taken here to have a trial. And, depending on what lies the person has told, they get...

[ The girl falls quiet. The prisoner looks at her, and rips a piece of bread to offer Astrid with a small smile. ]

Astrid: Oh... thank you.

[ There's silence for a moment, with only the sounds of chewing, before Astrid starts again. Her tone is somber, her shoulders have sagged. ]

Astrid: It doesn't matter if the lie is big or small... you get taken here. And you get punished accordingly. If the lie is small, you get detained for a few days... but if the lie is big, then... Kaeya: I understand. You don't have to force yourself to tell me about it- I'm sorry if I made you relive some bad memories.  Astrid: It's fine! I never lie. But Mortis... Kaeya: ...your brother has lied, and has been detained. Or harmed by your government.  Astrid: Yeah... a lot of times. ...You won't lie to them, no? Kaeya?

[ Kaeya doesn't respond to that. He lowers his gaze on the dying embers, and holds the bread offered to him a little tighter. And then... His head snaps upwards, and stares right into the viewer's eyes. ]

[ >>FAST FORWARD? ] [ FAST FORWARD HAS BEEN DIS█BLED. ] [ WARNING: MALICIOUS PRESENCE DETECTED IN THE M█MORY BU█BLE. ] [ IT IS RECO█MEN█D T█ EX█T THE █ROJ█CTION IMM█DIA█EL█. ]

[ ERROR. ASTRID-MORTIS-MEMORYBUBBLE HAS BEEN CORRUPTED. VIEWING THIS BUBBLE MAY- ]

Kaeya: Whoever you are, these memories are not yours to perouse. Leave the children alone. They have suffered enough.

[ Kaeya's hand lunges forward, towards the viewer- and the memory bubble cracks as if a mirror shattered, expressionless face separating into a million, asymmetrical pieces before the scene goes dark.  Trying to visualize the memory again simply makes the bubble tremble as if about to pop. It's past saving from the corruption. ]

...

ITEM OBTAINED: a piece of BREAD, forever encased in transparent EPOXY. It's decorated with DROPLETS OF DRIED BLOOD and a little roughed up, but it survived. if pressed close to the ear, cries for help and a certaint name can be heard coming from it.

[vonlipvig]

top 5 places in argentina? like, places you'd recommend to foreigners visiting your country? especially if they're not particularly famous

(hope that's not too intrusive for you, it's alright if you're not comfortable answering!)

what a great question, thank you! (it probably will end up being popular places, but let's be honest, they're popular for a reason and i want everyone to know about them!)

bariloche - i think the south of argentina is possibly the most beautiful spot on earth, and i absolutely adore bariloche. yes, there are other towns that are probably prettier (san martín de los andes, villa la angostura, all worthy of a visit), but i've been lucky enough to go to bariloche many times thanks to a friend with family there, so it's very special to me. some of the most spectacular vistas everywhere, lots of trekking to do, sailing excursions, and even action adventures las rafting and the like, it's such a perfect place for me (bonus for my most favorite place there, the tea house bellevue, obligatory stop there!). i've only really visited during summer (except for that one time with the school graduation trip, of course), but i'd love to see it in winter, it must be gorgeous!

(here are some pics of mine, this last one is the view from bellevue, it's so dreamy!)

glaciar perito moreno - ok, while we're still in patagonia, i might as well mention the perito moreno glacier, cause it's honestly jawdropping. to be there, in silence, looking at that massive wall of ice, it's humbling and awe-inspiring, i don't know how else to put it. and if you're lucky enough to see the ice breaking and falling, i can't imagine how that would feel like. of course, global warming is definitely troubling when it comes to natural wonders like this, but man, it's simply incredible. i've heard there are excursions to walk on the ice as well, that's a bit scary to me, but it must be one hell of an experience.

valle de la luna and talampaya - two national parks (the first one literally called "valley of the moon", but its real name is national park ischigualasto) they are...something else. the valle de la luna is possibly the most otherwordly place i've ever seen. it's this vastness of rock carved by the wind, the sun, the water for millions of years, truly looking like an alien landscape. you can literally see the evolution of the earth in its geological formations, and it's also really important for paleontological research. talampaya is right next door and it's breathtaking as well, reddish and strange and wonderful (first pics are the valley of the moon, the other two talampaya).

cataratas del iguazú - probably the most famous one (natural wonder of the world!) but like, for a goddamned reason! absolutely insane experience that i'd love to relive someday because i was very young when i went there. but yeah, standing there and seeing the intense, beautiful, dangerous force of nature that is those immense waterfalls, it's crazy. i mean, one of the sections of the waterfall is called garganta del diablo, devil's throat, so yeah, this shit is POWERFUL. i'd loveee to do one of those crazy boat trips that get close to the waterfalls, that seems insane lmao. also i think they did night trips to the garganta del diablo? that must be a religious experience!

ciudad de buenos aires - i mean of courseeee i'm gonna say buenos airessss that is my PLACE. and sure, you know how a lot of the times natives end up knowing a lot less about their city than the tourists that come visit? yeah, i'm probably not the best guide, but i could show you the places that TRULY matter, like the botanical gardes that i love to chill in, and the street i love to walk on especially when the jacarandá trees are in bloom, or the cemetery that we all love, or that vegan place with kinda mid food but a really cool, funky atmosphere, or that escape room i've been meaning to go to. what i'm trying to say is that buenos aires is my place in the world, and i could never, ever leave here. i carry it in my bones and in my blood (and for the argentines reading this, Y SI, puta...y porteña <3). no professional, touristy pics here, just some random shit from my camera roll.

[magpies4nights]

GUYS DONT PRESS P ON THE TITLE SCREEN WORST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE (Dev log #15)

AT LAST, SUMMER IS HERE!!!!! I am so excited I can finally rest I- oh right. Summer classes. Sigh. Well, they don’t take up the whole day thank god and I don’t need to be there, but It’s still not exciting. Oh well. Maybe I’ll play the sims 4 again and check on how my poor little torture victims are doing/j Jk jk, I don’t torture my sims. Unless you consider naming them things probably EA wouldn't approve of, then yeah I guess I am a horrible person.

But yeah, on the week I released the demo (which by the way, thanks for the 58 views!!!! thas crazy) I was putting up with finals. Some of my classes had to be pushed to the next week, and that was INFURIATING. It was kinda agony because I just wanted everything to be done and over with and I was practically exhausted. Like sleeping at 7 pm exhausted. Yeah......Well, should I even talk about how my life is going? I flunked the review for my major. Thank god, honestly. I mean, I didn't do it on purpose, and I am sad in a way that I flunked it, but I didn't want to continue on the route I was going on. I feel kinda stupid for even trying but I guess it's ok to make mistakes in your early 20's rather than your 30's... for some reason.

Ok, dev time. I decided to take a break from making sprites for a bit. So I worked on a part of the game that I would have left a secret, but I think it’s quite funky hehehe

I like old computers. I would have replicated the windows XP thing because I have so many memories of it, but I'm scared Windows might snipe me or something. I once was lying on the couch my parents turned into a bed (I think I was sick at the time), and it was late at night, and the computer was shutting down (it played this sound: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gb2jGy76v0Y) and for some reason the noise absolutely scared the absolute living shit out of me (I think I was like 4-5 years old and I was terrified of bassy sounds). I do not remember ever having any positive relationships with computers before I turned 6 lol. I’m pretty sure I used to think I could live without them. Oh you poor bastard. If you saw me now not only would you not understand a single word I’m saying, you would be incredibly disappointed with how dependent I am on computers. I think once I'm done with that I'll try to fix whatever is going on outside scene, because that's the only scene that causes the game to crash. I'm pretty sure it's because there's too many objects, because when I turned off the animations and the visibility it still took forever to load (like, nearly 2 seconds. The scene takes 4 seconds to load, and normally a scene would take me less than a second to load). soooo, uh yeah, I'm trying to find an occlusion culling equivalent to solve this because that's a 3d game thing, and this is a 2d game lol. I'm thinking of turning off visibility for when they're outside the viewing frustrum (player's line of sight, or more like rectangle) because it cuts down half the time for when the scene loads. If nothing works I guess it's just deleting and re-adding the child back into the scene every time the camera is on them... sigh. If it ticks me off too much I'll probably return to doing sprites because there's still a lot to do lol.

Well.... I so far got no other ideas for references in this game, so I guess I'll put in the inspiration of the outro (which is the Portal outro)

(not my video)

I know, I know. Cheesy. BUT instead of it being in the antagonist's view, it's the protagonist's view instead. I tried singing for the song, but every time I do I make Jojo Siwa sound like a professional vocalist (I don't even know why she still sings. Didn't she bust one of her vocal chords already? Or is that a rumor? Either way that's already gotta be a sign that you probably shouldn't continue on the route you're on.) I literally had 5 attempts on my computer and they all sound horrible. I'm not going to put them on the internet for my sake and your sake too. So yeah, no vocals. But the lyrics will still be there. They won't have the typing effect though.

I once had a strange dream that I was looking through the itch.io comments and someone kept spamming about how they headcannoned Xandra to be a trans man and were like honestly I don't know how my brain combined those several factors together but I find that funny.

yes its the caseoh meme. no i will not apologize

[uh-oh-its-bird]

Ok so I'm like. Actually writing this now. Will hopefully put up chapter 1 within the next week. Have some additional points for my plan for the fic;

1) Tobirama is Kakashi's biological great-uncle. Sakumo's mother was the sister of Tobirama's mother, and there's definatley a family resemblance if you know what to look for.

I want at LEAST 1 joke about Kakashi "hiding some matching stripes under that mask of yours" once someone points out the resemblance. It'd be funny and Kakashi could have a moment of actually considering drawing his own red stripes on to match Tobirama before getting embaressed about it

2) I want Kakashi to find Tobirama's old pelt and curl up in it to sleep with late at night, it'll be cute.

Hatake's are supposed to be buried with their pelts but Tobirama's pelt belonged to his mother, who passed it on to him instead of being buried with it. So keeping with that tradition, Tobirama wanted to pass it along to the closest he had to a son, Kagami.

But wanting to be sure Kagami recieved both it and an explanation of what it really meant, Tobirama arranged for it to first go to his aunt. She was supposed to then hand it off to Kagami along with that explanation about what it meant from a clan perspective and how Tobirama bestowing it to him could count as an adoption if he chose to accept it as such. But she ended up dying not too long after Tobirama, and the pelt was lost — forgotten in a locked trunk somewhere in her home, along with a letter addressed to Kagami.

Till Kakashi finds it and resolves to bring it to whatever remains of its owner.

If Shisui were older and in this fic I'd give it to him but he AINT, so. Kakashi will probably end up keeping the pelt and that letter and offer of adoption will probably end up being a massive political piece for the Uchiha

3) Danzo, exasperated by his failure to get Orochimaru to commit to the true mad scientist lifestyle, manages to pressure him into accepting just one single test subject.

Enter 4 year old, suspected senju bastard Tenzo. He just kind of gets shoved into Orochimaru's arms, with Orochimaru being told to at least try to figure out the mokuton thing with him.

But again, Orochimaru is very distracted by Kakashi and all this very old, interesting research he's digging through, so yeah, cool idea Danzo, but he has multiple things going for him right now. So no spooky torture lab for Tenzo.

Instead, Tenzo kind of just gets carted around by Orochimaru and Kakashi both like he's a little purse dog.

And instead of purely trying to copy paste Hashirama's dna into Tenzo to give him mokuton, there's now some fun funky seal fuckery involved in helping recreate it from scratch.

Maybe something to do with the Hatake's white chakra can help give Orochimaru the inspiration he needs? Idk but he's still doing some unethical mad science for sure, there's just no test tube babies and torture labs involved.

When Tenzo does finally develop mokuton, the village (read; Danzo and Sarutobi, also just clan politics in general) tries to claim him as clanless and shove him somewhere to make it easier to control him and keep him a secret. But Kakashi uses the Senju -> Hatake pipeline to forcibly claim him as one of his own clan.

He later apologizes for this to Tenzo, who only tackles him with a hug and says "don't apologize for stupid things" (they are a family now)

Orochimaru makes a dry joke about almost being jealous and Kakashi offers to adopt him into the clan too. Orochimaru makes very intense eye contact with him for way too long, before scoffing and looking away as he says something about being the last of his own clan and refusing to abandon that (he's tempted tho)

4) Orochimaru and Tenzo both infect Kakashi with The Most Unsettling Stare Known To Man(tm)

He's learned a brand new intimidation tactic and it's made even spookier because he's like 6! He has that spooky baby stare from all the horror movies! It's great! It can make anyone uncomfortable!

5) Kakashi lives in his clan compound, but physically can not bring himself to enter his own house. There are 4 other homes on hatake land tho, each belonging to some old Hatake who's now long dead, and he takes up residence in one of them.

To those of you who've read my fic, 'one step three steps' I'm putting him in Ichigo's house because it's the only one I've thought about for more than 2 minutes, so it's all primed and ready to go in my brain

6) Minato is like 18/19 in this btw and he's SO stressed. Team 7 has been together for like a month or two so far, and I'm putting Kakashi at 6, Rin at 11, and Obito at 12

7) I don't know where he is but Genma is around. I want to give him a role somewhere because I love him dearly and he's one of my favorite people to just make a random bystander. Grown up him is my default for "guy who knows all the gossip" I think he deserves to get an early start.

Anyone who wants to be notified when I post chapter 1, just say so and I'll @ you when it goes up. No promises on how soon that is tho

Fuck ok, gather 'round it's time for another fic idea spinning off of a crumb from my last post ab time traveling team Ro into founders era:

Summary:

Fact 1; Kakashi is now 3 weeks the last living Hatake.

Fact 2; Tobirama Senju, according to dusty old scrolls Kakashi finds in his father's study, was apparently half Hatake himself.

Lonley and hurting, Kakashi grabs on to this fact with both hands and squeezes it so tight to his aching heart that his hands bleed.

Or, still processing his father's suicide, Konoha's favorite baby genius finds out he's distantly related to history's favorite baby genius and immediatly starts projecting to cope.

Digging through old journals, history books, Kakashi begins to try his own hand at the man's favorite past time; creating jutsu's. It's the both the hardest thing he's ever done and the most satisfying to date.

Ft.

1) Weirdly chill scene with Danzo (fuck that guy but hear me out) where he kinda looks at Kakashi and sees the hint of the shadow of the man who taught him. Not quite there yet, not fully, but crumbs of it. Enough to make him nostalgic, and enough to hand over an old journal that used to belong to Tobirama.

A calculated risk, he tells himself.

An unspoken challenge, both Danzo and Kakashi understand.

He wants to see how far Kakashi can go, finds himself almost eager to see how close he can come to the shadow of the man he seems so determined to chase.

(and if this side project temporarily distracts him for long enough that Orochimaru slips through his fingers, well, it's not like he knows it was this event specifically that caused that plan to fall through)

2) The fact that, both due to time and the Hatake clan's less than stellar reputation during the warring states era, Tobirama's Hatake ancestry got buried. Kakashi finding him on a dusty old family tree has ✨️political implications✨️ for Kakashi specifically. Ones he isn't all too interested in — unless it means he might be able to access things he otherwise wouldn't've.

Also just general fun surprised Pikachu faces from some people as an added bonus.

3) Kakashi becoming even more terrifying than he rightfully should be at that age !! Danzo pretty much handed him a missile and went "lmao good luck" with that journal! He should not have that! He's learning things! He is experimenting! Someone take the missile away from the baby before he learns how to make his own— oh fuck it's too late hes somehow made a nuke instead

4) Orochimaru poking Kakashi with a stick and vice versa. They are making baby genius <--> baby genius eye contact it's mildly concerning, Minato is concerned. Obito is jealous, he wishes the Snake Sannin would poke HIM with a stick

5) Kakashi bites someone. That's it that's the bullet point I just think he should get to bite someone is all.

And more !!! Im ngl I think I like Tobirama just existing in the fic as as an ever present shadow, super influential in just every single chapter but never actually present. But I won't lie if I'm giggling over the thought of Kakashi finding Edo Tensei and going ".... ok but what better way to figure out this new jutsu / seal than to ask the source directly."

Orochimaru would so help he's having too much fun with this to bother experimenting on children for Danzo. Don't talk to him rn he's having fun with corpses!! No not the corpses you asked him to have fun with, the other ones!

[charlotte-bopp]

Eurovision thoughts as of March 2022

Some little thought on the songs from eurovision 2022 now we have all 40 songs.

(((( These are just initial thoughts and notes for me to share my thoughts as I listen and see how my thoughts change ))))

Albania- nothing too special but its fine

Armenia- folky ----

Australia- pretty good

Austria- good dance tune halo

Azerbaijan- bit dull but could grow on me

Belgium- (miss you) much enjoy

Bulgaria- no, old school, feels like it should go heavier

Croatia- (runaway) she's pretty good

Cyprus- little forgettable at the moment

Czech Republic- good

Denmark- ok I feel like its something I'd listen to but their voices might need to be a little stronger live as they sound a little drowned by the instruments

Estonia- cowboys?

Finland- very Finland to go rock. They seem to have a big fan base so they will do well

France- I don't think France want to win this year.

Georgia- not sure yet

germany- love it, catchy

greece- fine

Iceland- folky its ok

Ireland- (that's rich) excellent

Israel- (I'm) alright

Italy- are they playing to win again? Maybe!

Latvia- (eat your salad) funny but unpredictable

Lithuania- pretty good, reminds me of France last year

Malta- inspirational, catchy

Moldova- random but not good, funny

Montenegro- bit boring but not too bad

Netherlands- good but not sure yet

North Macedonia - she seems good

Norway- yes funny but good

Poland- maybe

Portugal- yes (I like it) soothing

Romania- probably not

San marino- trying to be maneskin

Serbia- maybe

Slovenia- funky, cute but maybe a bit boring

Spain- camila cabello?

Sweden- will defo qualify as Sweden. Hopefully they do something good with staging

Switzerland- sounds like something I'd listen to. A bit like a John lewis Christmas advert song

Ukraine- very random. Will probably get sympathy votes

Uk- best song we've had in ages and its so catchy. Hopefully he performs well on the night

Feel like a lot of the songs sound pretty radioy this year.

[frogmentarii]

QUESTIONS FOR OC CREATORS

Haaaa ok so I am doing this cause i saw @fallout-lou-begas steal it from @tarberrymentats and they both looked like they were havin hella fun so i am commandeering this for my own purposes. So lucky for yall its Emi time (art by the dearest @yesjejunus because yall need to see more of her work)

A) Why are you excited about this character?

Because she's an older woman (57) that breaks a lot of moulds and I love to see it. Aside from just enjoying older characters, Emi isn't a sweet old lady and she isn't here to try and mother anyone. Her drives are entirely her own and while she prioratizes herself and her sister before anyone else, its not always due to complete selfishness and just due to growing up in the wastes (I try to keep her character true to a fend for yourself setting as possible). I think Ill go into detail in another question with this, but I went through a lot of concepts and personalities for Emi before settling on someone who was seasoned and very much a product of the wastes. I think after seeing a lot of other couriers I finally figured out what I wanted to do differently, and that sort of helped guide her to become what she is today.

B) What inspired you to create them?

I think my last line there sort of short answers this. I wanted someone different from the other couriers I saw, and wanted to make one that was distinct or even juxtaposed against some tropes. She's a woman in her late 50s that doesnt try and play mom/granny to the companions, she very much has no stake in what happens to the Mojave, she doesnt care about Benny or that he shot her in the head (such is life in the Mojave, but she did have a job to complete so ripperoni him), and a lot of her motivations are selfish or exist to benefit her sister. She doesnt act 'old' in the fact that she isn't a wise caring soul or a grumpy old man, but rather her age is shown through her experience, and this also shapes her personality. She's never had to formally 'grow up' so she can come off as immature and irritating for her own entertainment, but she doesn't have youthful ignorance for how the world works. She knows how to be responsible but she doesnt have to act like it outwardly, even with her Tragic Caregiver Backstory.

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

To a large degree in the beginning, yes, and to specific degrees now, also yes. Writing in general isnt my strong point though I did know what I wanted for her. The main image is there but the details are funky, and Ive been slowly hammering those out as I work along with her and Camila's stories. There's been some huge changes along the way that help push both of them towards an ending I like and that fits them, and even if it takes forever and I never actually write a fic, I'll be happy when she finally feels completed in New Vegas.

Aside from that, she kind of fits in anywhere in regards to AUs. My friend @yesjejunus and I have probably like 40000 fucking aus for our OCs and all of them feel just as organic and their canon stories.

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

So I know I have an 'original concept Emilia' art on here where she looked like Laura Croft and had aviators but that wasnt even her first concept. I had originally wanted to make a petite southern belle type from Louisiana who used a shot gun and had a mean streak, but as I kept playing with concepts Emi really started to lean other places. Another huge change was her personality. Even when her concept got settled as a sniper from Mexico, she was suppose to be an early 30s caravan guard who was way too sure of herself. While there are reminents of that concept still in her, she has a lot more experience in the wastes and in think-on-your-feet situations to back up her attitude. Another thing she required was dropping her "take me seriously" personality with more goofy "i do what i want cause why not" traits.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Emi can get along with anyone at a surface level, for a small while, if it will benefit her or she wants to pass time. She really doesn't have interest in folks who arent interesting or beneficial in some way. Since I don't really offer her much, and am a bit of a wet bag, she might yank my chain for her own funsies or she'd have no interest.

And while I did indeed give Emi my go with the flow attitude, I think I wouldn't be able to keep up with her. Emi is very fast paced and doesnt necessarily have regard for those she decides to pick up as drinking buddies for the night. Def dont trust her with my life, and knowing the shit she gets into I'd def want to steer clear of it....like a trainwreck its much better to watch her from a safe distance, lol.

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

A lot of affection from a meta standpoint? I've worked with Emi and Cam a lot since creating them, and they've def come a long way since their original concepts. I wouldn't say their story is quite where I want it yet, but I am quite happy with it overall.

That, and Ive met so many awesome writers along the way with Emi. Not all of my friends have posted fic but the amount of world building and having our characters interact and talking OCs ive done with them has placed both Emi and their OCs in a special place for me. Sure her having her own story is fun but I much more prefer the bonds Ive created with people over OCs and I think thats a bit more of a cherished component to character creation for me.

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

Literally? That she likes to be irritating if she feels she can get away with it (or even if she cant). Actually? That she has a very "I shelter you and feed you therefore I make the rules, period." stance on how she takes care of her charge. She lets a lot of shit slide with Camila but things get very Rapunzel-esque at times.

H) What trait do you admire most?

How sure of herself she is. Even if its to a fault, she trusts herself and her judgements. That sort of confidence is something I strive to have haha.

To a lesser degree, and more of a meta point I wanted to make with her, just...her appearance I suppose? To me she's attractive, but she also has a lot of traits that aren't conventionally attractive and that's played a lot into how Ive wanted her to be. Again she's 57 years old. She has age to her body, her skin wrinkles and droops, her tits sag, she has the body of someone who uses chems, and yet despite her age and breaking of beauty standards ive made it a point to show that she is desired or thought of as attractive in non fetish specific circumstances. She herself, while aro, also still has an active sex drive and I really wanted this to be a backseat part of her character, as I feel like fandom in general shafts older women in this department (this also goes for a lot of her non 'old lady' traits I give her too). She still has sexual needs and is still very much sexually active, and she is still found to be a regular sort of attractive and is desired by those she gets involved with.

J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

Yes? Ish, to a degree. I didnt have to but I wanted to. I also did a lot of headcanoning with post Mexico for her early life which, afaik is free real estate for lore/nothing super detailed has been given in canon.

Given that she and Camila both shape their stories as individuals, I did have to split up some canon elements to follow two seperate characters, but other than that I really just had to make sure Emilia's story wasnt "boring" in the fact that she again, has no real stake in what happens to Vegas/the Mojave.

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

Cackles in 'which au will I obsess with today'

For the most part yes, however I love placing her in new things or different stories. She may be 'my courier' but really shes just the frog granny that goes into whatever au I am feeling at the time.

[sloppy-butcher]

Angel of Music

The Wraith (Philip Ojomo) x Survivor!Reader 

ok so

I’m probably very late to this, like 3 years late, but whatever just hear me out

My smooth brain has been going crazy lately for Phantom of the Opera and i just realized how similar Wraith’s “Angel of Music” cosmetic is to the drama (i mean, i known it is inspired by it but like). 

so now with this glorious revelation, me and the monkeys in my head have come up with the brilliant idea to write a Phantom of the Opera inspired Wraith fic. gods speed you funky lil dudes. 

note;; this is going to be very OOC for him. I’m am going to model wraith to be more like the phantom he is dressed as, thus expect a more devilish, seductive creature rather than the tree-man we already know. also, he can talk now. maybe sing

literally no one asked for this

word count: 4110

TW: Death and blood. Stalking and obsession. Musicals 

This place is an undeniable and indisputable nightmare. An eternal night that twists and corrupts all with shadows and despair. From the repetitive game of cat and mouse that almost always ended in death to the ever-present feeling of eternal damnation, there is absolutely nothing inherently good about the Fog. There wasn’t even light. As if stuck in the haze of an ecstasy-trip, time bleeds into itself seeming to stretch on forever yet also never move an inch. A true paradox.

And to make matters somehow even worse, you had started to hear voices in your head.

It first spoke to you on one of your regular trips into the woods. Scavenging for tools and items that could be used in trials, you hummed to yourself. Oblivious to the world around you, lost to the music playing in your head. It was easier to forget the horrors of the night and give in to the melody of some old song than to ponder on dangers yet to come. You found personal peace in singing, drowning out all your earthly worries by the power of your own imagination. The fog swirled and swelled with the rise and fall of your song and out in the darkness the voice made its presence known. ‘Sing louder.’ You obliged willingly.

Initially, you had chalked it up to your heightened sense of purpose and inner monologue being superimposed so as to form its own being. You would command yourself in third person, detaching and driving your body as your thoughts spoke. Intuition personified. This theory made sense; endless panic often causes those to develop the most peculiar of coping mechanisms. In passing conversations with the other trapped souls you realized that they too had their quirks; one had a rubber band that he snapped on his wrist whenever scared, another rubbed dirty into her palms to stop them from sweating and so on. Unfortunately, you had developed the most bizarre habit out of everyone else. You only started to question the voice’s true intention when its orders became more sinister.

‘Leave him.’ It spoke over your shoulder referring to your teammate dying on hook, an open exit gate before you. ‘Run away.’ It commanded to your half-way through healing another when you spotted the killer fast approaching. All these new and selfish instructions, although ensuring your survival, left you feeling hollow inside. You escaped but at what cost? The lives of your friends. If it really was your true self talking to you then, by default, did that mean you were as evil as the voice was? No! You plead. You were a good person. By God you were human, and the weight of all the death and suffering inflicted by your obedience to the voice began to crush your conscience. You couldn’t even look the others in the eyes anymore.

You couldn’t just ignore the voice either. When it spoke there seemed to be an almost physical force behind it, driving it and giving it momentum. Sometimes it even felt as if someone was standing right behind you reaching out and instructing you with their hand as they whispered in your ear. There was also the fact that you drew strange comfort from the voice. In this desert place, so drained of softness and angry with hate, you depended on what little gentleness the voice offered you.  

It even occurred to you that maybe, the voice wasn’t even yours - as in it belonged to someone else entirely. An unknown watcher, a ghost or phantom, who somehow had a deep connection to you, a one-way mode of communication. A large part of you wanted desperately to believe that who were just overreacting and that it was all just in your head. Regardless, you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

For what felt like days now the voice had been uncharacteristically silent. You noticed it in your first ever trial with the killer that could go invisible with the toll of his bell. There was no guidance, no consoling vector to take your hand and help you through your problems. You had been left alone like a new-born chick, blindly searching for the love and warmth of a guardian. Feeling completely lost, the panic that sat on your chest was overwhelming in that trial. But oddly enough, no matter what you did wrong, how many times you blew up a generator or accidentally revealed your position, the killer never disturbed you. You didn’t even see him until the end where, standing in the exit gate looking in on the realm, you spotted the figure. Bright eyes gleamed back, a bloody weapon in his hands. He allowed you a moment longer to gawk at him before ringing his bell and disappearing into the night.

Even after escaping the voice didn’t return. Your ears yearned for the sound of it, hungry for its filling noise. You sat alone at the campfire, eyes staring unblinking into the mesmerizing flames. It was so lonely, the panic and unrest mixing into a dangerous concoction in your head. There was nothing good anymore. Why do you keep on trying? Perhaps it would be better if you just gave in already. You almost jumped out of your skin when, as if manifested by your desperate cry, the voice called.

‘Come.’ It sounded from the treeline, darkness bending and beckoning you into it. It didn’t feel real. Perhaps you were imagining it. ‘Come,’ It said again sensing your hesitation. You looked around at the other survivors none of which appeared to notice the disturbance. You faced the forest again, it opened to you like the mouth of a great fish. Your feet itched to run to it. There was a powerful pull and before long you followed it.

The woods were freezing, broken branches grabbing out as you passed them. Through all these adversaries, pushing past doubts and warranted skepticism, you kept your eyes focused ahead. Even with all the warning flags the voice had given you, the pure desperation you had to find anything even remotely kind lit the fire of will under your feet. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? You were dead either way. The trees swayed and whined as a tired wind blew through their crumbling leaves, oddly not even making a noise. As the voice continued to call, luring you away from the safety of other people and fire, you spotted something ahead of you. There just through the fog, like a lighthouse over a raging sea, was a light. It bobbed and sway and wondered away from you through the trees. It was hypnotizing to watch the light flicker deeper into the trees, your feet not needing motivation to follow.

The light and voice mingled in your head, overwhelming every sense until it felt like you were walking through a dream. Your pace was sluggish and sloppy, you couldn’t feel the ground anymore. Just as it seemed you’d never catch up to the light, it suddenly stopped, blinked a few times then popped out of existence. You went to its last location, looking around for any possible signs of anything to help you but instead found yourself completely surrounded by an all impressive mist. It danced through the trees creating unbreakable walls of wood and water. It felt wrong to be here, your head spin around for an exit which came to you in the form of an out-of-place stone archway.

The bright yellow of the stone contrasted brilliantly against the somber atmosphere it lived in. Your mind wasn’t your own as you unknowingly went to it. Beyond the mouth of madness lay a beast in wait, purring as he felt your impending arrival. Eagerness overtook him and slowly the wooden door creaked open to welcome you inside. The tunnel that lay behind was one lit by old candles tinting the world with a much-appreciated golden light. It stretched on for miles, leading down into the earth where, at the bottom drifting up to you like a breeze in a cave, the voice beckoned.

‘Come.’ You stepped inside. ‘Come to me.’ If, by some strange miracle, you could have stopped yourself for a brief moment from descending the tunnel, you might have noticed the voice’s odd word choice. You might have even noticed the person on the other end licking his lips and smiling. Walking as if through honey, you unhurriedly made your way to the yearning voice. Before long the warm light that had bathed you drew back its loving embrace and faded back to absolute darkness.

At the edge of the last candles reach was a room - so large and empty of light that it appeared to have no roof, no walls, no end. You couldn’t help but feel like you had walked into the lair, the most secret and quiet place, of a monster. You couldn't shake the feeling that you had passed the point of no return. The artificial night swallowed you whole; your eyes strained in the pitch black, your ears burning from the total silence save for your own beating heart. The shadows inspected you, looking you up and down while you were none the wiser. His eyes also ate you up, so pleased to have you alone that he let the moment slip into an uncomfortable length.

You wanted to speak, make your claim against whatever had brought you here. You could sense something out there just outside of your already limited view. But the silence held you tight in its suffocating grasp. You dared not even breath. You had to wait for him to make the first move.

“Bravo.” The voice called from somewhere behind you, startling you to the point of drawing a gasp. “Bravo! Bravissimo!” Someone started to clap. You could hear him stepping around you, his voice echoing endlessly around the room, impossibly loud and booming. Although there was something deeply unsettling about the voice, the only thing you could take from it was odd comfort. It was real. A person. A guardian Angel! You spun around on your heels desperate to see the source of your guidance however he managed to remain hidden in shadow. You swear you could hear him grin at your confusion.

“You listen well, my dear.” There was no denying it, it was the voice. Although only now, when it spoke so openly, did you notice that it was inherently male. So relieved with the news that you weren’t going completely mad with disembodied voices, you glazed over the other implications this reveal came with. If it wasn’t yourself than just who have you been talking to all this time? And, the more pressing matter, just who were you stuck with in the room.

The stranger claps again and moves around in the black, shuffling from one side of the room to the other and at times seeming to even be above you, looking down. “I am beyond impressed my dear.” The stranger smiled, unbeknownst to you getting closer with very advance. “Do you know where you are?” No reply. Honestly you had no clue. You had never been in this place before - it felt so detached, so different when compared to all the other realms you had grown accustomed to in the Fog.

“Hell.” The voice answered, purring like a cat with a trapped mouse, teasing it - relishing off its fear. “The deepest pit. And, what’s more, you came here all on your own free-will.” He moved again not content to stay in one spot for too long, trying to view you from every possible angle before he made his last move.

“Won’t you sing for me. My Angel of music. You know the one I mean.” His words hit you like a ton of bricks. A song? As you wracked your brain for whatever he could be referring to, a faint idea began to materialize right in the tip of your tongue. Words of a melody that you swear you had never heard before but still feel familiar with in your heart. The voice, it sang to you. How could you forget!  

“Every night I was there. Whispering my song to you in hopes that one day, you could join in with me.” That was true. Each time you dared to drift off to sleep, the voice would appear. He sang to you, gently and softly, talking into your ear to lull you safely away - only to wake hours later with no memory of the night before. Perhaps that is why you were always so attached to the voice, why its absence impacted you so deeply. There was a build of pressure behind you and suddenly he was there. The stranger towered over you without even looking, his chest pressed tight to your back. Exploring hands went down your arms and slowly brought them up like the two of you were about to start a dance. His head hung low to your ear, his breathing touching your exposed neck. He sucked in and exhaled meaningfully, taking in your smell and touch and your reaction to his closeness.

“Sing.” God, his voice was so smooth, demanding and rich. A sonorous tone that had never been shown to you before this. It shocked you to your core. He sighed again, one hand moving to caress your neck with the other holding your own hand. “Sing my Angel.” Up till now you were passive, sitting ideally in a dream-state as you let the stranger do as he wished. But now you wanted answers.

“Let me see you.” No answer came from the man be it verbal or physical. He remained completely unphased and unchanging.

“Sing.” He commanded again, no anger or annoyance in his tone only patience and hunger. He yearned for you to sing with him, to join in with his symphony. For too long has he gone silent, his soul dying along with his music. The bells no longer tolling and his music fading out like a lit match in the rain. When he found you, fallen like an angel right out of Heaven, humming alone to yourself, he felt the fire of passion ignite within him. You were perfect to him and now, you couldn’t resist him. You were defenseless, night having accustomed you to its unfurling beauty to the point that you were addicted to it – needed it, just as he did. There was no way either of you could go back now. You breathed into him, your nose filling with the smell of pine and smoke, and hesitantly after closing your eyes, you began to sing the words now burning hot in your head.

“Say you’ll share with me,” It wasn’t really singing, rather just breathless talking – a whisper that only the keenest of ears could hear. Regardless of what you sounded like; the stranger cherished every word that left your mouth. He started to shake, his hands holding on to you for support.

“One love, one lifetime.” He joined you now, singing as you did in a volume that only you could truly appreciate. His raspy, low-pitched voice mingling wonderfully with yours, sounding almost desperate to get the words out. Lips grazed your ear sending shivers down your spine.

“Say the word,” His hands tightened their grip as if to empathize his lyrics. “And I will follow you.”

“Say you love me.” Your combined voices bounced around the darkness stirring whatever creatures lay in hiding, your harmony compelling and immensely sorrowful. While a part of you faded into the song’s words, swaying and melting with the stranger content for once, something crawled into your head. The song was ending, and while you wished to stay forever in this blissful embrace, you demanded to know the face behind the voice. Your moment was coming.

“That’s all I ask of -” Slipping out his grasp at the moments climax, you spin around to finally lay your eyes on the stranger. He froze under your gaze, surprised by your sudden action. Looking up at an incredibly tall man, you felt your knees threaten to give out. Staring back were the glowing eyes of a killer, the very one that had, not long ago, tormented your friends. You couldn’t help but gasp and step away from him, breaking his hold on you. You inspected him as best you could in your lack of light, squinting your eyes as hard as you could but nothing in the darkness made itself known to you save for his unmistakable eyes. The stranger noticed your efforts and, fuming at your defiance to play along with him, raised a hand.

“You wish to disobey me? Fine!” The ground shook under foot, his shouting voice ricocheting off the rooms stone walls and sending the world into disarray. “Look at me Angel! In all my glory!” He snapped his fingers.

Suddenly your senses were overwhelmed by blinding white light. You flinched, shutting your eyes to the dramatic change in the room. When next you opened then you found the room to be hazed in familiar yellow candlelight. As if by magic, all candles had all be simultaneously lit. Your attention darted around like a trapped bird before resting on the man standing in front of you, his arms open and expression unreadable. Bathed in new light you could see him in immaculate detail.

Yes, it was the invisible killer, no doubt about it. But something was off about him. He looked different somehow; maybe it was his prim suit, navy fabric decorated with golden lace that fit his slender body snugly giving him a sense of proper and divinity. Behind him hung an extraordinary cape that fluttered in a non-existent breeze. On his face sat a white mask, crooked and dirtied from years of neglect which, in all honesty, covered little to none of his truly disfigured and burnt flesh.

Unparalleled fear began to rise in your chest. He was so tall, powerful and strange that it terrified you to be standing next to him. You stepped backwards, edging closer to the exit. The stranger’s eyes flickered. How could you fear him? He had never hurt you, Angel. All he has ever wanted was to be by your side, to never be lonely in the dark again. He has given you no reason to distrust him, he has never shown you his monstrous side. Yet still you shrunk away from his touch, choosing rather silent suffering than a lifetime of music with him. He felt something break inside him.

You saw his hand twitch, his off-center head bobbing as his labored breathing intensified. He took a small step forward and you replied by taking a large one back. He halted and so did you. Next to the broken thing that rattled around in his bones, he heard something else. A beating heart, weak and faint but somehow still alive. It moved and leaped, reaching out for you to take it and hold. Just standing in your company he heard music start to swell in his ears. You had listened to him once before, maybe he could get you to again.

The stranger's head dropped; through the lumpy cape you saw his shoulders deflate. What was he doing? Playing possum so as to catch you off guard? Whatever it was, you didn’t let the tension ease out your legs. You waited for his next move, ready to run if he tried anything suspicious. You didn't expect the sound of his voice to suddenly start singing again.

“Say you’ll share with me,” He sang his solo, his voice that of an airy murmur as if afraid to sing alone. Every word he sang clung to your ears, kissing your heart and mind with a complex sorrow. Your guard started to halter.

“One love. One lifetime.” He paused, swallowing the lump building in his throat warning to overflow and render him speechless.

“Lead me,” He raised a cautious eye to find you still waiting, offering him the chance to try coax you closer. A fist clutched his chest in an attempt to sooth his aching heart. “Save me from my solitude.” He was certain he was crying but he couldn’t feel the tears; you had his undivided attention.

“Say you want me here...” He faltered here, hand itching to reach out and grab you. “Beside you.”  The stranger could barely form audible words anymore, so slurred and choked up that you unknowingly leaned forward to try hear him better. 

“Anywhere you go,” He tried again, begging you to close the distance and join him. It was heartbreaking, this phantom, this person and the way he sang to you, each syllable dripping with an ocean of unimaginable pain and beastly hopelessness. It was infectious really; you could feel his sadness take over your heart shaking it in an iron grasp. Miserable eyes glared you down as you took the smallest step forward. “Let me go too.”

He didn’t continue - he couldn’t. The horrors of the whispering darkness and this god-awful place left him near-drained. Everything pushed down on him, suffocating him until he thought he was going to pass out. He could only keep his eyes on you. Blurry from tears he held onto your figure like your were a buoy in a raging sea, his only safety, his air. The stranger heaved from trying to maintain his composure. Finally the curtain fell and you gave in. 

Your foot falls were the only sounds that broke the silence in the room. You approached him with little to no conflict in your mind. Yes - he was scary. Yes - he was a monster. But the way he looked at you now, the way he sang and spoke; no killer would beg to be loved the way he did. It was like he was afraid of the dark, of being alone, of being condemned to an existence of pitiful silence. You craned your neck to look up at him, sucking back the wreckage still wavering just outside his control. 

“Pitiful creature of darkness,” The words tumbled out of your mouth, through teeth unfazed by their possible repercussion. You were speaking from your heart. A small hand connects with his unmasked cheek taking in the feeling of old, burnt skin and years of mud. He leans into your warm embracing having forgotten what it was like. “You are not alone.” 

Even on tip-toes you still were short of his lips. It was only when he gave in and leaned down that you were able to kiss him. Eyes closed, shoulders tensing, you melted into the kiss. His lips were rough, chapped, but gentle. He didn’t give anymore pressure until you asked for him, dragging you tongue along his bottom lip asking for entrance. He opened to you gratefully. Inside his mouth housed monstrous sharp teeth and an excited tongue and moved inside your mouth, tasting ever inch of you. He was greedy, demanding everything of yours. When you had nothing more to give, he relented and let you go.

You sank back on your heels gasping for breath. You noticed he was smiling, an odd sight of such a distorted and sad face. 

“My Angel. My Muse.” You felt him move on top of you, a hand sneaking behind your back making to bend over so as not be pressed uncomfortably against his chest. “I have many names of which to call you. I am eager to use them all.” He laughed, the sound rattling your whole body with its bass leaving you quivering. “But you, can call me Philip.” He tilted his head in a mock bow, his free hand grabbing the edge of his cape and fanning it out in respect. You offered you own  meek nod. His smile only widened at your compliance. 

“Come now,” Philip said standing up to his full height, his hand still securing your back. “Let me take you away. Away from all this numb light and into the darkness where no one will find us.” He raised his arm and cape and quickly brought it down around you, sweeping it around the both of your until he had you cocooned. 

The world fell into black again and all you could sense was him; his breathing, his reinforced arms cradling you. You could also hear a faint thumping when you put your ear to his chest - his heart. Once diseased and weak now pumped with vigor and delight. He had you in his grasp and he was never letting you go. You were his everything; his Angel of music.

[babyspiderling]

The Moonwalker and the Time-Traveler Prologue

California, 2020

 “Ms. L/N, I suggest you wake up for my class if you want to pass this course.” I blink up at my professor, it seems that I fell asleep during history class again. “I’m sorry Professor Berkley, I was up all last night with my roommate tinkering all night.” At that he softens, a grandfatherly look in his eye. “Oh Y/N, I understand, but if you truly want to be a history major, you have to stay awake! I will not simply give you a free pass while trying to adjust, just please, try to stay awake in my class.” Standing, I nod. “Yes sir. I’ll do my best.” After this, I am dismissed and head back to my dorm room to hopefully catch a nap. 

Kicking the door shut, I move to collapse onto my bed, but am blocked by whatever my engineering major roommate has built in the dorm for his latest project. “Seriously dude? Don’t you have a lab for this kind of stuff?” I kick off my shoes and do my best to move around it, finally, truly collapsing onto my bed. I fall asleep quickly, hopefully revisiting the dream I had during class. 

Lord knows how much later, I wake up to my roommate continuing to tinker on his project. Grumbling under my pillow, “Danny, don’t you have a lab for this shit? Why do you have to do it here, I’m sleeping in classes because of this!” He sheepishly lifts his head up to respond. “Uh, well, I uh… It’satimemachine.” Snapping my head up, I question “It’s a what?” Once again he looks shy and guilty. “It’s a, uh, Time Machine. Or at least that’s what I’m wanting it to be. I’m still working on it.” Well, I’m definitely awake now. “So, like, what’s the problem?” Finally putting down his tools, Danny turns to me, “It should work. I ran the simulations and used the one that worked. It’s just… not connecting I guess.” Glancing at the clock, it’s getting late. “Look Danny, I’m going to clean up some of my stuff. Go get some food. I know you haven’t eaten yet.” With a defeated sigh, Danny agrees and leaves the room. I slip into a pair of shorts and an old David Bowie tour shirt I had found at a thrift store. Picking up things here and there, folding abandoned pieces of laundry, I hum and bop around the room, dancing along to “Working Day and Night”, practicing turns and isolations to the beat. Taking a deep breath I prep and spin as fast and as long as I can, but my foot slips out from under me. I tumble to the floor, tripping over some cord. Oh well, it’s probably Danny's “mood lighting”, I plug it in and decide to check out the “Time Machine”. “Ground Control to Major Tom! Prepare for lift-off!” I press random buttons, dicking around and typing 1984, then some other buttons. “Huh, sucks it really doesn’t work. It’d be cool if you really could time travel.” Once again I trip over Danny’s junk on the floor of the project and slam into one last button I had yet to press. On the way down I hit my head, and the world went black as a whirring sound filled my ears. 

Waking up, I find myself in a room about the size of mine, decorated much like my side of the dorm, with a funky retro feeling to it. “Danny, this isn’t funny, I get it, I’m gullible for believing the machine was real. Now how the Hell did you change all this so quick… and get rid of the machine?” I continue searching the room for Danny, and realise that the sun had already risen hours ago. I may have been out for longer than I thought, and come crashing into a body. Awesome! Now I can really teach that boy a lesson for pulling that. “Hey, what are you doing in my dorm? Nice shirt by the way, I was at the Anaheim show a couple months ago. That’s where you got the shirt, right?” I blink at the guy my age, still processing the amount of denim and hair products he has decided to use for the day. “What? Oh, uh, my shirt. Wait, did you say you saw him in Anaheim a couple months ago? What year are you from?” He knits his brows together. “1984. Are you ok? Did you get a bad hit or something? Do I need to call someone for you?” I space myself from him, the stimulation of this whole situation too much. “No, no I’m ok. What’s today’s date?” His eyes are still filled with concern as he replies with January 26th 1984, and that I’m still at University of Redlands, just 36 years before I attend. “Wait, January 26th, why does that sound so familiar? I hear Beat It blare down the hall and I can practically see the light bulb above my head. “Do you know how to get to the Shrine Auditorium?” 

We zip down the highway on Tyler’s motorcycle, making a trip down to L.A. He had me explain my whole ordeal to him before he just drove me to a random concert venue. It took a bit to convince him, but the second I pulled my smartphone out he was on board. He pulls off to a strip mall and helps me dismount. “Wait, why are we at a mall? I need to get to that venue before security secures it.” He just rolls his eyes. “If you want to get in and stay in without too much attention, you need to look a little bit different. Time to fit in.” He drags me into store after store, and I finally piece together a “Bad” inspired outfit. A black crop top slips off one shoulder, leather pants pull tight around my legs and hips, a blood red leather jacket drapes my shoulders, and matching leather boots clutch my feet. “Tyler, this is too much. I can’t even pay you back.” He rolls his eyes and pays for the clothes, letting me keep my own hoops and rings. “Look, just meeting a time traveler is cool, dressing one is even better. When you get back home and you still want to pay me back, we’ll figure it out. Let’s get you to the moonwalker himself.” 

As we pull into the parking lot for the venue, there isn’t another soul in sight. “Hey, here’s my address, if you ever want to mail me, or just let me know that you’re doing ok.” He hands me a slip of paper, and I hug him tightly. “Thank you Tyler, I am forever in your debt. If you’re anywhere near the university in 2020, let me know.” With that, he rides back home into the sunset, and I sneak into the venue before security shows up. 

It’s a good thing I like the song Billie Jean, because I have heard it about 72 times in the last hour. During sound check alone I almost lost my mind, with just the baseline intro playing for 30 minutes. As I hear the cue from the director that it is time to actually film the commercial. I hear “Take One!” in the distance and I ditch my jacket behind a stack of crates, my phone hidden in the pocket. I find the side entrance of the stage as take 3 is anounced. I crouch down in a runners position at take 5, launching myself at take 6. Michael nears the pyrotechnic and I slam my body into his as it goes off, now missing him by inches. There are screams of terror and shock as we fly through the air, now spun so that I land on my back, Michael on top of me. His brothers quickly help him up and off of me as I am seized by security, doing my best to put as little weight on my now injured ankle as possible. I raise my hands in surrender, trying to think my way out of this. “Look! Look, I can explain all of this, including how I knew that this take wasn’t going to go well. Let me explain and I will never try to contact any of you again!” Everyone around me exchanges glances, deciding whether to trust me or not. Tito steps forward, his eyes full of scrutiny. “Alright girl, explain.” I sigh and grimace in pain. “I can’t do it out here. Too many people. And my evidence of my claims are in my jacket backstage.” He glances back at Michael, nodding in response to his younger brother. I am escorted backstage, am allowed to sit down to relieve my ankle, and I start my story. “I’m from the future, 36 years in the future to be a bit more specific. I’m not crazy.” Michael crouches down in front of me, “If you’re really a time traveler I would love to talk about the future with you!” He’s nudged and given a look from his older brothers, and his smile is dimmed a bit. “But if you’re from the future, wouldn’t you know songs I haven’t released yet?” I nod my head, but I get hit with the issue of Thriller already being released and the “Bad” sessions not yet started for at least another 6 months, if not more. I flip through the collection of Michael songs I know by heart, trying to find one he’s recorded but not yet released. “Oh! I know about “Love never felt so good”! The one you recorded with Paul Anka! I can sing it for you!” I start at the chorus, my brain too frazzled to remember it’s entirety. Everyone else who knows about the song exchanges looks, one brother even shouting questions of how I knew it. “It’s on my phone, and I’m from the future. All your music’s been released. Well, almost all of it. There’s still tracks from your upcoming session that I have yet to find. Here, I can show you.” Lifting myself from my seat, I reach to retrieve my jacket from behind the crates. Everyone watches me with baited breath, wanting to see what the time traveler will pull out next. I pull out my phone and search for the Xscape album. I press play on the original track and Michael's voice rings out from the speaker. I switch it up to “Working Day and Night”, what I was listening to before I got here. 

“Look, I can play you anything you’ve already recorded. I just can’t play you anything you haven’t done yet. Those are the rules.” Michael escorts me back to his dressing room to ask me questions about the future since I am no longer seen as crazy. “Are there flying cars ? What about people living in space? Are there aliens?” I giggle at his excitement. “Well, we do have people living in space, it isn’t commercialized yet, so you and I couldn’t go. We don’t have flying cars, but we do have self driving ones. And there are no known aliens yet. Music is accessible though. If I had any service in 1984, I could play you any song any time from anyone. I could listen to “Wanna be Startin Somethin’” for 3 days straight if I wanted to. All I’d have to do is type it in and press play.” His eyes sparkle in awe of the future. He opens his mouth to ask more questions, but Jermaine and another man enters the room before he can get a word out, “Come on Mike, we need to finish the commercial. This is an EMT we had on site, he’s here to fix her ankle.” As Michael leaves his seat, I grab his hand. “Please, don’t let them turn the pyrotechnics back on. Please.” He nods and pats my hand before leaving the room. The EMT removes my new boots and my ankle swells before my eyes, no longer constrained in the tight leather. We make small talk as he works until the commercial is done recording. 

[tatselk]

Eduardo “Eddy” Heredia

Description/Notes: My entry for the GLovelysQCC Ward University challenge! The challenge is basically to create a student/professor of the arts who began the school year with the cast in SimmerBoi’s incredible VO series “Ward University”. Do watch this series if you haven’t already done so! The storyline is really compelling and I feel totally invested in the characters. In fact, I binge-watched the whole thing over a couple of days and when I was done, I just re-watched the whole thing again. ;)

 My starting point is that I wanted to create a male student majoring in fine arts because (1) a lot of the focus in the show seems to be on the female characters in the cast so I wanted to balance it out with a male character and (2) of all the degrees offered at Ward University, the fine arts one seems to be involved the least with the rest of the cast/storyline (so, again, more representation of it to balance things out).

 To make it more plausible as to why my Sim wasn’t seen on screen with the rest of the cast, even though he supposedly began the year with them, I gave my Sim the Loner trait and a behind-the-scenes job (costume design). So presumably he WAS around at the university, but probably just spent a lot of time being a hermit in his room or something…

 Finally, I kept the background of my Sim abit murky so it is up to you to decide what is up with him. Is he simply a poor hardworking student who got wrongly mixed up in the drama of the Ward-Bailey-Jeong Scandal? Or is there more to him than meets the eye?

  Gallery Link: Eduardo “Eddy” Heredia 

  Pictures:

To escape the harsh realities of growing up in an underprivileged neighbourhood in Del Sol Valley, Eduardo “Eddy” Heredia had always immersed himself in the cinematic world. With his passion for fashion, the Creative Eddy dreamt of making it big in the film industry as a costume designer.

 After graduating from high school, Eddy did odd jobs at Plumbob Pictures whilst taking night classes in art and design. Whilst Eddy was working as a production assistant in one of Judith Ward’s latest films, the temperamental costume designer had abruptly quit right before filming was scheduled to begin and destroyed all the sketches and costumes which have been prepared for the film. Luckily, Eddy had helped to save the day with his spare sketches and savvy sewing skills.

 To everyone’s surprise, Ms Ward had demanded that Eddy be promoted to the role of costume designer for that film. After all, he had never been credited on any film before! To everyone’s even greater surprise, soon after filming ended, Eddy had been admitted to the prestigious Ward University School of Arts’ fine arts major on a full scholarship.

 ********************

 Eddy had a great start to his freshman year at Ward University.

 On the scholastic side of things, Eddy’s Perfectionist trait had him constantly honing his craft, even in much of his spare time. This helped him to breeze through all his tests and assignments.  

   On the social side of things, despite being a Loner, Eddy thought that he had done pretty well with living in the university’s communal environment.  

 For example, he had managed to not get TOO annoyed at his roommate, a creative writing major who always seems to be talking the head off of anyone and everyone in the vicinity.

   Eddy had even been able to steer clear of all the drama with the castings/rehearsals for the school musical whilst designing and creating the costumes for it.

  ********************

 Unfortunately, everything changed when the press found out about the possible link between Judith Ward, Thorne Bailey and Venessa Jeong’s murder (AKA the Ward-Bailey-Jeong Scandal).

 Someone noted that the film which Eddy had worked on as the costume designer was also the first and last film which Judith Ward and Venessa Jeong had appeared in together. Someone else pointed out that the notoriously Mean Snob, Judith Ward, seemed to be suspiciously helpful in helping a nobody like Eddy to advance his career.

 Conspiracies began flying about how Eddy may have been involved in some way or at least knows SOMETHING major about what went down in the Ward-Bailey-Jeong Scandal, such that Judith Ward had to buy his silence with his university admission/scholarship.

 Not only was Eddy stalked by the press whenever he tried to leave campus, they have even taken to emailing him, texting him and calling him to get his comments on the Ward-Bailey-Jeong Scandal.

 How will this affect Eddy’s time at Ward University? Will he able to complete his freshman year in peace? Or will he be sucked into the swirling vortex of scandal and glamour at Ward University?

   Extras:

 A close-up shot of Eddy.

 Eddy has a simple but classic look to reflect how he is slightly older than most of his classmates and a little more sophisticated, having worked in the film industry before starting university.

 Still, I gave him a little edge with his eye make-up and funky glasses. He is an arts student after all!

   Eddy in all his different outfits.

 His clothes have a vaguely vintage-inspired vibe to them. The backstory is that, since Eddy grew up really poor in Del Sol Valley, his main form of entertainment was to watch free screenings of old movies from Del Sol Valley’s Golden Age at the nearby Plumbob Pictures Museum. So Eddy would be heavily influenced in his style by all those old movies, which he has re-watched countless times since he was a kid.

 I also gave Eddy relatively formal/tailored outfits because I see him as being kinda anxious/insecure and using his clothes as his armour against the world.

  Bonus shot of Eddy and his roommate having some of the other students over for a sleepover.

Well, OK, technically, Eddy’s roommate invited everyone over on an impromptu whim and Eddy simply went along with it. But still...

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Don’t you hear my call though you’re many years away - Chapter 2

A/N As usual for me, I don’t care about my word count, but it’s a fairly long chapter. Forgive and grammar or punctuation issues. If you enjoy this, please reblog!

Warnings: Angst and can get dialog heavy.

Summery: You the reader finally gets to travel back in time.

That morning, plans started being made. The first decision was when I should go back, and being that summer was just around the corner, that was the obvious choice. But for how long?

After some discussing, I agreed to a month. It would be hard, seeing as I’d have to figure out how to hide this from my family, which I hated. But the idea of spending a month in 1971 London was too enticing. Especially when it involved seeing Queen.

Within a few days the plan was made. I told my family I’d be staying in the dorms with Sierra for the summer, saying that she got a job and hoped I could too. I’d leave my phone with her so she could post updates to my social media periodically. She’d answer my text and emails, but phone calls would have to be avoided.

Maybe when I got back I could get a job, I had worked through the school year at the college itself, but I still didn’t like lying to my family. All they asked was that I come home for my Dads birthday.

Everything was being set in motion.

The last few weeks of school flew by and crawled at the same time. Between studying for finals and planning my ‘trip’ I didn’t have time for much else, that included not thinking about ex boyfriend.

**

I emerged from my last final of the semester, into the summer sun. May was coming to an end, and in June I’d be leaving.

I turned my face toward the sun, closing my eyes, soaking up the light and heat.

My phone buzzed in my hand, drawing me out of my mindlessness.

Looking down I saw a text from Claire

Let’s go get you some funky threads!

Followed by

Yeah I have no clue about slang in the 70s! It’s time to shop hunny!

Laughing, I started my walk back to my dorm.

**

“Ugh corduroy is disgusting” I moaned as I stepped out of a dressing room.

“It is, but they look good on you” Dustin said from where he was sitting in a weird wicker chair. He had found this vintage clothing shop, and decided it would be the best place to look for my 70s wardrobe.

“The styles then were not made for my body type” I said as I looked at myself in a long mirror.

“You’re beautiful babe!” Claire yelled from the other side of the small store, where she was rifling through the clothes.

I laughed and rolled my eyes as I returned the dressing room.

“What about these hair styles” Dustin spoke up again. “Some of them are...yeah...they just are, no words!”

I had just stepped into a pair of plaid bell bottoms that I paired with a white billowy top. This outfit isn’t too terrible, I thought to myself.

Once again I left the dressing room, and responded to Dustin.

“I was thinking of wearing it straight. That was a style then right? Cher had long straight hair...” I said.

Claire rounded a short rack, with a pile of clothes in her arms. She was loving this.

She looked me up and down, smiling she said “get that! It looks great on you! Makes it look like you have legs for days!”

She shoved the pile of clothes at me and piggy backed off my suggestion of straight hair.

“Straight hair was a style, but you’ll have to learn the makeup too!” She said cheerfully.

“Really” I mumbled from behind the heap of clothes “maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I have to buy a whole new...used or whatever wardrobe, and now the hair and makeup styles? I don’t even keep up with today’s styles!”

“It will be worth it thought!” Dustin said, still scrolling through his phone.

Claire came up behind me and started steering me back into the dressing room all while saying “you have to look the part!”

The “That 70’s” fashion show continued for an hour. And I did indeed leave with a new wardrobe. I walked away with 2 pair of the shortest shorts I’d even owned, 3 pair of bell bottoms, including the corduroy, 7 tops, a few fun tees, and 2 pair of shoes. One of which was a pair of platforms that Claire insisted on, saying everyone wore them. I just hoped I didn’t break something while walking in them. I even found a dress that I actually liked. I wasn’t sure I’d need it, but Claire said to get it.

The entire drive back to campus Claire was going over the things I needed to buy once I was back in 1971. If she written this list on paper, it probably would have been a mile long.

Meanwhile, I sat quietly in the back seat, with my new, musty, apparel.

Dustin was eyeing me in the rear view when he spoke over Claire’s rambling.

“Hey, just focus on one thing at a time. Get a room first, then see what’s happening around you. No need to go overboard” he said.

Nodding, I mumbled “room first.”

Back in my dorm, I began sorting through the clothes so I could wash them, in hopes of ridding the musty smell. But the time alone was giving me time to think. Time to worry. Worry about what would happen if I wanted to come home sooner? Worry about what if something happened here while I was gone? What if something happened to me while I was gone?

This allowed the panic to set in. It was overwhelming and devouring any excitement I felt.

I began to feel nauseous. I was cold but sweating. I sat on my bed, taking deep breaths, trying to steady myself. I could do this. I wanted to do this. It had been my idea.

I would do this. I would go back to 1971 and see Queen, possibly even meet them. It would be a fun and exciting, albeit scary, adventure. I would do this.

The days that followed my friends didn’t allow me much time to myself. I’m not sure if it’s because they knew what I was going through, even without me saying, or because they knew I’d be leaving soon and they wanted time with me. Maybe it was a bit of both.

**

The night before my trip I couldn’t sleep, I tossed and turned, my mind was constantly going over scenarios or advice I’d been given.

Finally at 6am I allowed myself to get out of bed, so I went over my check list for the thousandth time.

At 7am I started getting ready. I had to be at Ryan’s at 9am, so I didn’t rush. I made sure I looked at natural 70s makeup and pictures of Cher for hair inspiration.

Once I was ready, I grabbed my suitcase and backpack, and headed to my car.

I still had some time before I was supposed to arrive so I swung through Starbucks and grabbed coffee for everyone. Especially me. Exhaustion was setting in.

I’d completely forgotten what I was wearing when I pulled up to the window. The barista gave me an odd look, and I mumbled something about a 70s themed party. Who had a party this early in the day, I thought to myself. But she must have bought it because she laughed as she handed me 2 trays of drinks.

When I pulled into the driveway at Ryan’s I still had about 10 minutes before I was supposed to arrive. Not wanting to seem too eager, I stayed in my car, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. Being exhausted and nervous a the same time was too much.

Suddenly there was a knock at my window, which caused me to scream and almost spill my coffee.

Ryan was laughing so hard he could hardly stand up straight when I flung the door open.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I asked, clutching at my chest.

He continued to laugh as he tried to invite me inside. I swatted at him and told him to grab the coffee.

Once we were inside and Ryan had stopped laughing at me, we sat in relative silence, sipping our liquid energy.

Finally he spoke up “you look like you stepped right out of the 70s.”

“Thanks...I’m scared” I finally said it out loud.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s ok...” he was cut off by a loud knock at the door, which then flung open as the rest of our friends hurried in.

There was so much talking and so many questions that I couldn’t even respond. The overwhelming feeling was coming back and my stomach was in knots.

After my friends had downed their coffee, we headed to the room where the “machine” resided.

It was like a dream. I was usually on the other side, waving goodbye to my friend, but the roles were now reversed. They stood there, their faces full of excitement and expectation, while I stared at them with wide eyes and my blood rushing in my ears. My fight or flight instinct was kicking in, but I stood my ground.

I looked each of my friends in the eyes one more time, when I finally came to Ryan, he said “see ya soon”.

That must have been my warning, because the next thing I knew, I felt the air leave my lungs, like I’d been punched in the stomach. It wasn’t at all what I expected. I thought I’d feel like I was falling, instead it was like the snap back when you’re bungee jumping.

Abruptly the feeling stopped, gasping, and I felt soft grass under my hands, I heard the sounds of a city, and I opened my eyes to the bright sun.

@ixchel-9275 @painkiller80 @painandpleasure86 @queensdivas @liliah39 @heybuddy-drabbles @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @deacyspatronusisacheesetoastie

[jlpplays1]

~Drake- “You’ll See, Walker..” He says with sweet smile and a kiss. ❤️ Part 1

Find Part 2 coming soon :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Book: The Royal Heir

~~all characters belong to pixelberry

Summary: Drake has planned a day of special surprises

(Both Parts =3,728 words)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note: hi guys!! this is a first for me, writing with my friend @justdani14 has inspired me to write a piece with drake, ‘do you want to dance?’ and it’s become this really super sweet, fun, silly (thanks to Maxwell's mention 😂) and a little bit of a long story that i built up from that. i wrote it a long time ago, around the time when the chapters still took place in our new duchy. but haven't posted it. i hope you like it. there are a lot of fun surprises in it and i had a lot of fun writing it. i wasn’t going to post it, but caved lol..so here you go ;) hopefully it gives you some smiles :) please be kind <3 i’d love to know your favorite part :)

I had to break it up into two parts because it was too long lol

Tagging-i don’t know who to tag, but i pulled a few of you from my collages tag list whom I think might like this <3 let me know if you would like to be added or removed x

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’ll see, Walker,” He says chuckling a little bit.

“I know we’ve been on many adventures together, but this is a new one. We’ve never dragged around the basement of our duchy before.” I chuckle too.

We keep on walking. The hallways down here are really dark and he’s got a flashlight. I keep on expecting to feel something furry run over my foot.

“Did you hear that?” We both look at each other at the same time. It was like a loud scurrying noise.

“I don’t know what that was, but why do I feel like something’s gonna pop up any minute making us spend more diamonds.”

“What-?”

“Oh nothing..”

. .

We continue climbing and walking through the hidden tunnels. They are dimly lit and it honestly smells a little funky in here.

“We’re almost there.”

“Where exactly are we going anyways?” I say, almost loosing my footing.

“I found this the other day, and I just couldn’t wait to show you..” He gently grabs my hand as we continue walking. The ground evening out.

“Drake seriously. I think I just saw a spider over there,” He can’t help but laugh a little and in turn, so do I. “Don’t laugh, Drake” I say pushing him a little “- it was a big one!”

“I’m sure it was, Walker.”

“That’s not funny, Drake.”

“No seriously- I bet it was a big one! I saw one the other day too.”

“Ew-"

“Let’s just say that when it’s crawling on the back of your neck,” He shutters “I learned that a shout really carries down these halls.. echos, I guess you could say.”

I can’t help but chuckle.. “A shout, huh?” I say looking at him. “Yeah,” He says with a laugh. “sound carried the same way Maxwell’s did when he screamed across the hall for us to get him some food from the kitchen while we’re up.”

“Bahaha that’s not where we were headed.”

“We certainly were not.” He says with a smile, kissing the top of my head, holding me close.

“Really though, these hidden halls are even more dusty with spiderwebs than the ones back at Liam’s place.” We continue walking.

“Heh, I know. All part of the ambiance and we are almost there I think. Brings back good memories though.”

We take one more turn around the corner.

“Ok, we’re here.”

He stands in front of me, putting both of his hands on my upper arms, looking into my eyes.

“Now, listen- I know that we are new here, but this is like it was made just for us.”

“What do you mean..?” He steps aside and pushes the back door open.

No. Way.

“It’s -"

“Our very own pool room. Just like the one back when we are traveling for the tour!” He says as we step in, closing the secret door completely. I make my way over to the beautiful pool table, it’s practically shining.

He moves to the front of the room, opening up the real door. Chance and Lady Lucky come prancing in. “Hey guys!”

I bend down giving them each a little pet as they dance around my feet, clearly happy to see us.

I look around again. It’s even more beautiful than I first thought it was going to be with the lights on. ‘Wow. He really worked hard on this.’ I think to myself, beaming with pride.

The door that we came through blends in seamlessly with the wall once it’s closed.

“Drake?”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t we just take that door to get here?” I say pointing to the obvious door to the right, past the pool table- the one that he just opened for the pups to come through.

“What’s the fun in that? “I told you I am the master of scouting out castles and all of their secrets.” He says with a smirk.

“Besides, it gives us another way to sneak off from all of the fancy dinners that we have coming our way.” He says pulling my side into his and giving me a little peck on the cheek. I will never get tired of his kisses.

“You are so right. That’s one of things I love so much about you, we even make the most boring of times fun.” I wrap my arms around his neck.

“We sure do.” He says giving me another kiss.

I take another look around the room.

“Drake this is so awesome!”

“I know, right!? I thought so too! This room even has a movie projector in the back over here, so we can sneak away and watch movies whenever we want too.”

“It’s like our very own home theater!” I say walking around the room, taking it all in. It really is beautiful in here.

“I request Princess Diaries.” I say propping myself up on the edge of the pool table.

“That’s what I figured, I know it’s your favorite, I have a few of my favorites in here too.” he says pulling out the dvd cases from next to the tv. “I also got us the day off from Royal Duties.”

“You are seriously the best, Drake Walker. How did you manage to pull this off anyways? I’ve been trying to take a day off for weeks now!”

“I just told them that we had some business to take care of and not to be disturbed for the rest of the day. But they do know where we are, for security reasons. But hey, I’ll take it!” He says chuckling. “So who cares if Mara knows where to find us..” he says rubbing the back of his neck, looking sheepishly at the floor.

“Drake!” I say getting a closer look, “This pool table looks so much like ours- well, that hotel’s that you found by the train, I mean. But I kind of think of it as ‘ours.’ You know what I mean.” I say.

“Exactly the one.” He says with a big grin.

“Turns out when you are a Duke in Cordonia you get put to the top of the call-back list. And I’ve got to say- there’s something special about it being the same one.” A huge smile lighting up his face.

“Aw Drake that is so sweet! And I totally agree. We have had some good memories with this pool table. It looks like it’s in great condition!” I say running my hands over the velvet upholstery and gold trim. Adding with a chuckle, “See there are some perks to being a fancy Duke!” nudging him. We both laugh.

“Yeah, and you.” He says. “You are the best perk of all and I’d take that title any day if it meant being with you.”

He rests his forehead on mine. I love him so much.

“I had it refurbished by a carpenter friend of mine, we worked together on it. You really like it?”

“I love it, thank you. And I love you.” I give him another kiss and lean into his embrace. He’s still got his arm around me.

“Is that a mini fridge!” I say hopping off.

“Yeah, but I haven’t stocked it yet..”

“Drake this is amazing.”

“You’re amazing.” He says right away.

“This was just a little something I could do for you after all that you do for me, for us.. I wanted to make it special for you. So once I found this place, I cleaned it up and brought it back to its former glory.”

“Thank you, Drake. This is one of the sweetest things you have ever done.” I say giving him another quick kiss. “You’ve succeeded in making your wife swoon yet again and we haven’t even played any pool yet.” I say with a smirk.

“I’m definitely glad you like it, Walker. And I definitely like hearing you be called my wife. I can see us spending a lot of time in here.”

I look around at our little family that will soon hopefully be growing. Drake has his arm around my waist. Chance and Lady Lucky have made themselves comfortable on the humongous couch. It brings a little tear to my eye. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Walker..so so much.” He says with a kiss.

“Plenty of room to spread out!” I say joining the pups, holding his hand. “This couch is seriously huge! Once our friends find out about this place, we won’t be able to get a moment alone.”

“Believe me, we’ll make the time.” He says, holding my hand.

“I’ve always liked pool, you know that,” he says rubbing the back of his neck “but playing pool with you is definitely-"

“A challenge?” I say cutting him off, leaning back a little bit to look him back up into his face, wiggling my eyebrows.

“Better. I was going to say better.”

“But you are pretty good at pool when you try.” He says laughing.

“Oh you know I’m better than ok!”

“You’re right, you kinda are.”

“Drake Walker I’ll have you know we tied on that faithful night of our pool game.”

“That’s just because you distracted me.” He says teasing with a deep but light chuckle, rubbing his chin and groaning a little.

“What was the word that you used- temptress?”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.”

“Why not, I thought it was cute.”

“Why not? Because that was one the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, to stay away from you.” I wrap my arms around his neck and straddle his lap. “Second hardest was having to sit through Maxwell’s one man show of ‘I’m a breakdancing machine: the 3 1/2 hour story of a Cordonia man’s rise to fame.’”

“No. Way. That sounds awful.” I say with a giggle. “Well you have me now so.. and oh god, please don’t let him know that I know about that. I don’t want to watch that for four hours.” I say climbing next to him and snuggling into his side, laughing a bit.

“See-second hardest thing.” He says laughing. “It started out with ‘When I was a young’n..’”

“No it didn’t!”

“I swear to god it did, longest 2 hours of my life.”

“I thought you said it was 3 1/2 hours?”

“I did, I didn’t say I lasted that long though. I told him I wasn’t feeling great and got the heck out of there!” He says rubbing his face.

“Drake!”

“What! We were like 8 and I couldn’t take another minute of those moves!”

“And get this- He reenacted the whole thing at my 23rd birthday party. Hopped up on the bar top and everything.”

“No way!!” I say sitting up and laughing a bit.

“I kid you not. Thought I’d never see that whole dreadful thing again, but there he was on the bar top doing the sprinkler. You better watch out he’s got that dance routine locked and loaded.”

We both burst out laughing.

“Omg I can just imagine him trying to do it at our baby shower or something!?”

“The things you missed, Walker- the things you missed..”

He tells me little bits and pieces of Maxwell’s one man show, that I can’t even imagine seeing in person. We both laugh pretty hard and by the time we get our breath back we sit in comfortable silence.

He tells me more stories from when he was younger. From when before I met him. I really love hearing those stories from my husband, hearing more about his childhood. We snuggle on the couch for a while swapping stories and holding hands.

My head is on his chest and my hand over his heart, gently rubbing circles on his belly and chest. It’s warm and I love feeling it beat beneath my hand in a steady rhythm while he talks to me. He’s gently rubbing his hand that’s around me in my hair. I’m snuggled into his side. We talk for hours, I could stay here like this all week.

~~

“I remember you saying how you and your mom used to sing this song to you, so I found it on a cd..” he pulls output a shiny copy of a cd with the words “I Can’t Help Falling in Love with you- Elvis Presley ” written across the disc.

..“Do you want to dance?”

...

. Part 2 . Coming soon .

[grimelords]

Hello I finished my July playlist a week ago but when I went to post it tumblr was down, and then I just plumb forgot! Anyway, here it is - properly sequenced this time for a very special listening experience that seamlessly delivers you from disco heaven to black metal hell and everything in between. Also I’m thinking of making these playlists a tinyletter that people can subscribe to that comes out on an actual schedule, rather than me posting them at a random time weeks after they’re finished. Is that something you’d be interested in? Who knows. Check back next month! Anyway, here goes:

listen here

Stay Away From Me - The Sylvers: You know when you’re listening to a song and the sample is super hot but the rest is just ok, so you think to yourself well why don’t I just listen to the original instead? That’s what happened to me with Final Form by Sampa The Great. That song is good but it’s also kind of not doing enough to convince me not to just listen to this super hit by The Sylvers instead. A fun thing with this song is to try to count how many instruments you can hear because it is surprisingly densely arranged for some reason. There’s a xylophone back there going off if you listen.

Sizzlin’ Hot - Paradise: The same thing happened with this song and Sizzlin’ by Daphni. I think they were going for an Armand Van Helden style distillation of the pure essence of the song, sampling the hookiest part and speeding it up and thickening up all the percussion and all that, which can work amazingly but for me it just made me want to hear the original and so I have been all month. What’s so good about being alive now is that in most cases it’s just as easy to access music from 2019 as it is to access music from 1981 where an original copy is apparently going for $1000 on discogs. Every day I thank god for inventing mp3s and putting them on the ark.

Manaos (Canzone) - Fabio Frizzi and Crossbow: I forget how I came across this, I was going through random Fabio Frizzi soundtracks for some reason. I just love the concept of a disco song about escaping from vicious assailants. Funkily singing ‘God help us, if they catch us we all are gonna die.’ as spears fly past you.

Holding On - Julio Bashmore: I think this is one of my favourite pieces of sampling ever. The way the vocals in the background are cut they don’t even sound like vocals. They just a strange contextless textural sound that works so well before eventually revealing itself as vocals in the run before the drop. It’s just so good.

Weight Watchers - Parallel Dance Ensemble: First of all I love this disgusting bass sound. It sounds like two different indistinct bass lines playing at the same time and they both drowned. I’m also mounting a change.org petition to bring back this kind of extremely naff Tone Loc flow, it rocks.

Dance - ESG: I found this incredible band while I was looking for the rapper ESG and I’m so glad I did. Their song UFO is one of those songs that’s been sampled so many times you think of it as more of a sound effect than a song, like it comes preloaded on a drum machine everyone has or something, but it’s also a good template for ESG’s sound. Every ESG song I’ve heard so far goes like this: a straightforward beat that doesn’t change for the whole song, a functional bassline that doesn’t change for the whole song, and good old fashioned simple lyrics about dancing and having a good time that sound more like schoolyard clapping games than anything. It doesn’t sound like much but over the course of an album it adds up to this incredible sort of hypnotic post-punk funk that I cannot get enough of. It sounds like kids who have 1 idea making a whole album out of it because that’s exactly what it is and it’s great!

Crave You - Flight Facilities: I love how elementally simple this song is. The vocals are hypnotising enough so everything else just quietly supports it. The only part that stands out is the thick bass synth halfway through which makes the short sax solo at the and all the sweeter, a tiny little cherry on top.

You - Delta 5: Get a load of this band bio: “Initially inspired by the success of local heroes The Mekons and Gang Of Four, Leeds, England’s Delta 5 later emerged as one of the key figures of the feminist new wave. Formed in 1979 by vocalist/guitarist Julz Sale, fretless bassist Ros Allen and bassist Bethan Peters.” Just going to gloss over them having TWO bass players before they even have a drummer?? Absolutely amazing. I love this song because it’s such a specific, targeted fury. Imagine being the loser at your girlfriend’s gig when she launched into this one for the first time. ‘who’s got homebrew with lots of sediment?’ oh fuck that’s me ‘who took me to the Windham for a big night out?’ oh fuck that’s me ‘I found out about you’ oh FUCK

Siren - Gong Gong Gong: I love the way the bass works in this, just looping and layering different variations of this noisy, stationary riff on top of itself - steadfastly staying in the exact same place the whole song and growing in power the whole time as it sits in its stubbornness.

Changes - Antonio Williams and Kerry McCoy: This came up on my Discover Weekly and I completely fell in love with it, then I realised it’s Antwan and Kerry McCoy from Deafheaven which is extremely intriguing collaboration and fell in love even more. The vocals are so good. The pure broken-hearted anguish, and the super blunt delivery that progresses to straight up yelling by the end of it combined with the Radio Dept type instrumentation is just so powerful. This feels like it’s a song that could really be a life-changing piece of catharsis for everyone in a 5k radius done live.

Fuck A War - Geto Boys: Absolutely in love with the conceit of this song: rapping a whole song down the line to the army drafter. The incredible part being of course that Bushwick Bill would be able to dodge any draft easily, being as he was both a dwarf and blind in one eye.

God Make Me Funky - The Headhunters: I found a lot of great songs going through the samples list for We Can’t Be Stopped by Geto Boys and this is one of them. I have so much love for any song that takes its time like this: nearly two minutes to set the scene and somehow taking deadly seriously the very funny lyrical idea of desperately praying to god to PLEASE make you funky.  The way this song escalates is also amazing, moving from a hot groove that sits in place to a full-on saxophone meltdown that feels like god placing his finger on your forehead and saying ‘so you want to be funky, do you?’ in a scary voice.

Use Me - Bill Withers: Fortunately and unfortunately, because of how this song was in Anchorman and because I’ve seen Anchorman one million times I can’t listen to it without hearing the noise Ron Burgundy makes when he sees Veronica in the first few seconds. Anyway, this song is so horny. The part where he has to explain to his bro how good this shit is? Doing all kinds of weird dom shit like ‘getting him in a crowd of high class people and then acting real rude to him?’ Weird. And the escalation into the claps at BABY! is amazing, he’s just going off powered by horniness and god bless him for it.

America! I’m For The Birds - Nicolas Jaar: Unbelievably, the deluxe edition of Sirens is possibly superior to the original. It’s a whole new tracklist, new songs interspersed throughout rather than the usual ‘three new songs at the end’ and it really gives it a whole new feel. This song is my favourite of the new ones and it’s a song I had in my head for a solid week. A perfect song to sing to yourself because the lyrics are so indistinct that you just end up mumbling pleasantly exactly like he is.

Cable Guy - Tierra Whack: I’m finally catching up on Tierra Whack and everyone’s right: she rocks. The sheer restraint in these songs is amazing, they just get in and out with only the good parts and no bullshit. It reminds me a lot of To The Innocent by Thingy which is one of my favourite albums for the same reason - the economy of the songwriting just serves to amplify the feeling of it. They both have this total irreverence in the lyricism where the songs are kind of about nothing but they’re so short and heartfelt that you dig for the feeling underneath it.

No Drug Like Me - Carly Rae Jepsen: I’ve previously written that what I love the most about the Carly Rae Jepsen is how horny it is and I’d like to double down on that sentiment here. I love how slow this song is, it’s the perfect tempo between danceable and ‘fucking’.

Con Calma (Remix) - Daddy Yankee, Katy Perry and Snow: I’ve been on a european holiday for most of this month and I would like to report that across Spain, Portugal, Czech Republic, France and Germany this is the absolute song of the summer. It is completely inescapable and personally I can’t get enough. Informer is one of the greatest and strangest one hit wonders of all time (it’s also canada’s highest selling reggae song of all time and Snow is thusly named because he’s white) and I’m psyched to hear it reworked by Daddy Yankee like this. Katy Perry being on the crossover attempt remix isn’t a good sign for her new album but she kills it so maybe that’s all that matters.

Chase The Devil - Max Romeo and The Upsetters: Here’s the other half of my short lived dub phase from the end of last month. This is a good example also of how completely beguiling lyrics can still be so effective. I have no idea what he means by putting on an iron shirt but it rhymes and he’s saying it with conviction so I’m nodding!

Glass - Bat For Lashes: The new Bat For Lashes songs have got me revisiting Two Suns which is an all time great five star album and this is my favourite song from it. Maybe the most powerful opening track of all time, it does as much worldbuilding as most fantasy novels do in 1000 pages. In fact almost every line in this is a viable fantasy novel title. A Thousand Crystal Towers. The Hand Of The Watchmen. A Knight In Crystal Armour. A Cape Of Rainbow. The way she sings ‘to be made of glass’ is.. incredible. I love Natasha Khan and I cannot wait to see what she does next.

Unsquare Dance - Paddy Milner: In searching spotify for other interpretations of Unsquare Dance after getting obsessed with it last month I came across this absolutely bonkers version. It’s maniacal, it feels like you would be physically and mentally drained by the end playing it because I am just listening to it. Need a little lie down.

Gimme Some Skin, My Friend - The Andrews Sisters: My girlfriend has turned me onto The Andrews Sisters lesser known hits recently and this is the best one: a song from when high fives were a novelty that those wacky blacks over in Harlem town were inventing. Extremely odd but an undeniable banger. The thing about The Andrews Sisters is one of them was an absolute force of nature as a performer and the other two were complete wet blankets and it’s kind of funny they were together as a group for their whole career because anyone with eyes can see where the real star is. The way she sings ‘baby’ at 1:25, and that whole run really, is absolutely amazing and so much better than this extremely dumb song deserves.

Kids On The Run - The Tallest Man On Earth: The piano sound alone in this is just so beautiful. This song could be about anything at all and it would still make me cry, and luckily for me: it basically is!

King Of Spain - The Tallest Man On Earth: Good song I had in my head the whole time I was in Spain. It’s incredible that his voice is so good. It feels like if it was even the tiniest bit different, slightly rougher or tinnier he would be completely hilariously unlistenable but instead he’s amazing. Plus the fact that he leans into it with the purposefully lo-fi trebly production is just so confident you can’t help but love it.

Romeo And Juliet - The Indigo Girls: A great cover I wasn’t aware of before that I heard in this great documentary Wildwood I was watching https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOWxnh012J0. The way she absolutely flies off the handle and nearly tears the song down around her near the last chorus is pure power and I love people who can do that in an acoustic song without it feeling overblown, just getting totally swept up in it and taking everyone along with you.

On The Bus Mall - The Decemberists: Definitely the number one song about gay teenage prostitutes who love each other and are optimistic against the odds.  

White Fire - Angel Olsen: This song feels like a piece of dark magic. It feels like a 4am moment of clarity, speaking everything true in a five minute monotone and then instantly falling back to sleep with only a dim memory in the morning.  

Glass Eyes -JW Ridley: JW Ridley is a genius and I cannot wait to see what he does with an album. Every song he puts out seems to be better than his last. The central melody in this is just beautiful, and the whole thing has so much space in it it feels so much longer than 3 minutes. It’s like a song you can live in.

Nullarbor - Floodlights: I love how rough this song is, and driving across australia because you’ve got nothing else going on and want to rattle your own cage is a Huge mood.

Made Too Pretty (Audiotree Live Version) - As Cities Burn: I’m so glad As Cities Burn are back, because it means they get to do good shit like this Audiotree session where they absolutely killed it.

Dirty Hearts - Dallas Crane: I think I’ve put this on a playlist before for exactly the same reason: it’s a song I wake up with in my head fairly often for some reason and it’s a very fun slice of pub rock that doesn’t overstay it’s welcome.

Ruin This Smile - The Number 12 Looks Like You: Did you know The Number 12 Looks Like You have reformed after 10 years away and haven’t missed a step at all?? I’m salivating. This song is as good as anything they’ve put out before, and feels like it fits somewhere between Mongrel and Worse Than Alone which is fantastic news for me who always loved those a lot more than their earlier more explicitly grindcore stuff.

Nutrient Painting - Yellow Eyes: A special thanks to my friend and yours Powerburial for linking this song on his twitter. There’s something about the guitars in this song, in almost every riff, where it sounds like they’re playing backwards somehow. Like the structure of the melodies is backwards. It doesn’t make sense but that’s what it sounds like to me and it’s very disconcerting.

Jejune Stars - Bright Eyes: I think this an underrated Conor Oberst era, when he became a sort of buddhist for a while and wasn’t sad anymore but just observed earth from outer space instead. I also love the instrumentation of this song, Bright Eyes and blast beats a match made in heaven. Also the strange sample about pom’granite at the end is one of my favourite things ever. A very strange album to retire the Bright Eyes name on but a very good one too.

At The Bar - Dirty Three: When I was overseas I was thinking about cultural music, and Australia’s place in the world and things like that. I ended up thinking about Dirty Three who I think along with The Drones make the most distinctly Australian sounding music to me. Just the vastness they manage to conjure from such straightforward barebones instrumentation is incredible.

listen here

[rudeinterrupti0ns]

Amazon Prime Concert

ok here are all my thoughts about the gig. i've already posted a few thoughts such as how brilliant the audience were before taylor even came on, chanting her name and then screaming to high hell when appeared, and a few other things, but i've sort of decided to live post a bit in one post to be less annoying. so here is my terrible stream of consciousness, live from my bed and thanks to a total lack of sleep!

omg she's starting with me! yay!- i loved that she played this first. her first song released which is, at the end of the day, owned by her and it's so happy and cheery and it's such a positive start to this era. love it. also the video is unbeatable. suddenly thinking about benjamin. been distracted brb.

blank space - hell yeah after the last few weeks taylor's gonna play blank space! another great big fuck you to the media's opinion of her. god i love this song. she so smort. this song will never age because the media will always be this dumb. this is why taylor's timeless.

owh she's giving a speech about everyone already being the most supportive crowd. good work gang. that's what we were aiming for tonight.

ikywt - i felt it was really interesting she played ikywt, especially given that it's one of the few songs sc**ter changed on apple music. to me it felt like she was reminding everyone that it was HER song, no matter what he did with it. ooh a slightly funky ending! ooh taylor yeah mix it up!

'I wrote all of it'' YES TAYLOR! fucking tell em! we will never forget this. and i love that this is how she's dealing with it. cause she's right. tbh it's not like she needs the money from them and although i'm sure it fucking HURTS to a) be backstabbed by someone so close to her and b) have her musical children in the hands of someone else, she knows that in the world's eyes and in the fans' eyes and especially in her eyes the music is hers. and that's so important. we're not under any pretences that entire albums were ghostwritten like some singers do. we know that taylor's work is her own and so we accredit it to her. so i'm glad she's reminding everyone publicly again who wrote those somgs because she deserves to reiterate that no matter whose hands those songs are in...that she wrote them. good for you taylor.

love story yay!! - i cried during the intro lmao happens every time. and oh my god. there's a guy in the backwards cap during the first verse and he is so intensely singing the words and staring at taylor and it is amazing someone please find him. and oh my god PAUL SIDOTI YES BB show him the love he deserves.

"A little me and you time one on one on the guitar" YES PLEASE AND NEW YORK CITY HOOOOOLD UP WHAT YOU SAYING-

"I get inspired by lots of things in life, not just my own life but books and relationships between characters... but then there's being inspired by a place. That definitely happened to me when i spent a lot of time in new york city... this is the FIRST song that I wrote which was inspired by new york city" OK GUYS SHE HAD A MAJOR INFLECTION ON THE WORD "FIRST" I BET THERE'LL BE ANOTHER IN LOVER!!!!!!

ok side note i've just noticed yellow stars on the frets of taylor's guitar WHAT IS THE STAR THING?? so many easter eggs, so few brain cells.

AND YOU CAN WANT WHO YOU WANT BOYS AND BOYS GIRLS AND GIRLS yes taylor you show them that yntcd isnt queerbaiting you've been publicly supporting lgbtqa+ for yonks give them the receipts!! also this has got to be a shout out to the us womens soccer team. so cute. so deserving.

well that was bloody beautiful taylor. what a lovely version of that song. we have been blessed.

DELICATE 123 LGB!!! her face when everyone screamed it oh my god. she loves it. she fucking gets it. i love that amazon didn't censor it in time lmao, they weren't stan enough to know it was coming. i bet there was at least 1 swiftie working there keeping their mouth shut just so we could get an hq version of 123lgb lmao. brilliant.

also isn't delicate just so fucking good? ahhhhh the switch from acoustic to the backing track! love that. the kick into the 2nd verse is my favourite bit. great stuff.

STYLE. i s2g i hear the tiniest part of the beginning of the backing track and my whole body lights on fire. there really is no song like style. it is a pop masterpiece.

she's talking about lover!! - a love letter to love itself AHHHHHHHHHHHH!! love is complexity, struggle, pain, joy, hope... love is EQUALITY YEEEEEEEEET god she's such a good precious lil bean!!!! so much support for the queer community this era i am so here for it.

"would it be ok if for the first time ever we play yntcd live?" lmao taylor WHAT DO YOU THINK? hooooly shit. i love it.

ahh she's dancing! aha omg the little boxing motions taylor u geek. owh her lil choreography ugh, soft bean. MUST HAVE TAKEN ALL NIGHT lmaoooo her face. CAUSE SHADE NEVER MADE ANYBODY LESS GAY yes the crowd went IN! well done bbs. and omg why does amazon keep cutting to people standing there being miserable??? they've done it the whole show like what are these camera people doing?!?! maybe focus on people actually obviously having fun lmao. um also i see the beachballs in the background video... is that a wango tango reference? who knows maybe she's somehow made it another easter egg, incredible work.

last song?? noooo! but SHAKE IT OFF yes!! you literally feel the vibe in the room change. there's something about that song man. you literally cannot help but dance. god i wished i lived in nyc. for so many reasons. but also so i could have attended this. so much fun!!

LIARS AND DIRTY DIRTY CHEATS OF THE WORLD yes taylor fucking TELL THEM. these are your words!!! and you own them and you can apply them to whoever you want. because you are the rich man!! you are so strong and powerful and don't you forget it!

also whenever i see the shake it off rainbow confetti i just die. the love in that room.

oh she's going around holding everyone's hand!! TAYLOR!!!!!!

ok that was so much fun. now just 2 more days til july 13th 👀 and 4 days til my birthday, what a life we lead. hope you enjoyed my stream of connsciousness it probably reads terribly but i'm very excited and underslept. CONGRATS @taylorswift you KILLED it as usual!! @taylornation

[writers-clique]

Heartless

This is a horror short story I wrote. It’s a bit inspired by the TV show You. If you like a bit of horror, stalker, creepiness or just enjoy reading short stories from time to time, this one’s for you. Happy reading >:)

Heartless

I have been waiting for five years to return it. The fist-sized box sitting neatly in the passenger seat next to me. Its intricate red bow matches the black leather of the container. I listen to the AC’s cacophonous rumble as I look at the endless road in front of me. Normally, I prefer to have silence during long journeys like these. I can ponder about life, the sheer cliché of how meaningless it is and how unimportant each person is, no matter what their mothers, teachers or other equally unimportant individuals have told them before. But alas, the scorching desert sun is too powerful for the little heart inside my box so I turn up the cold air and try to ignore it.

At this point, you may be wondering if you read that last line correctly or you may have missed that specific minor detail entirely, doesn’t matter. Jhona is the only one who has to see it, right there on his kitchen counter, in all its veiny glory. It will be splendid! Watching the color drain from his face the way Mia’s blood gushed onto the tiles. Oh, who’s Mia? She’s just the girl who stole my heart.

*********

Five years ago, a senior going into school for his last day—that’s when I met her. I was walking towards the main doors when they suddenly opened and hit me in the face.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Is your nose alright?” she said, covering her mouth and trying to hide a smile.

“Uh, yes. At least I think so.” I felt a bit of blood drip down my nostril onto my lip. It tasted delicious.

“You’re bleeding! I’m really sorry! Let me help you with that.” She snatched the books from my hands and, for a brief second, I felt her skin upon mine. Warm and tanned against my cold and pale arm.

She insisted on walking me to class, even though she didn’t have to. And whilst we walked, we talked. She turned out to be quite brilliant in ways I didn’t think someone at our school could be. She was into old literature, but wasn’t too picky, listened to good music and looked quite good as well. I knew her soul was bound to be interesting. And so, that same night after graduation, I went online and searched for “Mia Darlington”. And a darling she was. The whole of her Instagram and Tumblr was open for anyone to look at. I mean, it was like I had struck a golden mine of disposable information, all just a swipe and a tap away. That’s where I learned about a party that would be happening to celebrate the fact that half of these morons managed to scrape up enough IB points for a diploma of some sort, while the rest of us would actually succeed to some degree in life (pun intended). It would happen in a fortnight at Braden’s parents’ lake house. The whole thing would last for two days. After that she’d be mine.

In the fortnight that followed, Mia and I got closer than ever, which of course she didn’t know. I followed her around from a distance. She had quite the schedule. Guitar lessons, fitness, drawing, meditating. She had it all. Her bedroom window was conveniently positioned towards the road so my view from a bush across the street was perfect. By the time the party happened, I knew her better than she knew herself.

It had been three hours, fifty two minutes, twenty seven seconds and counting since the start of the party and she still had not arrived. I was growing rather impatient and, dare I say, worried. I decided to strike up a conversation with one of those buffoons who knew her, that way when she finally appeared, I’d have a head start for a conversation. I saw one of the guys from her Instagram. He was peculiar, but simple, one of these football goons. And yet, there he was, staring into his punch cup, looking depressed and out of place. Peculiar. I strategically placed myself near the refills and soon enough he approached. He filled the glass up to the rim with Jagermeister. Pathetic.

“Rough night?” I asked, mimicking his movements.

“Ha,” he took a swig of his drink, “you couldn’t have said that better.”

“Oh, really? Why so?”

“What do you care man? Who are you?” he drunkenly yelled and stumbled forward.

This would be harder than previously imagined. “Look, I’m sympathising with you. This party sucks.”

“It wouldn’t suck if . . . if she was here.” He whispered that last part, but I was closer than his drunk mind let him know.

Just then, his phone rang. The picture was of Mia, one I hadn’t seen before which was once more peculiar. I had gathered pretty much every picture of her, down to the ones she was too small to remember. At this point, he started muttering things to himself, obviously in no state to speak to her. That’s when the dots connected and I decided to use this particular lamentable moment of his to my benefit.

“Hi, who’s this?” I picked up the phone. I decided to play dumb and let her fall for me, believing it was her choice.

“Umm, I could ask you the same thing. Where’s Judah?” She didn’t sound pleased and the fact she didn’t recognize my voice admittedly hurt me.

“He- he’s having a bit of a rough night. It’s Adgar speaking by the way.”

“Adgar? Oh, wait aren’t you that guy I smacked into two weeks ago? I didn’t know you were friends with Judah.”

“Well, you don’t know a lot of things about me.” I thought that was a good line, so I made my voice husky at the end. I imagine that’s what James Bond would do.

She laughed. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“So umm, how come you’re not at the party?

“How did you know I was going there?” Suspicion slipped into her voice.

Crap, think Adgar, think you idiot.

“Oh, well Judah’s been crying that you haven’t come all night, so I figured you were going to come originally.” I tried to inject a smile into my voice the way some people do. It worked.

“He has? Well, doesn’t matter. I’m almost there so since you’re taking care of him I trust he’ll be OK.” She sounded distant and didn’t even let me reply before she hung up. That annoyed me.

I looked back for Judah, except he wasn’t there. Great, now I had to babysit a drunk blockhead instead of preparing for Mia. The plan was to find him and then tie him up somewhere in the woods where he wouldn’t cause any trouble. Finding him turned out to be easy. All I had to do was go for a leak, and there he was lying on the bathroom floor in his vomit.

Now how would I get him out without causing involuntary attention? The answer came from a shout of “CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!” downstairs. That’s right, his equally stupid drunk friends wouldn’t remember a thing either, and they were loyal to him, like a golden retriever to its owner. All I had to do was spin a little white lie about the “unimaginable awesomeness” of them pulling the “greatest trick” in party history - tying Judah to a tree whilst he’s unconscious. I mean, it was honestly laughable how easily they agreed. Good thing they were drunk.

It took three of them to carry him downstairs and into the forest. I mean, I didn’t even touched him. All of the evidence pointed to them. They were so wasted they didn’t notice me drifting back to the house, leaving them in the darkness.

By the time I came back, Mia was there. She was something to see. In her own world. Dancing along to whatever indie song they had put on, drink in one hand. She looked like she’d floated down straight from heaven. A beautiful gift just for me, all wrapped up in a tight red dress, beach curls slightly bobbing up and down.

Now the hardest part was approaching; I had to approach her. I decided to rip that bandaid straight off and just went for it. Confidence after all, is key.

“Hey, you’re the girl who smacked me in the face.” I tried the James Bond voice again.

“Hey, you’re the guy I smacked in the face.” She smiled.

Good, that’s good. Smiling is always a positive thing.

“Care for a refill?” I reached towards her cup.

“Yeah, sure.”

Like taking candy from a baby. People reading this, I’m going to give you a pro tip. Never. Ever. Give your glass to someone you don’t know at a party, bar or wherever. They may just put something funky in there. Sad thing really, she’ll never get to read this.

I had prepared an excuse just in case anyone was to give me trouble: “Oh she was just so tired, poor thing fell asleep.” But, as predicted, they were all too drunk and too self absorbed to notice. She was a bit heavy I must admit, heavier than I imagined. Of course, though, she fit perfectly into the trunk of my car. I was not staying for the remainder of this party and neither was she. What happened next was a two hour long, silence filled car ride in which every speed bump I hit I worried about her. I mean, I loved her. If she got even a single bruise, I swore not to forgive myself.

Once we had arrived home, I placed her in the basement where she would be staying until I knew that her love for me was eternal. I had already prepared the room: soundproof door, mattress, chains on the wall. I laid her down gently and put on her shackles, then I sat on a chair and waited. Waited for her to wake up and for our souls to connect, our love so powerful.

As you may have guessed already, that did not happen. What ended up happening was an intense conversation and double murder.

“Wh-where am I,” she muttered sitting up.

“You’re home,” I smiled. I wanted to reassure her.

“Home? I’m not home! You-you took me here! Why am I chained up? Somebody help, help!” She started screaming. Shaking. Tugging at the chains. Going rabid.

“Now, now. There’s no need for that. No one can hear you anyway.” The effect of my words didn’t convey what I wanted, as she didn’t calm down and become rational, but started throwing herself on the floor, sobbing and yelling harder than before. I decided to give her some time.

One day later, as predicted, she had calmed down. She was also starving and I used that to my advantage, as I did with many things. I brought her a plate of her favorite food - seafood paella - which I’d learned to make specifically for her. She took the plate and started gorging on the warm food. I found that curiously arousing.

“So you’re ready to talk like humans?” I tried a smile, but her cold stare disapproved.

“You’re no human! You’re an animal.” Rice grains fell out of her mouth as she yelled, and I couldn’t help but point out the irony by raising an eyebrow. Once more my humor was not appreciated.

“Let me go! What do you even want from me, you nutcase!?”

“I’m glad you asked me. See, Mia, darling, I love you, and I know that if you give me a chance, you’ll love me too.” I said that with what I thought was my most convincing and confident smile, and yet her eyes widened and her eyebrows formed an angry looking V on her usually beautiful face, turning it into something quite displeasing.

“I. Will. Never. Ever. Love. You!” She threw the plate at the wall, smashing it. The meal splattered on the ground.

“I don’t think I like your tone.”

“I don’t care what you like! I hate you! I only love Judah!”

“Silence! I will NOT let myself believe these lies you are utterring!”

“They’re not lies! I will never love you. Judah is the only person I’ve ever truly loved.”

There it was. The first murder. She plunged deep with her nails into my chest and stole my heart. Devoured it even! For the next several days, she tried everything to escape and I tried meaninglessly to make her mine, but she would not have it. And on top of that, her phone would not stop buzzing with messages from her family, friends and, irritably, Judah. I was losing hope as all she would talk about was Judah. That’s when I finally realized she had destroyed my heart, absolutely pulverized it. No more of that. An eye for an eye, a heart for a heart.

I think she knew the end was coming the moment I walked into the basement. The dark gloves probably gave my intentions away. I decided I didn’t wish to waste any more of my time. I advanced towards her, wordlessly. Silence was the way I liked to do these things. Just like a car ride, slow and enjoyable. She once again started one of her intense screaming sessions. A wailing, powerless shriek. Left on the front door of Mr. Death. At his mercy.

I smacked her into unconsciousness and dragged her towards the bathroom. No blood would be spilled in my basement. Once in the bathroom I decided on a barbaric sort of death for her, the way she killed my heart. I gently opened the toilet lid and placed her head on the seat. What followed was an intense upper body workout resulting in a broken toilet lid and smashed skull. I sprinkled the little bone fragments into the toilet bowl and flushed. I had decided on selling what was left of her on the dark web.  Everything except her heart. You see I needed it. Heart transplants aren’t cheap and since she was the one who’d stolen mine it was only fair she gave one back.

So now that you’re all caught up, let’s go back to present times. I have recently met a girl, even better than Mia. She’s given me back my heart in ways I could never have imagined. We met a week ago. She dropped her purse and I gave it back to her. Her knight in shining armor. I love her. I no longer need Mia’s heart, but I know someone who does.

Coincidentally, once people knew Mia was not coming back, Judah fell into depression. Or at least that’s the theory. Supposedly, he got back from the party, but he didn’t really get back. He left poor innocent Judah behind. He was going to be a football player at some top university but now he spends his days drinking away whatever life is left inside of him and scaring the kids in our little old town.

So I’m giving him a present. Something he’ll cherish and remember forever.

I hope you appreciate this, Judah. I know how much you loved her with all your dying heart.

Love, Adgar.

[mvdipetsch]

what kind of rps do you want to see?

i always suck at answering this question, because i’m so temperamental and at the moment i have no idea what’s in the tags, but:      > i want more lsrpgs. i know we all love to hate the tag, but i love writing and i wish more roleplays were writing based now. ( i’m not getting into an “it’s not all about the aesthetics” rant, but.. y’know.)      > i want more rps that are small, shitty towns in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. there doesn’t even have to be anything ~spooky~ going on with the town, i just like small town rps!!!! i’m a basic bitch!!!     > i don’t know how you’d do it, but i want a roleplay that’s kind of like 9-1-1!! that show slaps, so the rp world should reflect that ( also no season 2 spoilers pls, i haven’t seen the last 2 episodes yet!! )     > a good points rp. they come around every once in a while + i love the idea of them. that said, they are / can be a lot of work so it’s kind of one of them.      > i will accept a good secrets rp if it’s not trash. but 9/10 times they’re all the same kind of “here’s a bunch of rich kids, oh no!! their secrets!! i appear to have dropped them all over the floor!!!” and okay there’s nothing really wrong with that, but i just........ want something funky fresh.      > a good-ass music rp. i was in a really good one a few years back ( that worked really well with the points element cause you had to gain points to climb the ranks okay but i can never remember the rp @. it’s also the “nina dobrev latina” roleplay, if you remember those rants. )      > i want more night vale - inspired rps. right now, night vale is the only thing that really gets me to sleep, so .. gimmie more.      > finally, i want a good ass murder rp. i know they all come around when it’s halloween and it’s not halloween now but whatever, i like murder !! gimmie !! 99% of the problem with these rps tho is that ( a ) people get bored or ( b ) admins disappear :(      > GENERALLY , give me more uk - based rps. cause i love the usa dont get me wrong ( hello have u seen what im gonna study at uni lmao ?? ) but please.......... im weak...... a uk - based rp that isn’t LONDON because london can smd.     > ok i think that’s it >:) 

[curiousview-blog]

You’re not alone

The sixth part of ‘How to stop drinking: A guide for normal people’. A series in which I am sharing my reflections on living, and staying sober, in a fun, honest, down-to-earth way to show that an alcohol-free life is possible. Previous chapters can be found below on www.samwarren.net

My deep breath plunge into the deep end of sobriety, was partly because I’d seen someone leap before me. I’d always considered a close friend of mine to be a heavier drinker than me, and she’d just quit. A therapist she was seeing for chronic anxiety refused to treat her until she got help for her drinking, referring her to Alcoholics Anonymous. Yes, AA. When she’d told me a couple of months before, all I could think was that my funky, cool, intelligent, wonderful, gorgeous friend had been forced to join the glum circle of broken old drunks on uncomfortable chairs in a depressing community centre hall. How awful! But if she could do it, could I?

Image credit: Amita.K.Patel, Pinterest

Of course AA turned out to be nothing like that. She’d spoken to me of how incredible the meetings were, and how much inspiration she was getting from even the ‘broken old drunks’ - and especially them in fact. On that last hungover Monday morning, with fear-soaked fingers and blurred eyes from crying, I texted her. “I can’t do this any more. Tell me about AA” I mean, if she could stop drinking, then surely there was hope for me? She told me to get online, find a meeting happening near me that night and just go. Then call her directly after. “Honestly babe, they’re just like us” was her parting advice. Google ‘AA meetings’ and see what you get. I was stunned. There are gatherings of people who want to quit drinking literally everywhere in the country, every day of the week, and sometimes more than once a day. Rather like rats, you are probably never more than 12 steps away from one.

I will never forget my first AA meeting. I was terrified of going, but the thought I might never drink alcohol again was almost paralysing. How the HELL was that even possible? I’d rather die than live as a boring, dull, shameful sober person. Putting on my coat to leave my flat on that dark rainy night in March felt like walking to my own execution. But I kept on walking because I’d told my friend I would. It wasn’t too far away, and in a familiar area of town, but when I got there, I couldn’t find the place. FFS, I needed this to be easy!  The address I had seemed to be for a PUB!? Surely they didn’t hold AA meetings in a room above a pub? 

Image credit: Lars Ploughmann, Flickr 

This tickled me immensely, and I think it was the amusement of that ludicrous thought that stopped me from turning round and walking very quickly home again (via the off licence). Eventually, in the drizzly gloom, I noticed an alleyway tucked to one side that led to a brightly lit, low brick building in the car park behind the pub. I must have looked lost as a man asked me if I was, “here for the meeting?” and showed me in. I forget his name, but I won’t forget his smile.

Entering that bright bustling room from the dark outside felt like a giant step into sunshine. The windows were steamed up from damp coats and hot coffee. Everyone was milling about chatting and laughing, folks from all walks of life. There were all ages - some much younger than me too, which I didn’t expect. So. Many. People. I didn’t know if this was wonderful (I’m not alone!!) or awful (Jeez, it’s an epidemic!). It’s the smiles and the laughter that I recall most from my time with AA. I didn’t complete the 12 steps, I only stayed 4 months in fact. I could see how attending a meeting every day (or more) could turn into another addiction. I’m absolutely not knocking anyone who has made AA a way of life or who is wonderful enough to volunteer and help run the incredible organization that it is, just that for me, I wanted alcohol out of my life, which included sitting around talking about not drinking as much as the actual drinking part. I might not be drunk, but alcohol would be there with me all the same.

But in those early days and weeks of sobriety, you need to feel part of something bigger, to trust that others’ have your back – even strangers – and that you’ll be caught if you fall. It’s estimated that half a million people in England alone are dependent drinkers, but 82% of those are not in treatment. You are most definitely not alone. You probably didn’t start drinking by yourself, and you don’t have to stop on your own either. You only need to reach out. I’d wholeheartedly recommend you at least start your separation from alcohol with the support of others – whether that’s an organised meeting, an online forum, or just reading these posts. 

That room held the strangest gathering of human beings I’d ever encountered. It was wonderfully affirming. People brought together by a desire to get well, regardless of age, colour, race, class. Some were visibly damaged by their addictions, standing beside others you’d never guess were alcoholics in a million years. I was offered a mug of hot coffee from a big silver urn by people just like me – young professional women. My contribution to the kitty was refused on account of it being my first meeting. People welcomed and congratulated me with such genuine warmth. I felt at home, despite obviously looking perplexed at holding a hot mug at 8pm instead of a cool glass. A smart woman in a suit, kicked off her high heels to tug on some trainers. She smiled at me reassuringly. “It’s OK” she said, “we drink a lot of tea here!”

Image credit: Zepbrook refreshments, zepbrook.co.uk