#so im throwing this into the void of the internet instead

[froggowivdagudvibes]

Poem for ya :)

[writings-of-nova]

firstly, id like to start this off with if you're sensitive to depressing topics, this probably is not the blog for you.

now, to introduce myself. for the sake of keeping my identity private i will not be using my actual name. so, you can call me nova. im 19, and use they/them pronouns.

so, why does this exist? frankly, i don't really know either. i just want to send my feelings off into the void of the internet without people knowing who i am, and maybe if this post has reached your corner of the internet it could help you.

so, where does our story begin? it begins in 2005. i won't tell you guys my birthday just yet, maybe you'll learn it eventually tho. i was born to a very dysfunctional household and this is going to be a very main part of my life story. i was born with a cocaine dependency due to my mother using said drug while she was pregnant with me, for her whole pregnancy. this has caused me to have multiple chronic health issues. it also caused me to have multiple mental health conditions, which is another main part of my backstory.

from a very young age, i remember my mother and grandmother constantly getting into fights. they'd scream, throw punches at each other, and more than a few times it escalated into them throwing kitchenware, instruments, electronics, whatever was in arms reach at the time, at each other. and growing up, i thought that was completely normal. however, as with many other things, i'd grow to learn that it wasn't normal.

things were then pretty uneventful other than my mother and grandmother fighting quite literally every single day. which, obviously isn't an ideal situation, but you'll soon learn that that was the calmest part of my life.

when i was 3, i experienced my first major health scare. i had to go to the hospital because i couldn't breathe and i was near death. they said it was bronchitis that developed into pneumonia and i had a good chance of not surviving. but, i did. however, sometimes i wish i didn't.

life from then on was pretty much the same cycle. deal with my mom and grandmother fighting every single day, hide in the bathroom because they started throwing things at each other, go visit family, and a few more things.

then i started school. now, i was horribly neglected when i was growing up in that house. i was never bathed, my hair was never brushed, because i simply was never taught these things. instead of having a loving family that helped me take care of myself, my grandmother and mother were too busy fighting, and my grandfather was too busy dealing with them fighting to teach me that stuff. he tried though. and you'll come to learn that out of these 3 people, the only one i even slightly grew any form of love for was my grandfather. now, when you're an obviously neglected child starting kindergarten in the public school system where i live, you get relentlessly bullied. people would comment on how bad i looked. they'd make fun of me for it. i smelled like cigarette smoke from my grandmother chain smoking about 3-4 packs a day, and i smelled like animal piss because they couldn't even take care of their animals.

i do want to make a sidenote here and say this, if you're thinking of having a child and you know you live in a dysfunctional household, don't. my parents just simply not having me could have prevented all of this.

my school life was horrible to say the least. i had random kids come up to me multiple times just to bully me, shove me, or poke at me because i was an autistic child and i didn't like getting touched so id melt down. and they'd laugh at me. then, one day, this random kid walks up to me, and full on punches me in the nose. what was i doing that i deserved to get punched? i was sitting alone on the playground because i didn't have any friends.

because of some rule that i didn't know the school had that i broke, i got expelled from that school and had to move schools. and i really thought that this new school was gonna be amazing! they gave me gifts my first day and i actually had people taking an interest in me.

granted, this did not last long, and soon at this school too id begin to get bullied. thankfully tho, it never got physical. first grade was pretty easy, it wasn't too bad at first. at the end of that school year it did start to get rough.

however, this is where id meet some of my best friends. i don't want to use their actual names, but we'll call them bee and zee. these two were there for me all the way until the end of 7th grade, and i will forever be grateful to them.

now, you've probably noticed i haven't mentioned my father once in all of this. that's because i didn't know him until i was 6. the man i thought was my father was actually just some random dude my mom ran off with while she was still with my actual father. and yes she was actively pregnant with me when she met this man. i don't remember much about the man i thought was my father for the first 6 years of my life. all i remember is a shitty apartment and some ferrets.

when i was 6 i got to meet my actual father. i originally was just introduced to him as one of my mom's friend's, however they quickly noticed how i acted complete different around him compared to her other friends. because apparently i knew. the ages of 6-11 are a complete blur for me though, so i don't know exactly how valid this claim is.

life is pretty blurry from here on out. at least, up until i was 7. when i was 7, however, my mother overdosed and passed. i didn't even know it was an overdose until i was 13. and even then, when i learned about it being an overdose, i thought it was accidental. it was only a few days ago that i learned that it wasn't.

now, everything from my mother passing and beyond i do not remember. only small things like family members dying. i regained my memory back at the end of age 11. i don't exactly want to know why i have lost my memory of this point in my life, but i do have a few ideas that it was something not very fun.

my memory comes back for a brief bit at the age of 10. i was repeatedly sa'ed by my neighbor, which unfortunately i do remember all of. this, unfortunately, would not be the last time this has happened in my life.

once again, i don't remember anything until i was 11, almost 12. however, one day when i was at school, i got called to the principal's office. when i got there, the police were waiting for me. apparently, and i have absolutely no memory of this, i was sa'ed by two of my family members on a trip to maryland. ill go more into this trip in the next paragraph.

the trip to maryland when i was 11 was something that felt like a dream. it was an international championship for baseball, and the family member i was staying with had two players for the korean team staying with them. little did i know, i was getting drugged and sa'ed. im over it now, however, it fucked me up for a while.

because of what happened in naryland, i had to move in with my dad. we don't exactly get along, but it's better than what i had to deal with. we fight a lot, but it's better than the other option.

now, i just try to exist the best i can. it's hard a lot of the time though. im hoping that maybe, just maybe, this post will reach out to someone else, someone thats maybe going through a similar situation.

if you are going through a similar situation however, please know, im here for you. i see you. i see everything you've gone through and i love you. if you feel unloved, hopeless, anything like that, please know it will get better.

even though ive gone through so much, now, life may suck. but ive got a loving boyfriend and friends that have gotten me through everything. you can get through this. i believe in you.

this blog will be for me to talk about my feelings. and maybe, just maybe, i can help someone out there feel less alone.

[lolothesilly]

to comment about your rss feed post- i never stopped using rss feeds, when google tried to strike them down and many large websites gave up i kinda was just out of the loop because i never use corporate stuff in the first place. so remembering that there are still places that use rss feeds like tumblr is important to getting people to migrate from phone models to legacy ones, but i think at the end of the day the greatest evil is all the ui changes that came with the smart phone i have a flip phone and my daily driver is my laptop i am never off of, theres so many ui differences in endless scroll feed based websites that the people on neocities RESENT and desperately do not want to emulate so i really hope people are happy with how small and cute and sincere it is right now and use ANOTHER website maker to do more of what that post was talking about. because neocities is a spiritual successor of geocities and the traditions of webrings and guestbooks and emailing people directly and following the breadcrums of links is all apart of the learning curve and to disrupt that for the lesser endless feed scroll model is going to get us back to what corporate hell has entrapped us in. since twitter migration started on tumblr nobody makes real blog posts, people are alergic to paragraphs and intimacy and sincerity. i just appreciate neocities for having that and being too desperate for EVEN MORE USERS when we already have so many scares me, i already got to get off of tumblr for the expansion reasons that made it unusable and out right dangerous for me as a queer person. theres benefits many in being obscure and small.

im sorry i cant tell if im having a hard time processing this ask or what, im not 100% sure what youre saying here but ill try to respond as best i can, sorry if i misinterpret anything!!

so like i definitly agree with the "allergic to paragraphs and intimacy and sincerity" thing, i was thinking about it more last night and i think its a good thing that neocities doesnt really lend itself as much to the short-form posts you see on tumblr and twitter. bc like. i remember when i was a kid/teen, that kind of shortform flow-of-consciousness posting was mostly found in:

chatrooms (chatzy, IRC, guestbooks, shoutboxes, etc)

early social media status updates (like on myspace or facebook, the "had starbucks today lol 😜" kind of stuff)

and like. the niche chatrooms used to fill is now mostly filled by discord (though i know discord has Problems and i Think ive heard of alternatives to it?? havent looked into that as much) but. i think neocities being a home for longer posts about your interests is SO valuable honestly and i want more people to embrace that kind of thing!!

i feel like theres a sort of craving that sites like tumblr or twitter currently fulfill (badly) of like. throwing your thoughts into the void. not necesarily looking for a discussion but like. idk. its like if you wrote in a journal and then turned the pages into paper airplanes and threw them out your window.

(actually i remember in the 10s there was this site... i forget what it was called but it was like an anonymous "email" sort of service but your emails just went to random other users? literally shouting into the void, knowing someone will hear but can not respond because its all anonymous. idk it was neat)

but yeah. sorry. this is disjointed im really just thinking out loud. i just miss personal sites and fansites and forums and chatboxes and IRC chats..... i miss the way we used to use the internet, the way we used to share things with each other....

as far as RSS and feeds go i dont think its really all that comparable to the endless scrolling hell we have on modern social media sites, but i DO think it might scratch the same brain-itch while being less destructive. its hard to doomscroll if your "feed" is literally just "new articles posted by your friends on their personal websites" instead of like, "10000 reblogs and 1000000 random things the algorithm has decided to show you", yknow? its like. home grown organic media. idk

[rantingofasmallorganism]

March 13th: Oversleeping and Dreaming

Dear endless void that is the internet, It’s me again!

I know, I know, long time no see. But its been busy. Between work, spring break, and school. There has been chaos that has kept me from my pen and ink. More link my screen and keys but you get the idea.

Today I over slept. A lot. I had a class at 9 in the morning and was going to my siblings “Field Day” at 11-3. I was going to do homework afterwards until my next class at 5. 

What happened instead? I woke up at 12, made it to field day at 1, had lunch at like 3:30 with my best friend and got to my last class a few minutes late. 

The fucked up part was I was dreaming that I was going about my day. I was so convinced that I was in class and doing my work that when I woke up at home I was so confused. Now I’m in my last and right now only class of the day where I am being given an assignment to do a press release on myself. Which sounds fun so I’m gonna do some manifesting. Since it doesn’t have to be a real one and we could have fun with the assignment, I’m going to make it as if I became an EGOT winner while completing medical school. 

Is it stupid?

Yes.

Do I want to actually be me?

Also yes.

Also my ADHD has been a raging fucking bitch. I haven’t been able to focus on shit and with the Adderall shortage I have to be cautious with my stock. I can’t clean and the little I do slips back into a fucking mess. Same thing with homework. I can’t get stuff done. It sucks cause I don’t know when this shortage is going to end and I don’t know if I TRULY need my meds. Meanwhile my entire life is spiraling into the mess it was two years ago. Room: A mess, Work: Undone, Hotel: Trivago. 

Im gonna make this Saturday (whole day off) wake up early pop an addy and just clean my room (throw out trash, put away laundry, clean the clutter) and my desk. Once my room is cleaned, swept, and mopped, I will work on the kitchen and just put away and clean dishes and clean out the island and counter tops. I’ve heard playing the Mario racing music helps with cleaning so I just might do that. 

Once thats all done, I will prep for the next week and make sure that everything that needs to be done is done a head of time. 

That’s all for now. 

Hopefully see y’all next week with an update

-your blogger.

[batbobble]

its really weird but I started measuring my life in season of voltron. because i started watching it when season 2 had just come out, when was in my senior year of college, and it’s just been such a transitiony time for me since then.

Then season 3 dropped, and I officially had a college degree, had just  finished up a two year long fellowship, and was about to leave Atlanta/america, where I had lived for four years, with no solid plans to return. Like literally season 3 came out the day of my flight, i watched it on the plane ride home to bangkok.

Season 4 came out a couple weeks after I moved to London for graduate studies, and I was miserable. I had no friends, felt lost in all my classes, and wanted to do nothing but cry and sleep. I literally met my first London friends that night, immediately after watching the last the last episode of the season. 

now that season 5 is out its so weird to think about how far I’ve come, because I actually have a life here now and it’s like settled and a real thing and i dont hate london anymore. 

By the time season 6 drops, I’ll be done with graduate coursework and in the dissertation writing process, and if it sticks to the normal schedule, season 7 will probably come out around the time I hand in my dissertation and start the next stage of my life. 

I know no one really cares about this, but its just so wild to me how much has changed in these little 3 month stints between voltron seasons... jeez the real world is coming for me fast

[mysmedrabbles]

RFA Comforting an MC with Terrible Period Pains

requested: by anonymous 

a/n: oh my god the header is a MOOD for this ask. enJOY and hAVE FUN READING THIS therES SO MUCHCOFFEEINMYSYSTEMHHHHH want to support my period-ic writing ayy see what i did there? then feel free to buy me a coffee!

warnings: aside from that terrible pun you just witnessed? n/a

-AAAAAAAARRRGHHHHHH mod alex

Jumin

-he finds you clutching your stomach, sweat beading your forehead as you move from uncomfortable position to uncomfortable position, mastering positions he’d figured only Elizabeth the III could do

-worry creases his forehead as he rushes to your side, touching your side gingerly, almost scared that you’ll crumble under his fingers, but all you do is let out a pained groan, unable to speak as the pounding in your head grows louder with each stab through your gut

- “mC aRe YoU dYiNg???” 

-through pained gesturing, he finally understands that you’re not dying, just going through a torture worse than death

-has no idea what to do, just lays down with you, holding your hand and rubbing soothing circles on your back

-as soon as you finally fall asleep, he’s calling the doctor, wanting a professionals opinion on how best to lessen your pain

-poor doctor in his mind is probably like, “you,,,could have looked this up,,, on your phone,, that you used,,, to call me,,,,,,,, at 1 IN THE MORNING”

-he feels awkward, not being able to help you with more than a hot bottle on your stomach and keeping you company, running his hands through your hair and massaging your temples as he sits with you, helping you the only way he knows how, by rambling about the stock market

-at some point you tune out what he’s saying, focusing on his voice and the comforting patterns hes tracing on your skin

-you can bet that he buys you the most expensive german chocolate, anything that you want, anything you crave will be imported right away and be on your front doorstep the next morning

-he most likely has a calendar app on his phone where he keeps approximate track of your cycle so that he’s always prepared to give you extra special attention and care

-when he goes on business trips that last longer than a week, he has a box specifically made, kind of like a care package containing but not limited to:

-the finest chocolate (10 different kinds! with a surplus of your favourite!)

-those emergency hospital crack-and-place heat packets, good to keep on your lower back and uterus 

-oranges and broccoli (though these tend to be in the fridge)

-with a small note on how much he loves you and will see you tonight on call, telling you to take care of yourself and leaving the doctors phone number in case of an emergency 

Jaehee

-she KNOWS the pain,, she K N O W S 

-im not saying that at some point your cycles start happening at the same time, but thats exactly what I’m saying (i have no idea how this happens irl but it does and?? idk its odd)

-so generally the two of you are sitting home together, laying sprawled on the couch, 4 Ibuprofen between the two of you as you watch Zen’s old musicals, watching Jaehee sleepily hum along as she holds you against her chest, stroking your hair and bringing up your hand to her mouth, kissing your knuckles as the two of you fall asleep together 

-she knows you have a harder time than her when your period rolls around, so she has a tendency to insist that you don’t stress yourself out at work, keeping you mostly behind the counter where you’re not carrying hot liquids for too long. 

-helping you out whenever she can, hugging you from behind as you struggle to stand on your feet, giving you momentary support as she takes the cup from your hands, instructing you to sit down

-no one has ever seen her so lenient with someone when it comes to work

-you log onto the server to gush about Jaehee, posting pictures of her running around at work, helping customers, “ThAtS mY wIFe Y’aLL”

-she has a special coffee brew that she only breaks out when you’re in severe pain, added her secret ingredient (which she refuses to tell you about) that somehow make everything better 

-practically begging her to judo kick you in the spine because goddamnit it hurts so bad (she doesn't, opting for a soothing massage instead)

-kisses and cuddles galore, she puts the care in “caring for you,” to the point where she doesn't complain about her own mediocre periods upon seeing just how bad the pain is with you (please take care of her anyways she deserves the best)

Yoosung

-listen,, this boy grew up with sisters and a mother, he’s practically a pro when it comes to helping you out

-the second he sees you rush into the restroom in a panic, he’s already getting the pill bottle and hot bottle out, doing the bed the way you like it and pulling out your favourite blanket and warm stuffed animal 

-insists to take care of you the whole time, and is willing to skip school to stay home with you,, its only after threatening him from the bed, wagging your finger weakly at him does he actually go, however he’s one to send you worrying text messages through the whole day, and silly photos of a leaf he saw or a funny cat meme

-he cooks for you like theres no tomorrow, and is always extremely apologetic when he gets home an hour later than normal due to grocery shopping, only to find you having finally fallen asleep, stuffed animal discarded neatly on the bedside table, hugging his pillow instead

-his eyes soften, heartrate slowing down as he gazes on your sleeping form

-trying his best not to disturb you, he tiptoes out of the room, getting your favourite dinner ready, and trying his best to make something with your preferred chocolate

-you hobble out of the room sleepily, the smell of food drawing you to the kitchen

-he’ll immediately drop everything, running to you as he helps you to a chair, chiding you for getting up and straining yourself when you could have just called for him

-playing video games together lazily, him joking that he should let you win, but this just drives you to beat his ass in mariokart, absolutely demolishing him with no mercy

-he sits there shell shocked as you sit next to him grinning 

Seven 

-he’s versed in over five languages, survived the worst years of his life, is number one in the Shooting Star Server, the best hacker on the planet, and yet he has no preparation on how to help you through periods

-he knows the basics, but seeing you in such pain makes him rethink everything he thought he knew

-he sees you constantly shifting, arching your back in a vain attempt to crack it, crack any bone for momentary relief, and decides this is his time to shine and help you somewhat

-he gives the best back massages, working the pressure points on your lower back, and getting out all the knots in your shoulders, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades as he goes along, fingers working on the entirety of your back.

-shares his Honey Buddha Chips with you, even letting you take three or more bags, as long as you promise to not waste any that is.

-keeps you away from spicy foods, dairy and phD pepper, his technical knowledge had gotten him that far at least, and even though you’re more than happy to eat junk food for a week straight, for the first time ever he insists on eating better, giving you foods such as salmon and oranges,, only after heavy persuasion and multiple times of you threatening him does he let you have chocolate 

-he stays with you the whole time, making sure you’re laughing and taking care of yourself, trying his best to ease the pain with terrible terrible jokes and horrible Saeran impressions

-he knows that you dont like having a heating pad on your stomach because its so weird barely being able to move and having to stay in one place, so he places his laptop on your stomach, letting it overheat on your pelvic area as the two of you play fireboy and watergirl

Zen

-before we start i just wanna say Zen is 100% the type of guy who would hold no disgust or immature “ew thats icky”type attitude to the thought of buying his s/o menstrual products and he looks down on any man that does have that attitude

-he’s not quite versed in how to help you, but he’s a fast learner, and would rather rely on your own reactions to his help and seeing what works for you as opposed to just asking the void that is the internet what is supposed to help

-he’s one to carry you everywhere while you’re on your period, not letting you strain yourself for fear you’ll get off balance, fall and hurt yourself, and he’s constantly referencing you as his prince(ss), even more than usual

-singing you to sleep, letting his melodious voice wash over you as he holds you close, letting his natural body warmth keep you warm

-strokes your hair as you lay down, exhausted from all the pain, your body physically not able to stay awake anymore, practically blacking out

-if you cry, he’ll hold you, massaging your back and whispering soft comforts in your ear, but inside he’s pained by the distress this is causing you, and is mainly frustrated that he can’t do more

-sometimes he wakes up early in the morning to go for a jog or get breakfast for the two of you, and he’ll leave multiple sticky notes with sweet messages, ensuring that he’ll be back soon and to take it easy until he’s back home

-this man with Refuse to let you strain yourself in Any way, and will drop Everything to run over if he sees you so much as bending over to pick up something, practically throwing himself over the dropped item and insisting to pick it up for you

[xonxsm]

pastel || bnha x male! reader

---》three《---

where [m/n] and friends battle against buff ugly lookin doods, and [m/n] finds a (possible) new power.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

[m/n] sighed contently as he sat back into his seat comfortably, making sure to keep a distance from the ice prince sitting next to him. he turned the brightness of his phone darker as he tuned out the voices of his classmates, searching up collar designs.

i want it, i get it. ooh, this one looks nice- nevermind. weird having the 'thot' word printed on my collar-

wow, how did i end up with bdsm pics when i searched for dog collars? damn people be putting weird things on the internet-

meanwhile, todoroki was sweating, lightly blushing and nervously shuffling in his seat after seeing the nudes and collars on [m/n]'s phone. didn't know he was into that shi-  kinky though, maybe we can hookup or somethin-

and they had a one night stand. the end.

jk, todoroki saw nothing.

[m/n] came across an [f/c] collar that claimed to be both fireproof and waterproof, and not easily breakable. it was plain, but it came with accessories and some decorating kit. eh, i'll probably be too lazy to alter anything about it-

he pressed the add to cart button anyways. no harm, hehe- i can always buy another one if i don't like it-

quickly paying for the collar, he shut his phone off as he quietly listened in to his classmates' conversation.

"in terms of flashy quirks- i'd say bakugou's and todoroki's, no?"

toedowroeki? bakoogoe? who?

"but with bakugou's personality i don't think he will be that popular, if you know what i mean." a girl said with a finger on her mouth.

oh- bakugo = boomboom boy! can't believe i forgot. (-w-) bakuboom boom yes. but who is this toedoroekie guy?

"bitch, you wanna fight?" bakuboom stood up quickly with an irk mark, clenching his fists.

"see?"

（o。o）he's gonna blow up the whole bus and we're all gon die if he gets any angrier- looking over to the bi-coloured haired boy he deadpanned. how is he sleeping through all this shouting and such-

"we've barely known each other for a week but we can already tell your personality is worse than trash drenched in dog shit. that says something, no?" just as bakugou was about to throw another insult back at kaminari aizawa shushed them, informing that they were about to arrive.

getting off the bus they were greeted by thirteen, another pro hero. [m/n] looked around confused to where all might was, but shrugged it off as he listened to thirteen's speech about usj and the importance of rescue. they followed thirteen inside, with an excited kirishima marvelling about the huge place and thirteen proudly saying about how they had every rescue situation they could think of.

the lights flickered and the exit door shut once thirteen stopped talking. [m/n] quickly hid behind a certain buff dude with a bunch of arms, his tail and ears slightly shaking. confused muttering filled the small group. flashes of some dark void thingy had chills run up [m/n]'s spine. a dark mist started forming and that triggered [m/n]'s animal instincts- he got on all fours as [h/c] hair started growing on his arms, his hands mutating to form paws and claws. weird looking people started emerging from the mist and he slightly growled, feeling a little self-conscious of the weird glances his classmates gave him.

what? c'mon, don't tell me you haven't seen or heard a dog growl before in your whole life-

"students, stay back. thirteen, protect everyone!" aizawa ordered. [m/n] was itching to run up there and start slashing but for the sake of his teacher he stepped back, sitting on the floor. like a normal person.

"we've come to finally defeat all might." a man with blue hair and creepy red eyes stated quietly as he scratched at his nape.

forcing himself to run with his classmates he didn't dare look behind to the creepy look and aura the light blue-haired man gave off; and suddenly there was darkness.

then light. [m/n] opened his eyes to see a white room, with a grey desk and bookshelf; along with a few dying flowers scattered around. he felt sad looking at the flowers, and was about to pick one up before a voice interrupted. "lmaoz wat." getting on all fours again he was about to growl, but instead let out a burp.

"E-" lunging himself at the weird voice he scratched at the dude's face while trying to bite his neck. successfully doing that he latched himself on there as he analysed the weird man. emo haircut. wow, this dude do kinda look like a pig tho- with those nostrils-

pig-man ripped [m/n] off from his neck, with his teeth pulling a chunk with him as he slammed onto the ground, spitting out the disgusting raw neck meat. the man pulled out a gun, randomly firing at [m/n] as the hybrid dodged, jumping around, his ears picking up on the man's footsteps and the bullet's location as he tried to find an exit. finally locating an open window he jumped out of there, clearly not thinking of his actions. quickly regretting as he saw how fast he was falling from such a height.

"ZCREEEENSDNFKSDNFSKDN-" somehow, his tail latched onto a random pole and he flung himself forward, also smacking his face into a random dude's crotch while doing so. "OWIE!" he landed on his butt with a thud, holding his nose in pain as the dude knelt in pain, holding his crotch. another thud was heard, accompanied by a small "wheeeey."

he looked behind, spotting a two girls- one with long earlobes and the other with a revealing outfit, while a blonde was on the ground making weird "weee" noises. [m/n] let out a nervous chuckle as he felt himself being picked up by the ears, scratching around, hating the feeling of being held in the air. his ears hurt- it felt like they were being ripped from his head. he hissed waving his tail and claws around. he heard the man groan as his tail smacked him in the face.

a knife was pressed to his neck and he froze, his eyes wide. i regret my life. i regret applying to yuuei. IM GON' DIE RIGHT AAA-

"you move, this kid is going down." villain guy said calmly. if [m/n] moved forwards, his neck will be sliced. but if he moved backwards-

but then my ears might not be able to handle all the pressure... [m/n] whimpered, his scalp starting to bleed. ah, fuck it. i'm gonna die anyways, either from my ears or the knife.

he harshly yanked his head backwards, his head knocking onto the villain's nose harshly. with a gasp his ears was released and [m/n] dropped to the floor, his hands automatically reaching up to touch his ears; hissing when a sharp pain travelled through his body as he touched the tip of them.

he was quickly shoved out of the way as kaminari rushed up to the villain, releasing more electricity as he screeched, the villain getting singed. they all zoomed out of there, [m/n] throwing all of them onto his back as he morphed himself into a wolf, carrying them back near where the exit was.

<<>><<>><<>>

he collapsed onto the ground, his head aching after the three got off his back. a weird bird like creature was slamming aizawa's head onto the ground. he could faintly make out the outline of someone reaching for a girl in the waters but his vision was too blurry for him to see who. "you really are cool... eraserhead." [m/n] watched as the head of his teacher was slammed back onto the ground again, his vision clearing up. and being the guard dog he is-

he got up, speed-ran to the bird creature and head-butted right into its stomach. full speed. the nomu was knocked off aizawa but besides that no damage was dealt. he was picked up the second time by his ears- and thrown off into the distance.

wincing he got back up, ignoring his teacher's calls for him to back up and "sit the fuck down and rest" as he rammed right into the nomu again, this time higher into his chest. he somehow managed to land a hit near where the nomu's brain is with his tail before he was slammed onto the ground near where aizawa was. he laid still as the nomu went up to where shigaraki was and began attacking the other students.

aizawa was fading in and out of consciousness- as [m/n] could tell from his decayed arm and the blood on his face. he wasn't doing any better, but aizawa looked as if he was more hurt than [m/n] ever will be.

lol, i mean i wasn't the one to get my skin ripped off my arm with it decaying and my head slammed full force into the ground that it would cause a huge dent- looking back to where he laid, a huge dent was formed under him. never frikkin mind.

i wonder if there's any way i could transfer sensei's pain to myself. that's part of moma's quirk, right? my quirk and hers is quite similar, except that she's a full wolf instead of being part bunny and wolf like i am. [m/n] sighed, thinking about his family. they probably wouldn't even care if i died, lmao.

remembering his mother telling his brother about her quirk he copied what she had said- lifting a finger to touch aizawa's skin and focusing on the image of what he envisions the "pain" as coming out of aizawa's body and into his. he could hear his teacher grumble out questions on why his student was poking his hand and he removed his hand, sighing and realising it probably  didn't work until a sudden pain in his head caused a static-like noise filled his head and he passed out from the pain, his ears and tail falling limp by his side.

aizawa could feel the pain from his head lessen. he had questions, but frankly, his jaw was too hurt for him to even move it. he looked down slightly, seeing the passed out new kid and he sighed, his sight darkening as he felt himself getting picked up and carried.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

word count: 1780

this part was probably the hardest to write and the plot probably makes no sense lmao-

i already forgot like most of the usj parts and i had to rewatch the whole thing like thirty times more to write this chapter and now my eyes hurt from sitting in front of the computer for so long.

yeet i have decided that i will write a chapter every two or three days- ya know to keep my memory of the storyline in check and at the same time letting myself rest for a day.

see y'alls next time :>

[kazekohitori]

This is a four part fanfic I wrote for myself and my friends to help deal with the pain of the end of Castiel and Supernatural.

Please read CastielXStacie Chapters One and Two, CastielXAllanah Part One, and CastielXStevie before continuing.

CastielXAllanah Part Two

Allanah took Castiel back to her house where she thought they could better analyze the situation. She explained along the way that, in this world, Castiel was a character in a tv show played by beloved actor Misha Collins. Sam and Dean were played by two Texans who, after portraying brothers for so long, were very much like brothers in real life. The creator of the show, Eric Kripke, had left after season five and that was why the writing had taken a turn for the worse. Castiel listened intently, everything she said had all happened to him in the exact same way. Could the writers of this show be prophets? He didn’t recognize the names as such but maybe in this universe there was a different list of prophets inscribed into the angels minds.

And what of the angels? Were there angels here? Allanah said she had never seen one but couldn’t in good conscience exclude their existence. There had been no angel radio communications; in fact Castiel’s angel senses could not pick up any vibrations of the supernatural. No angels. No demons. No witchcraft or magic. This world seemed to be void of them. That, or his senses weren’t functioning properly.

Castiel had sat at Allanah’s computer the rest of the afternoon and evening reading news articles looking for signs of abnormalities that could be tied to his arrival here. He had found nothing. Deciding instead to focus on what was in front of him he looked into the show following his recent experiences. He had been interested in the love Misha Collins’ fans had for him and all the good Misha had triggered in this world. Allanah had gushed about what she knew of Misha and how kind he was, stating that was one of the reasons she loved the character Castiel. Not only did Misha portray a memorable angel, he was practically an angel himself.

Allanah went about her evening rituals while the angel did “research”. She finished her chores about the house, played with Emma, made dinner for them, put Emma to bed, and did the dishes all while Castiel sat hunched over the computer.

After her evening routine was complete she approached Castiel with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “You drink?”

Studying her he sat back, “I- uh... sure.”

Setting a glass down next to him she poured a glass for him, then one for herself. Holding her glass up to his when he took it, she said, “To new friendships.”

A small smile crept to his lips as he watched her take a sip and then followed suit. He only tasted molecules but it wasn’t unpleasant. He had learned with each “tasting” of human consumables he could discern the different molecular structures and, in a sense, taste. He liked sweet foods such as cereal and chocolate candy bars but the love he once had for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches was gone. This wine, to him, had semi-sweet undertones, like chocolate, with a hint of grape jelly. With each sip it started to grow on him.

Allanah went to sit on the couch in front of the tv where he joined her. “Shall we watch something?”

He gave a small nod, “if you want.”

She flipped through her tv’s menu for something he might enjoy, “anything in particular?”

He watched her take a sip of wine. Her lips pressing to the glass as the red liquid flowed in and over her tongue, her throat muscles bobbed with the swallowing action. Her neck had a graceful length and dip to it. And the way she held her head, as though some invisible crown lay upon it. “A queen of her domain,” Castiel mused, “not one easily trifled with.” And yet she had allowed him, what he considered himself to be, a stranger, into the bosom of her home. There was an easiness about her. She didn’t make him feel as if he were a stranger. She had welcomed him home, offered him a room to stay, with it’s own tv, access to a computer and the internet, and some spare clothes (apparently from an old boyfriend) for him should he wish to change, all without asking anything in return or expecting anything of him until he could ascertain the situation he now found himself in. Her kindness, he thought, was not found in every human. She was part of the rarer breed.

Allanah side-eyed him, “Hello? Any preference?”

Castiel withdrew his attention from her, focusing instead on his glass as he brought it up for another sip. “No. What ever you wish is fine.”

She opted for Criminal Minds and settled herself in for a riveting episode. However, shortly therein she felt his eyes upon her again. The angel on the show had a habit of awkwardness and staring. She had always considered this endearing. Now that she was on the opposite end of it she wasn’t so sure. Being so heavily scrutinized she couldn’t enjoy the show. She was tempted to snap at him but knew that would be detrimental to their budding friendship or, hopefully, she thought, romantic relationship.

She glanced at him, taking in his relaxed form sitting beside her on the couch. Would he ever take that trench coat off? It hindered her view of what lay beneath. She imagined his muscular arms around her, caging her to a wall as he pressed up against her, kissing her deeply then turning his mouth to her neck. She would pull his shirt from his belt and hastily unbutton it, pressing her lips to his when he lifted his head. She would then work on his belt to free his manhood from the confines of his trousers and squeeze his tight ass as she ripped his boxers from his legs. She imagined herself dropping before him and licking- Oh GOD! Could he hear her thoughts? Like in the show? Oh, Fuck! What had she done!

Her face turned a bright red as he watched her. Perhaps he was staring too much. He refocused his attention to the tv show. He wasn’t interested in it at all. What he really wanted to do was snuggle into her. To bathe in that warmth she had so freely given him on the street. To indulge in the scent of her and, if she’d allow it, to taste her wine soaked kiss.

“Mama?” A small voice from the bedroom roused both of them from their thoughts. Allanah left to check on her daughter while Castiel downed the half glass of wine he had left. Returning with Emma in tow, Emma ran to Castiel and jumped up on his lap while Allanah went to the kitchen to get Emma’s sippy cup. Emma started playing with Cas’ face, which he, surpringly, let her. He held her loosely to keep her from falling and smiled contentedly at her. Emma giggled and smooshed his cheeks together giving him “fish lips” and giggling louder when he moved them as such. She pulled at his ear as she readjusted herself on his lap, when he pulled away she reached for his nose instead. Again he pulled away but still smiled. She bopped him on the nose and he acted as though she had given him a knockout punch, throwing his head back and crying out in pain. Then he looked back at her and smiled. She did it again, and he again obliged.

Allanah returned having watched their game from the kitchen, “Emma, be nice,” a motherly tone in her voice. Emma giggled before taking the sippy cup and settling herself into Castiel’s lap, laying her head on his chest. If Allanah was ever jealous of her daughter this was it. Being a child, Emma could do things like climb into strangers laps and no one would bat an eye, but if Allanah did that she was sure to get some strange looks. “The innocence of youth...” she thought.

Allanah reached for Emma, “Sorry about that. C’mon Em.”

Emma moaned her disapproval, digging herself farther into Cas’ embrace, throwing her small arms around his chest and burying her face away from her mother.

“It’s okay,” Castiel stopped Allanah’s attempts to collect Emma. He folded his arms around her, cradling her to him.

Now Allanah really was jealous. But instead of saying anything she simply pouted her lips, poured herself some more wine, and watched the tv.

Several hours passed with the three of them on the couch. Emma had fallen asleep in Cas’ lap but every time Allanah tried to remove her she would wake and make a fuss. Castiel did not complain, instead reassuring Allanah he enjoyed having the small life on his lap. Allanah herself had started to become sleepy and considered feigning nodding off on Cas’ inviting shoulder.

Suddenly Allanah’s phone started going off with messenger notifications. She went to the kitchen to retrieve it and see what was going on. Stevie was sending messages one after another.

Stevie: YOU GUYS!

Stevie: OMG

Stevie: YOU GUYS!!!

Stevie: HES REAL

Stevie: IM LOOKING RIGHT AT HIM!

Stevie: HES HERE IN MY HOUSE!!

Stevie: HES REAL

Stevie: YOU GUYS!!!!

Stevie: AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

Allanah was the first to respond.

Allanah: What do you mean? Who?

Stevie: CASTIEL! HE’S HERE IN MY KITCHEN!

Allanah: How

Stevie: Idk but he is! We just kissed!

Stevie: I thought he was a dream but

Stevie: HE’S FUCKING REAL!!!

Allanah typed back.

Allanah: I know he is. I’m looking at him right now.

Stevie: What?

Allanah: He is on my couch with Emma.

Allanah: How is he with you?

Stevie: There’s two of them?!

Before Allanah could respond Christina chimed in.

Christina: Make that three

[flairrstarling]

its weird bc i just tried to tell this edgelord to shut up and find a therapist instead of crying ‘im broken’ and now im here being edgy on tumblr bc i have no friends and id be troubling the school counselor to talk about something so insignificant, she isnt paid to be dealing with my shit anyways. so here i am, typing out this weird..thing in the school computer lab. its oddly therapeutic to do this, i normally never write anything unless its actual writings or posts that i kind of sort of really want to get popular. and now im super glad that anything untagged on tumblr is virtually invisible to anyone i can just throw this into the internet void and ill know it wont ever come back to me.

[bmpmp3]

Lemme just say: I adore your style and you're an inspiration to start drawing more. Your art was the first thing I found when looking for Ikesen fanart. I love your OCs and HCs and ramblings. I want to try drawing with more traditional tools - what alcohol based markers do you use? Thanks for existing!

criES ThaNK

agahsgshsddshs i always throw my ikesen nonsense into the internet void and promptly forget about 80% of it so I didnt realize that I’d become big enough to be found fairly easily qwq sobs that makes me really happy~

good luck with traditional art, my guy! i use the prismacolour markers, specifically these ones here, a pack of three black markers (i havent really found a use for them tho lol) and 9 levels of warm gray, but i had gotten the pack from one of those sites that sell misprints and mistakes and surplus for cheap so it was only 16 bucks instead of like 70 qwq (the colours on the makers are labelled wrong so thats why i got it so discounted)

honestly i dont think i’d recommend them for full price, if you manage to find some discounted i think theyre solid but theres better markers out there in the same price range or somtimes cheaper~

i also have three (3) copics lol (cool gray 3, 5,and 7) and while i havent used them in a long time ‘cause i need to buy more ink and replacement nibs, i’d honestly recommend copics over prismacolour brushmarkers if we’re going by their normal prices ‘cause of the advantages of copics

functionally they feel the same to me, they’re about the same price (i think the sketch markers are more expensive than the brushmarkers? i dunno i only have ciaos sorry qwq), copics barely smell in comparison to the brushmakers (i got used to the smell but it is kinda strong oof especially when you first buy them), plus the copics are refillable and have replacement nibs, I dont think the brushmakers got either which sucks

but yeah i dunno im mainly using the brushmarkers ‘cause i got em for so cheap so i would recommend them for 12 for 16 bucks but i don’t think id recommend them for their normal copic-level prices

those are the only types of alcohol markers ive personally tried (theyre all gray lol i just love me some grayscale gomen) but sometime i think i wanna invest in some colours someday, maybe ill try out some other cheaper brands some time~

edit: also btw im in canada im not sure if brushmarkers are cheaper than copics elsewhere? they’re the same price here oofeverything in canada is too expensive and im dying scoob

[abtoddler]

A little melancholia for the day

It’s interesting how far we come and sometimes

Its no where near far enough. When i was younger, I couldn’t tolerate my mother. When shes oh hey, im goin to be a bitch for days, then expect me to talk to her. Its already bad enough shes super dismissive or hateful, and then super concerned so she can ear another tick in her caretaker personality.

Which explains why i need a daddy so much. I al thankful to mine, and my big bro champ, the two of them create a world where i dont have to worry about what occurs outside the front door. - a bit of backstory, and the strings of complaints, spoonie comments, support groups and things like that: i have a chronic pain condition with compression and the slow approach to parapalegia while on the medication, the norco and muscle relaxers to help the sensation of walking on nails, and endless buzz, this is a gift from 14 years ago, that keeps taking the feeling and control of my legs & feet. I also have an inflamatory bowel disease, so its like shitting hot lava. This has been occuring more regular then a ladies period, and has been occuring since longer then I can remember.

Growing up, i would throw up while shitting at the same time for hours ans hours. Get up in the middle of the night and just let it go. Ive turned memory of this shit to another thought. Right now its about how much time i have left, 20 years? That wouls make me 54, if i go out then, or even in the next 35 years wouls make me younger then my adoptive parents.

Now heres a funny thing, since my dad doesnt really keep up with me, mostly my fault because i hate talkin on the phone, and cant exactly travel at the moment. The point is, “oh you still have to go through that, i hadnt heard so i assumed it went away”, its not that” oh i assumed you just stopped having a horrible mutiple times a month for my entire life stomach pain, just stops, because nothing is said about it. Or the trying to convey that i just do not have the means to emotionally handle it, and so cant make effort to do stuff that hurts my heart. The same is whether or not my mother means it. But shes always been cunty when shes not put first, or in control. It’s interesting she abused drugs and alcohol when i moved into my own house the first time. Then the abuse from her starts, getting mad, being dismissive, just down right fucking horrible for no good goddamn reason.

This then causes me to have an emotional shut down, this abuseive crap, this shit makes me not want to be around her. She cant “do” being alone, and it makes her really mean. The more mean she gets, the more i have no desire to fuck with that. The endless complaints, rudeness, snide comments, endless streams of just foulness. Thank you to everyone whose not like this, is what i want to say. Thank you to daddy and champ. Those who “choose” us, and so help up the folk like me who have all sorts of shit to deal with. Its nice having an insulation.

I do not want contact with people who are sneaky and will put someone else under a bus, i do not want folks who do not give more then lip service to”bdsm full exchange” and “demands” that put them ahead of what they want to do with my daddy. Theres so much in this life that i wont be able to do. I have less then most folk i wager. Going by the wayside, posting to the empty vaccum where the internet remembers.

I can do this. I can do one day at a time forever, one moment, that is an endless cycle of sleep. And meds, and pains. The reason i can do this. Family. Good people raised me, but im home for the first time with these last 6 months, 50 or 60 years ahead of me is not enough time for my daddy, for my big bro. There is a ton of the world to see.

These are the thoughts, and feelings ive had since loosing my hope on handling something just a bit better. Its been super dark, with looking at end of life affairs, looking into kinds of burials, and assisted suicide. Everything that would mean i miss everything i want with my family. I do not mind a death I choose. I do not mind my final wishes. What i mind; the knowledge of folks with my kinds of stomach shit dont really see much longer to the older age brackets. It scares the piss out of me, that it could just be done, i wont be able to wake up and work on my grimoires, i wont be able to tell my daddy I love him. Anytime i feel it, i have to say it. That way in all the tiny moments of time, and if folks can remember me. He will know i would always love him, thank him, appreciate him. He is the scope of my world. Anything less then forever is an unacceptable amount of time. The thought of leaving him early scares me. Its my greatest worry, that i will never know enough, or see enough of his life to only see it really start.

Its hard, it sucks. So thats why my grimoire projects will not, end. My desire to be little, and safe and cared for, must be followed right back into daddies arms, and the worlds hes helped build. I ve been trying to process this, its taken a few months, in suspected truth, probably it will be always there. But, i try and focus on projects, on the little things that can be done in a day. I cant care about my mother demanding i go and see her. Or her being a bitch when i do, and leaving her with a “see you whenever” i said “what ever” and just walked out of her apartment the other night.

So, while she feels i should be doing what ever she asks depite my lack or to too much sleep according to her. Not the exhaustion i get subjected to after the fire of hell erupts from my asshole, and causes me to throw up anything left in my stomach. Yea, between that 1-4 hour production of “this is your life” in food I attempted to eat earlier. Shes got stupid questions that have no bearing on day to day shit, and now that shes done fucking making threats at me, she can shut up, while I sort out how to handle her ass, while being with wonderful people, for what will be the rest of my life. However long i can make it. Daddy, makes it worth it, i want to see him and champ be their best selves. I can instead only do everything that i am able to set their roads up, even if i wont get the chance to see how it ends.

I cry, at night, most nights pooh bear has earned his keep as the cuddle surrogate to daddy. My barking dragon doesnt bark, it would randomly do it; making it hard to sleep with. I know that this internet void, is a public place where people will know, coo!. But I need to post this, i need to put it into the world while I think about how i am going to master the coming years, and not let shit get between daddy and champ and all our dreams.

So, while i get word vomity, and sad. The horizon has this light of the future, the single moment of now, stretching on to the morning. The linear path of all actions, thoughts, life and the experiences, its easy when in thinking of daddy, that i can just aim to make the most of the moments with him. That they know he is the best man i have ever known, the range of his character. His way of dominance, his love and zest for life. The way he steps one foot a time to get the big picture. I will walk with him til my story ends. But, daddy i love you, and thank you. I loves that we have forever and ever. Its not long enough.

But anyway this isnt something i can stop thinking, so my hope is putting just this stuff here, will get it out, and lets me sleep tonight. I am trying to post more, to have a place to unload my thoughts. Thank you for anyone who reads this, its just hard to identify the situation at hand, so many moving pieces. I will try not to post to much of this philosophic ramble, and depression.

I will figure on how to deal with it but tonight, it did it’s job and has cleared my head, and given me a look at what i feel is going on. Night tumblr. Thank you for this medium.

[choisgirls]

Could you write a scenario where RFA + V and Saeran decided to prank MC (because it’s haLLOWEN) by scaring her while she was wandering around 707’s bunker? Sorry for disturbing you. ^^"

A/N: You aren’tdisturbing me, love!!! hhmm im gonna do my best here! ^^ I’m gonna mix it upand do a fic for this because can you imagine all of them trying to do it ~atonce~

Words: 3,830

Pairings: None!

Theme: RFSpook!

Warnings: Um, slight gore mentions? But it’s all costumes, I swear! But it’s here as a warning!

Under a cut due to length!

Masterlist~

Of course Saeyoungwanted to have a personal party at his bunker, and of course he had to go allout and completely decorate it for Halloween. I’m talking the dark ambiance,the skeletons, the spider webs you were positive were real and probably droveVanderwood crazy- you were positive he even had his bunker renovated solely forthis party. You don’t remember him having a literaltrap door in front of his door before- password yes, trap door no.

When you arrived tothe front door, you knew better than to stand right in front of it. That doorin the floor was not subtle, not even in the slightest. You rang the bell andhoped he would hear it, considering you could hear his Spooky Mix Soundtrack, Tape 7 (you knew that was its name becausethat’s all he would mention in the group chat for weeks) blaring throughsurround sound speakers. The door seemed to creak open enough to show it haddone it on its own. You sighed, knowing that agreeing to this “party”was already a mistake. You pushed the door open all the way, peeking in andcalling out for Saeyoung. When there wasn’t an answer, you stepped in andclosed the door behind you. You debated turning around and leaving, honestly.

The inside of hisbunker looked nothing like it normally did. It looked like a completely newhouse. You thought he only decorated intensely outside- you were wrong. Youstood in the entryway, taking in the scene before you. The music switched tosomething ominous and a terrifyingly echo of a laugh traveled through thehouse. Saeyoung, what the fuck?

And with that, thescreen turned black and retracted back into the ceiling. You blinked inconfusion and shook your head in annoyance. ‘Why? Why can’t we have a nice,normal get together?’ You thought to yourself. You loved them all and normallyhad fun, but you weren’t the type to scare easily. Not to mention, you wereready from some treats, not this trick.

You moved forward,walking down a hall lined with old portraits. The eyes followed you as youwalked- but you paid them no mind. You figured it was Saeyoung attempting tohide his cameras to watch you. How long was this hallway? You’ve been walkingfor around 5 minutes, this is way too long. You stop and watch as you movebackwards without your feet lifting. You look down to find the floor had beenturned into a moving walkway. You give an unamused look to the closest paintingbefore taking large steps to make it to the end, jumping off of the walkway toventure on.

The room beyond thehallway held nothing but a large standing mirror in the middle of it and a dooropposite the one you came in from. You looked around, turning quickly when thedoor slammed shut behind you. Why would there just randomly be a mirror inhere? What kind of joke was this? Looking behind it, you see nothing and noone. After a few minutes of trying to open either door and trying to find anysort of clue on how to get out, you stand in front of this mirror.

You check out youroutfit- should you have worn a better costume? Did you make it too simple? Yourmundane thoughts were cut short when you start to notice the room filling withfog. The once clear image of yourself was quickly becoming a blur as the mirrorfogged up as well. Suddenly, a hand smacked from the other side of the mirror,dragging down to leave behind streaks- you watched as it fogged back up. ‘Isthat it?’ you thought to yourself, ‘Is it really just some weird projectionscreen? Do they think fog is gonna scare me?’ Words started to scribble out onthe mirror, you read them each out loud as they showed up.

“'Hello, MC. I’mwatching.. you… Would you… like to see… me? Just.. close your eyes.. andstep.. through.. I won’t.. bite…’ Wait- I know that handwriting,” yourealized, shooting a disgruntled look behind the mirror quickly to watch acertain small, blonde boy in a creepy, bloody monster costume jump and squealat your movement.

“MC! You weresupposed to be scared, not scare me!” he whined, “Were you even alittle afraid?” When you shook your head, he threw his hands up inexasperation before dropping them to cross his arms and curl his lip into apout. “That isn’t fair. I looked on the internet for weeks on how do this!I had to ask Saeyoung for help! ….Really, not even a little bit?” Youoffered him a sympathy shrug and had to pat the back of his head gently when hethrew his forehead against your shoulder to pout and cry a little about. Youheard mumbles of 'I’m a man’ and 'I can be scary too’. He sent you on your waythrough the door to move on to the next room. You had to give it to Saeyoung,he went all out in renovating just for this haunted house.

The next room was setup like an old school library- books lined the walls, floor to ceiling. A deskwith a large, cushion chair pushed towards the side of the room. Like theprevious room, the door slammed shut and you assumed it was already locked. Youlooked around, watching for the next so called 'scare’ so you could move on.The lights started to flicker and shut off. The window to the room screeched asthe wind and rain pounded against it. Lightning illuminated the room for meremoments, you knew how this was going to play out, so you stand and wait untilyou see a large, dark figure in front of you. With each crack of light, thefigure came closer and closer, until it was right in front of you and threwtheir arms open, revealing themselves from under their cape, letting out aloud, deep “boo”.

With the flick of yourwrist, you turn on your phone flashlight and find yourself face to face with acertain Jumin Han, with his tongue out between his face vampire fangs, lookingas unamused as you did.

“I will, uh, suckyour blood, MC. Bleh bleh bleh.” he said, bringing his hands up to make aslight 'rawr’ action. You stared at him, dead in the eye, face void of allemotion. He gave a soft shrug before standing up straight. “I made myattempt. I didn’t wish to really participate in this, but we know how Saeyoung canbe,” he elegantly produced a key from the sleeve of his shirt, offering itto you before gesturing to the large door behind him. “Feel free to keepgoing, MC. You’ve got quite a few to get through before we can have our party.I’ll make sure to keep a glass of wine just for you.”

The next room was setup like an eloquent dining room. A table dawned with a crisp white table clothand silver cloche in the middle of it, shiny and inviting. That would be whereyou’d have to go- but maybe they were tricky and did it to throw you off.

You don’t even botherwith the doors, anymore. You know you need to find the key to get out. The fasteryou’re out, the faster this party and go on, and the faster you can make ithome to eat that candy you tried convincing yourself you would share.

Looking through all ofthe napkins that lined different tables, you found nothing- you sighed. Youwere going to have to take it upon yourself to look under the cloche. Who’sroom was this? What was waiting under there?

You lifted it upquickly, already expecting something to jump out at you. Instead, you take alook at Jaehee’s head- bloody, pale, and a fountain pen right through her eye.You blinked, frowning a little bit. Reaching out, you touched a little bit ofthe blood dripping down her face.

Her hand shot out fromunder the table, grabbing onto your leg. You didn’t even flinch.

“Really, MC? Eventhat didn’t frighten you? Hmm. Was it the makeup? Was it not scaryenough?” She removed her head from the hole in the table and popped outfrom under the tablecloth. She was dressed in one of her older work suits.

“It’s hard tobelieve it when it smells like strawberry jam,” you remarked, licking offthe jam from your finger, “Dare I even ask about your costume? You’re in adining room, shouldn’t you be in more.. food related attire?”

“I have to workon paperwork after this party. I figured I’d make my costume realistic to whatmy emotions will be later on,” she answered without skipping a beat. Younodded in understanding and asked for the key to move on, which she was happyto supply if that meant she could go sit in an actual chair rather than crampedunder that table.

The next room held aring of full length mirrors- you had a feeling you knew who’s room this was.

“Zen!” youcalled, standing in the center of them, “Come here! I want to just getthis party going!” You watched as he walked up, in all 3 mirrors, tostrike a pose in his prince costume.

“MC! How did youknow it was me?” he asked, flicking his hair over his shoulder, “Wecan go to the party later! First! Let’s play~” he shot you a wink beforemoving closer to the mirrors, all four of them seemed to be looking you in theeye. “Time to play, Which is the Real Zen! Choose wisely,sweetheart~” he sang. You looked closely at all of them, stepping closerto the one in the middle- you stretched your hand out, reaching for him, whensuddenly his arm flew out of the one to your left, wrapping around your waistand pulling you through to a completely dark portion of the room. You sighedwhen the lights turned on and you found the room completely packed with fullbody, and extremely accurate, wax models of Zen. You knew he was taking theseall home at the end of the day- that is if Jaehee doesn’t get her hands on themfirst.

“I suppose I haveto come find you?” you ask loudly, hearing your voice echo- but were metwith no response. Great. This could take a little while. 'Everyone else triedto be scary,’ you thought to yourself, 'But nnooo Zen has to be overdramatic. Ijust want some pizza.’

Carefully examiningeach figure you pass by, one of them near the door catches your attention.Squinting in suspicion, you walk up to it, eyeing it up and down. You lean inclose as he jumps, throwing his hands out to grab you, yelling a loud 'boo’.You just stared at him, crossing your arms and tilting your head slightly tomatch the frown on your face.

“…MC do youhave a soul, at all. Does anything scare you? Anything?” you shook yourhead as he threw his hands up in exasperation before leading you through thenext door. With a swift bow, he closed the door behind you, leaving you in aroom decked out in children’s decor.

You have to admit toyourself that this room gave you the creeps- but only because it looked sosimilar to your own childhood bedroom… wait.. the.. the stuffed animals onthe bed, the stickers on the wall- this was completely a replica of yourchildhood bedroom. Well, isn’t that creepy. Who would recreate your bedroomjust for this stupid joke?

Out of the corner ofyour eye, the rocking chair started to move and a small shadow darted aroundbehind you. Turning towards the area where the ruckus had been, you ended upface to face with a creepy baby doll, suspended from the ceiling- it started togoo and cry, until the voice box started to die and it���s once sweet voiceturned more demonic. You frowned and yanked it off of its suspended wires,tossing it over your shoulder.

“Just come outalready! I’m so tired of all these stupid-” you started, before you werecut off by your knee giving out suddenly from a hard impact. You whipped yourhead around to find a tall figure sitting on a tiny tricycle, their face lookedporcelain and broken. A creepy, child-like laugh came from the person, as theysuddenly lunged at you, knocking you down and sitting over you. Leaning closeto your face, the creepy laugh continued as the person grabbed hold of the tearin their face, pulling down both sides. All that you could hear is a maniacallaugh, and the ripping sound of this person’s 'skin’. You could see the gluetearing and as the 'blood’ fell to your face, you could smell it was strawberryjam- Jaehee must have helped out there.

“Hi Vanderwood,”you stared completely unfazed by the scene above you. He finished taking offthe glued on mask and wiped part of his face off with his sleeve, shooting youa disapproving look.

“I spent thiswhole time trying to get the damn mask on. Do you know how sticky this is? Theglue and the jam? It’s fucking sticky, MC, this isn’t fun for me,” hespat, getting up and offering his hand to help you up. “I’m starting tothink you’re some sort of robot instead of human, we could use you in theagency,” he mused, crossing his arms and watching as you dusted yourselfoff, sneering at his offer.

“That’s probablythe scariest thing I’ve heard all day, thank you,” you held your hand outexpectantly, “give me the key and I’ll keep going so we can actually eatsomething.” With a roll of his eyes, you’ve got the key in the palm ofyour hand and you’re on your way to the next room.

This room had acomplete wall of screens, and you knew it was bound to be one of the Choitwins- now which one was it?

Deep, creepy laughtererupted from the screens, causing you to sigh for the forty seventh time today.Looking at the monitors, you’re met with the mask from earlier in the night-you definitely know which Choi it was this time.

“Saeyoung, youreally went all out for this party. I can’t believe you  spent all this time even renovating yourhouse-”

“I KNOW NOT OFTHIS 'SAEYOUNG’ YOU SPEAK ABOUT. MC, TELL ME, WILL YOU PLAY A GAME?” hecut you off, yelling into his voice changer. You crossed your arms and mutteredsome choice words under your breath before turning around to address the soundyou were hearing.

In the center of theroom, a single table rose from a secret floor compartment, dawning a clear boxwith a hole large enough to stick your arm in- the other end of the box heldthe key to the next door.

“The game issimple, MC- stick your hand inside the box, and answer a few questions. Youwin, you get the key!” he followed his explanation with a creepy, darkgiggle. You looked at the screens and raised an eyebrow, sticking your arm intothe box.

“And if Ilose?” you asked, watching him clap with glee.

“THEN YOU REALLYLOSE, AHAHAHA!” A locked clamp attached itself to your arm and your eyesfocused on the box as small saws in the side of the box activated and waited tomake their move. You frowned a little bit and turned back to him.

“Are you ready MC?No? Too bad!” he giggled, leaning close to the camera, “QUESTION ONE!We’ll keep it easy on this question- WHAT IS THE BINARY FOR 'SAEYOUNG IS THEBEST’? YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS!” You stared at the screen, spacing outcompletely- you didn’t know this. If you did, five seconds wasn’t long enoughto recite it. He imitated an annoying buzzer sound before telling you time wasup- the saws in the box moved a bit closer to your arm as you just stared atthem, wondering just how much time this boy had on his hands to make this.

“ROUND TWO, DINGDING! What part of fish-shaped bread do I eat first?” he tapped hisfingers together, expectantly. Hell- you don’t remember! Most of the time, youforget he actually eats anything else besides chips…

“The…head?” you guessed. He’s a sadist, maybe he gets pleasure from ripping offthe poor fish-bread’s head off.

“DING DONG, YOUARE WRONG!” he yelled followed by an evil giggle, “The belly, MC! Thebelly is the best! You know that!” you sighed- you did know that. Whydidn’t you guess that? The sound of the saw got louder as you watched it dropeven closer to your arm.

“ONE MORE CHANCE,MC. OR YOU’LL HAVE TO WAVE GOODBYE TO YOUR ARM! Oh, but wait, you won’t be ableto, AHAHAHA!” Your previous frown deepened- he’s enjoying himself too muchhere. “FINAL QUESTION! What, in this world, makes our very own Jumin Hananxious?” Oh! You knew this! You looked him straight in the eyes andanswered.

“Diagonals insuits,” You answered with confidence, yet he hit the error button anyway.

“YOU’RE CORRECT!But, due to the circumstances, I’m going to deny the fact that you are correct.Say goodbye to your precious hand, MC!” You turned back to the box towatch the saws drop, almost touching your skin. You didn’t even flinch. Youknew he would never actually hurt you. You turned back to the screens, raisingan eyebrow at the redhead as he removed his mask. “Aw, MC! Not even a blink?Seriously? Those are real saws!” he sighed in defeat and turned them off,allowing you to remove your arm and open the other side that held the key.“I worked so hard for all of this and you haven’t been scared once! Not atall! You’re a robot. That’s it- I’ve cracked the code!” With a roll ofyour eyes and a flick of your hand, you waved him off and ventured to the nextroom.

Taking in the decor ofthe next room- it was almost as if you were outside in an actual graveyard. Younotice a ghostly figure walk through the wall- how did they set that up?

You looked above you-a projector, of course.

Opening above groundcoffins, looking at tombstones for any tricks, you searched for the key. Youwere getting real fucking tired of these ghosts screeching and walking throughyou. You felt a tap on your shoulder and sighed.

“I don’t know howyou got the projectors to actually tap me but I’m no longer in the mood forthis shit,” you called before taking a look over your shoulder. You sawSaeran dressed as a skeleton with an annoyed look on his face that rivals yourown- he was holding out his hand to help you off of the ground where you hadsat to think things through.

“Look, I’m not inthe mood either, I just fucking want some pizza,” he said pulling you toyour feet. Yes, finally, someone agrees with you. “Just take this and beover with it, please. Saeyoung will not let us eat until you walk through thatdoor and I’m real close to fighting him.” He held his other hand out toreveal a- dare you say it- skeleton key. You took it and turned, headingtowards the door, when a hand shot out of the dirt of a grave, grabbing yourankle and yanking you to the ground hard, as it starts to try and pull youthrough the dirt itself.

You look up at Saeranwith an unfazed look marking your face, as his expression mirrors yours beforehe kicks the hand off of your leg.

“I forgot to turnthe robots off,” he gave the lame excuse as you put your hands to yourhips, mocking him with a ridiculous imitation of him.

“I forgot to turnthe robots off,” you stuck your tongue out at him before walking towardsthe door again, this time avoiding the graves between. He followed behind,mumbling something along the lines of, 'You’re lucky I just want food,’ and, 'Ishould’ve pushed you into one of those graves’. Someone was hangry, but thenagain, so were you. Please, let the food be on the other side of this door.

Throwing the dooropen, you were greeted with the scent of the pizza that has been promised,amongst various other foods. Your friends stood around the room, welcoming youto the end of the line and congratulating you on your journey. You all spent atleast half an hour eating, describing how their pranks went, and how you seemedto not be afraid of anything. Laughter erupted from your chest, waving offtheir assumptions. You opened your eyes because you felt something crawling onyour arm.

With your heartbeating out of your chest and your eyes as wide as saucers, you slowly lookdown at your arm as everyone looks with you. There, crawling slowly to yourshoulder, was a gigantic spider. You stared for a moment, trying to processyour thoughts.

A loud, shrill screambubbled out of your throat as you swat at the spider to get it off. Yourepeatedly jumped in place, shaking, doing anything you could to make sure thespider was truly off of you. You even jumped into Jumin’s arms, knowing he wasthe tallest and therefore the furthest away you could get from that evil thing.

Everyone ran away fromthe furry thing, hiding behind any object they could. There was a soft gigglefrom under the food table. You watched as a familiar head of mint hair poppedout from under the table cloth, shooting one of his award-winning smiles at allof you. He gently coaxed his eight-legged friend back into his container andstood up, laughing again.

“You guys triedso hard to scare MC.. but you should have stuck to the classics,” he said,now shoving a cookie into his mouth to hide the sly smirk that spread acrosshis face. You looked at him, amazed that Jihyun, this sweet yet devilish man,could scare you. With a spider, of all things.

The good title of the“Undefeated Scare” was ruined. You have been bested by a mint man andhis spider companion. You couldn’t believe it.

Your heart was stillracing, and you could still feel the ghost of the creatures legs running upyour body.

Well, Happy Halloweento you.

[blvckoxygenium-blog]

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[gplewis]

a few failed beginnings

Why one writes: to unload one’s neuroses without having to explain what every little thing means. it’s a place to talk without being analyzed; perhaps there’s no skin in the game or it’s post-skin somehow; it’s a vortex with comfy clothes

Luckily I’ll never be as obsessed about the perfection of these pages than I was when I was desperate for progress in those critical formative years of 26, 27, 28, 29 and 30. Yes, I’m a bit self-righteous about my age and experience now. I am a new narrator. 

“Once written, the text becomes fixed.” —Ismail Kadare https://www.theparisreview.org/interviews/1105/ismail-kadare-the-art-of-fiction-no-153-ismail-kadare

thank God I failed at fame

-

I’m an enthusiastic innovator OK with failure; I like the brotherhood of the workday, I make a job a way to satisfaction and participation in the economy a form of play and spirituality; money is value and time is a fresh canvas to blow into and try to be heard by the system in the language it speaks; yes, systems and analytics need their preachers. It’s fun to know what to do and stay focused on the people.

I still want to play piano, sing, play tennis and soccer and baseball, have the choice always to turn to reading or listening (Chopin, Liszt, Rachmaninoff)

—

the book is a record of the person I was, and I feel pride in the young person who was able to write it all down https://theparisreview.org/interviews/6312/henri-cole-the-art-of-poetry-no-98-henri-cole ^ him at 40

another Saturday morning washed up on the shore of the in-between, another new before

comets fly days hum making a song

since women I adored have gone away; it’s OK, I emigrate like a bird to the blinking cursor, Notes track where and how I grew up,

http://www.narrativemagazine.com/issues/poems-week-2011-2012/poem-week/dress-rehearsal-apocalypse-tomas-q-morin like Lazarus he rose from the darkest beds taking the splinter where he broke and carved castles from jagged beds he took time to make

-

My language of obviousness has hollowed out like a hole in a tree and is filling with water; the structure of the Notes is irrelevant in ways - I am not going to publish a memoir about my life experience from 25 to 30; it's good that I have it and I'm proud of the young man who wrote it but I can't see my enthusiasm ever matching up to the action of suggesting someone else read what I have written

writing was a way out of the hell of not knowing myself or what to do

it’s a record of thrashing you’re reading now; thanks

But why throw your Notes at them when you can be nice instead? It’s not like I’m far away. If you ask me for my number I’ll give it to you and we’ll text. We can relate.

—

a tweetstorm I read that mattered https://twitter.com/jonst0kes/status/890970472774602752

life is work. also, love.

ivy climbing around poles, flowers popping out of tractor grates, nature fighting through and against and amid human insistence on place and stillness - nature exerting that time is fluid, everything is burning, things don't remain unbroken; time rusts all

The thing about the moment is it isn't going anywhere; we're gonna be here for the rest of our lives “what I was doing” is never rare; I need not hunt for anecdote https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2018/feb/17/elena-ferrante-im-tired-of-fiction-i-no-longer-see-a-reason-to-go-hunting-for-anecdotes

I have the record of what I was; so much data of two years ago and I edit it; I clean it up, make the trail from birth to hear traversable but we have to live today, bear the burden of survival every hour eat hydrate meditate pray the verbs that keep us together the best thing to do is to be something—use your body, use your day, use your manner of speaking to get a life that’s worth being seen and thought about—so far so good: connive your way to a safe career that finances your creative, spiritual efforts like typing thoughts, reading articles, playing piano, singing, having weekends, taking pictures; of course don’t be a public figure; twentysomethings who haven’t done therapy are going to stay up all day and night clutching their image on screen; you have an ambivalence that is rare and valuable but you have no patience for impressing any media elite

so write and grow to make the truth bearable hit notes well: sing, play, write, message, talk with a backdrop of defensible business career and healthy habits (diet, exercise, water, sleep) live into the years when you know how to write fiction because you have a fuller sense of the human condition - you know no one can save you; you know a profound solitude, a caring, nurturing, generative, restorative relationship with yourself alone at night, in the morning, over lunchtime, standing at a red light—that’s where the joy is

-

looking forward to seeing her was nice

a man typing to make himself feel better about his losses

Andante - walking pace Allegro ma non troppo - fast but without tripping

-

fuck literary elites: no one has a monopoly on what is nice to read, how solitude and disappointment draws eyes down and hearts open, seeking a like-minded soul with whom to bond, whose brave existence can make you feel seen, can give you reason to go on yet another day

one media source is insignificant because everything else is just as available

-

take my lovely worm out of the bag show you what I wrote

[years of sitting with the blinking cursor]

-

drugs, love, money, art, death, freedom, time, social media, banality and justice are all still of interest; they're the only things left to do once you’ve won career

Vanity, fear, desire, competition

thinking, feeling, living my life with access to a keyboard and the endless internet occupying this political and personal moment in time as my body accelerates toward certain demise

-

typing, my voice is all I’m left with here at the edge of late capitalism, Saturday, overcast a plane flies overhead

I have no plans except and love shall stomp a new era

a rainforest glistening with possibilities a house on the coast, working from home so many lives I could explain which could be self-sustaining I have many two-year stints left to luxuriate in

and words will fill the pages of my days because a keyboard is where my soul is home

the people I love are out there people who love are out there

we all want the same thing: a safe home, a supportive community, education, time to pursue our curiosity, to contribute meaningfully

I know who I am now

I’m here for the collapse of capitalism

I’m ready for a role in the world as it and I will be

I fear no fate

I love life, I trust life, I am a fucking miracle

I think people will get what they deserve Good people find each other and

Bad people get found out.

the lame crown-pieces at the tops of traditional hierarchies who don’t do anything difficult or admirable are gonna come crashing down

systems of government based on blockchain technology, i.e. transparency

get the rich people at the top out of power—distribute wealth down for education, health care, housing, food, infrastructure, community projects

why is this money sitting in bank accounts? 2017 is the light shone on all dark corners of American reality and the 99% are not going quietly to their desk jobs

millennials are killing everything wasteful and actually think about consequences and interconnectivity

I was made for the future I am just as opinionated and demanding as I was at 26 at the height of burning intensity

Now I've gotten therapy and found a safe career and I'm 100% logged on

and we know that connection is the electric pursuit so

edit something in public and realize it doesn’t need to be there!

working on your front door is good work to do because everyone walks through

06. Connection is the electric pursuit reread and skimmed 10/10 10:11am (21 pages)

As my aging MacBook circles the drain, I wonder: have I overestimated my computing needs? https://motherboard.vice.com/en_us/article/wj9bdm/i-tried-to-replace-my-laptop-with-my-phone-and-a-dollar20-bluetooth-keyboard how much footprint do I really need? I will have to learn how little I have to control (as far as images stored and available and my habits well-worn, i.e. I know the click and search path to getting any particular image I can remember - always honing my library - perhaps that’s the fate of man who’s transcended hourly rate and execution for others’ profit-making schemes

https://www.technologyreview.com/s/511276/free-speech-in-the-era-of-its-technological-amplification/

late nights engaged in conversations on Usenet https://medium.com/s/trustissues/the-messy-fourth-estate-a42c1586b657

to be imaginatively drawn into the sticky world of some nearby human being’s home life https://www.technologyreview.com/s/410623/i-just-called-to-say-i-love-you/

The numbers keep getting worse: the true energy costs of AI, connected devices, and cryptocurrency https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2017/dec/11/tsunami-of-data-could-consume-fifth-global-electricity-by-2025 written by a beautiful woman ripe with life https://genius.com/Talib-kweli-joy-lyrics

The numbers keep getting worse: a memoir of a civilization before its collapse

tsunami of data will consume all Human Resources https://twitter.com/katecrawford/status/1046766828939341824?s=21 giving to the void of send, to the possibly seen the atomization of my desire to be real that’s what will take up electricity for the rest of days

our endless desire for connection is what kills us in the end!
 OR we become part of the worldwide effort to save humanity in heroic fashion by therapy for everyone, a collective Kumbaya, a come-to-Jesus moment where we actually come to [have?] a savior and worship, love and people are loved and adored instead of fear and money but we love images and the devices that serve we are comfortable holding an abstraction of the world in our hands and we can operate our piece in it and yes, then we sit down to dinner and realize our body is just the container of our situation...our body is an emissary of the struggle for survival and love we are in this year this month

The craving for that single stranger-filled neighborhood would not stop with the telegraph. Over the next hundred years, radio, television, and even the telephone all dramatically increased the number of daily interactions people have with information. https://medium.com/@Marinaccio/the-telegraph-changed-how-you-spend-your-time-9a691d860e11