#so ive been sitting with half the story unlocked forever

[moonlit-tia]

I CAN FINALLY READ THE FORESEER MYTH

[beefshadow]

you could come here or i could go there. theres only a half day left to go and its all gonna be dark that whole time. a lot could happen in that time. but it probably wont. i’ll probably go to bed soon and then i’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. on your way to colorado with a prettier girl. but what could happen?

well. i know youre out somewhere. probably doing something fun. you can only listen to chappie when youre doing something fun. and maybe you think that for your last night you want someone there who could be fun with you. if you asked me to, id still come. even if id get there by midnight. theres still a lot of hours left. i could come and i could bring wine and we could play games after stealing michaels tv. you wont get so drunk that you fall asleep before we can talk about something other than how cute the cat is. i don’t expect or even want something more than that. well maybe i do, but i dont want to be presumptuous. i dont want to write down the words that would make you out to be a bad person. the kind of person that would put aside promises already made and give them to someone else. but i still like to think about what would happen if you did. putting it in words would be just as bad as crying in front of you. why dont you love me too?

instead of that. you could come here. mere hours before youre with her and gone. its only two hours out of the way. i know because i looked. and maybe youd come here and say you know maybe ill hang around for a while. you could meet my cat and we could talk about how cute he is. and maybe i can convince you to come away with me. just for the night. i think im going to go anyway. if you came it would be better. and we could sit by the river and look at the yellow trees and the yellow mountains and maybe you’ll think you know i like this a lot. maybe ill stay forever.

id have to clean my house first. its been a mess since two weeks ago. when i sat down and realized youd really be gone. and that youd want to be gone. you could stay more but you wont. theres unopened packages. they have my halloween costume. what will you be doing then? i have an image in my mind of meeting someone else that night. someone would could come in and erase you. i dont think she will. even if there was someone. theyd have to dig pretty deep to uncover you. i know ill be thinking of you. theres also the books on the floor. theres no more room on the shelf. i havent yet found one that can put into words the story ive written about you. what other person could catpure the way i can see you from 100 miles. laying on the couch because youre stubborn. soon itll be more. so many more i wont want to count.

when i think about you theres one image i have. its been unlocked and locked so many times like some memory of something so unimaginably embarrassing. but its not. its so unimaginably wonderful. when you held my hand in the car. you had to reach so far to get it. i didnt understand at first but you kept held on. squeezing so hard. you didnt want to let go i was sure. i made sure. only seven minutes. i checked. to the mexican place. where i bought your dinner because you lost your phone. i remember your hand because it had a ring which i twisted and twisted and twisted. i would always look after that to make sure it was still there. the place where you let me touch. i probably wont see it again. ill never know why you did that. if it was too much zoo wine or something else. but the possibility of something else had lodged itself so deep within me that here i am months later still thinking of then. ill need to lock it back up because if i think on it too hard it just makes me sad. the not knowing. the what if. i wont ever get an answer and that fact is just too much.

god it hurts to know you are living. youre out there existing. and im not there with you a part of that life. god it fucking sucks

[whaleofatjme1920]

EJ SIMPS RISE 😤😤💪💪💪

may i please request a scenario for yandere ej x fem reader where ej is punishing the reader for escaping ? feel free to go DARK dark with this one <3

Cream Colored Ceiling

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: NSFW - but not for sexual content, just violence, what isn't a warning in this one, mentions of cannibalism (but there is no described cannibalism, just allusions to it), EJ physically harms the reader, amputation, violence of all kinds, throw up, look this is just,,,, it's dark. I repeat, there is no sexual content in here, it's just physically violent]

[AN: yeah. This was uh, yeah.]

Hazy, your mind is hazy. You wake and open your eyes to see that same fucking cream colored ceiling with water damage leaking through the top and dangerously close to your bed, if you’d even want to call it your bed.

You raise one of your hands that feels heavier than stones and wipe quietly at your eyes, dusting them from the sleep. Your body feels heavy, oh so heavy.

You sit up. Nothing strange so far.

Has he really been that gracious with you?

You yawn and stretch, joints and bones popping as you look out the window. There’s that cursed forest. It looks dark, shadowy, misty. The fog is rolling in and you know with it comes the rain. You’re going to be stuck here forever, aren’t you?

The sunlight doesn’t filter through the window, but there’s light regardless. You’re deep into mid Autumn and with it will come winter. It’ll be the third winter you’ve been trapped with this monster.

Your mouth feels dry, much too dry. You smack your lips together a few times, wondering where your saiva has gone and decide to go to the kitchen. It seems like Jack isn’t home right now, which is probably for the best. Alongside him being out, so too is your natural fear of him. You swing your legs over the side of your bed, wondering why you feel so physically exhausted before attempting to stand up.

“Shit!” You cry out as your knees buckle beneath you, your body cascading like a pile of bricks to the floor. Your knees and palms blank onto the hardwood, digging into you most uncomfortably. Tears well in your eyes as you struggle to get off the floor. You continue to curse under your breath as you glance back at your ankles where large surgical wounds lay, covered in stitches and gauze. What the fuck? When did that happen?

Your heart begins to race when you slow, calculated steps padding on the floor. You’re all too familiar with the sound of those combat boots knocking on the floor, pacing back and forth and keeping you awake at all hours of the night. Panic sears itself into your heart as you attempt to get up, pathetically crawling along the floor and reaching for your bedpost.

Jack stands in your doorway, his large form casting a shadow on your throw rug. He tsks, and you can already tell he’s more than disappointed with you. “What did I tell you about getting up?” He asks, voice smooth and clinical, once again padding towards you.

You feel tears well in your eyes as you curl as tightly into a ball as you can.

Jack breathes out with slight disappointment before crouching down and seeing your sorry form. “You knew this was going to happen,” he says, half lidded eyes watching you curiously before he reaches his large, gloved hand out. “Did you pop any of your sutures?” He tilts his head to the side and looks over your swollen, still bloodied ankles. “I think you might’ve.” He reaches to pick you up and you begin to panic, blubbering your apologies.

“I’m sorry, please, don’t touch me, don’t hurt me-” you begin to babble, your remaining strength trying their hardest to push the behemoth away. Tears well in your eyes as Jack grips your calves, sending pain holting like lightning strikes up and down your lower body, making you cry out in pain.

“You deserve it,” he murmurs, his claws pinching into your skin before he lifts you. A glance of annoyance passes over his face before he yanks your grip from the bed.

You struggle against him as you pound your fists into his broad chest, tears of frustration falling down your cheeks.

The tall demon moves without budging. He doesn’t care, you barely feel like a scratch to him.

You watch your surroundings, still fighting against him and feel your heart sink when you realize he’s taking you down the hall that he’s deemed forbidden. The energy you feel from this specific hallway makes you cry out in fear.

Jack eats it up, his own heart beating just a little faster. You won’t ever do what you pulled last night again. He juggles you into one his arms and uses his free hand to unlock the door, the slight beeps of numbers being added into a keypad making your attention shift ever so slightly.

The inside of this room is like a horror scene to you. You see an operating table, and stainless steel tables, cabinets and countertops. There’s a large trash bin filled with bloody gauze and other things, such as discarded clothes, clumps of hair, things you don’t want to think of. Is this it? Is he finally going to kill you?

Fear overtakes your system again and renders you to nothing but silent sobs as Jack pulls off a turquoise colored sheet from the operating table, placing you down.

You try to get off, wiggling and clawing at him. “Let me go!” You cry out like a broken record of a mantra, your eyes wild and feral.

Jack simply shrugs you off, tying large leather brown straps over your waist and your chest, rendering you immobile. “The more you struggle, the more it’s going to hurt you,” he hums, his clawed hands moving across your chest to your wrists. He quickly ties you down there as well, your legs numbly kicking at him through the pain due to severed Achilles tendons. He flicks the wound on your left leg, grinning at your pain. “Won’t be needing these anymore,” he chuckles.

“What?” You say in shock, pupils restricting to the size of pim points.

He takes a seat on his wheeled stool and begins setting you up with an IV drip. “Gonna sedate you, and when you wake up?” He warmly smiles, pricking the vein on your right arm with the needle, making you weakly thrash once more. “Get some sleep,” he murmurs, pumping some sedatives into your bloodstream.

You feel more tears welling in your eyes as your conscience begins to wean. The world becomes more shapes and colors, merging into brightness and shadows before you finally slip into your dreams.

You haven’t been able to trick Jack like this in the history of well, ever. Almost three years with this nightmare and you’ve finally gained enough of his trust to ask him for some time out.

“Don’t stay in there for too long,” he says, large hand gripping your thigh as you swallow down the feeling of hitting him from where you remain seated in the passenger seat. “I want you back safely,” he murmurs, his other hand gently letting go of the wheel to cup your face.

You do your best to show love and admiration in your eyes as you meet his gaze. “Don’t worry. It’s just an hour or so, okay?” You hum, your hand gently holding his and burying your face deeper into his warmth.

“I don’t know why you need anyone else’s company,” he says, a slight acrid venom seeping into his tone. “You don’t need anyone else but me.” It’s almost cute how offended he sounds.

You play the part of loving him. “I know, I know,” you coo, taking his hand from your face and pressing your lips into a pucker. You raise his hand to them, planting a kiss on his palm. “I love you. I won’t be that long.”

Jack’s heart flutters. “I’ll be here, waiting for you.” He says, watching you as you unbuckle yourself, his hand reluctantly leaving your thigh.

You flash him a warm smile and lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, and then his lips. You try not to spit at the scent of blood and taste of rot before pulling away. You then open up his car, sliding from the passenger seat and to the rinky dink little bar you’d managed to convince him to let you go to. Just an hour - that’s all it was. Just an hour. You’d be in and out, get some drinks, and come straight back to his car.

Due to Jack’s appearance, he had told you he couldn’t go in. They’d know something was wrong with him immediately, and you’d gained enough of his trust for you to be away for just an hour. Come straight back to the car when it reaches 10 PM. You promised him. And he fucking believed you.

It wasn’t that hard finding some idiot down on his luck with the ladies. You cozied up next to him, getting to sit with him at the bar and start talking. He was so attentive and sweet, so receptive to the story you had made up to him.

“That sounds awful,” he says, voice low and sweet. His deep blue eyes look at you with nothing but gentleness and fondness. His hand reaches for yours across the bar and you smile, allowing him to take it.

“I just wanna get away from that brute,” you admit. “I just wanna go home.”

He squeezes you just a little tighter. “Why don’t we go back to my car and call the cops?” He offers.

“Where did you park?” You ask, hoping it’s not in the front lot where Jack remains waiting for you.

“In the back.”

What a relief.

A slight smile blooms on your face as you nod. “Yeah, let’s go,” you finally answer. You hop off the barstool and then grip his hand, letting him lead you through the bar and the sea of people. It smells like sweat, alcohol, and regret - you love it. It smells like the beginning of freedom, something better. Maybe, just maybe…

He opens the backdoor to you, allowing you out first. The crisp night air of autumn greets you with her beauty. You can smell maple leaves and pumpkins out in the distance, the atmosphere is incredible. “That one’s mine,” he says, pointing to his car a little ways down in the parking lot under one of the yellow lights. He continues holding your hand as the two of you walk through the parking lot.

You watch as he unlocks the car door, walking around the side to let you in. You accompany him and slide into the passenger seat. Putting this seat belt on feels almost liberating. You giggle when the short man closes the door before walking around the front of his car.

And then he pauses.

Fear seeps into his eyes and leans forward, his abdomen cutting into the hood of the hunk of metal that can barely be called a car before sweat beads and rolls down his forehead. He begins to cough, violently.

Your eyes widen in shock as he begins to cough up blood, and tears well in his eyes. They roll down his cheeks, fat and crystalline like the beads of sweat. He reaches out to you, mouthing for you to run before finally slumping forwards.

You see him, the behemoth that’s held you captive for three years, a sapphire colored mask boring into your soul and searing into your mind with what you can understand is pure, unadulterated rage. You scramble, panicking as you notice the large blade that’s wedged itself into the man’s back as he seizes on the car, his thick body rolling off from the hood and landing with a large ‘thump!’ as he does so. Foam and the smell of something unpleasant wafts upwards and you palm the handle of the car, attempting to release yourself.

Jack takes slow, calculated steps forwards, his shadow growing larger as he gears up to catch you and claim you as his.

Your heart pounds like a drum in your chest, the panic overtaking your system as you finally get the car open. You shoot out of the metal cage like a bat from hell and stumble onto the asphalt, hissing as the black tar digs into your knees and palms. No time for registering your pain, you need to run! Like a freshly born faun, you hobble up and begin to run, wondering if you can make it back to the bar and the safety of other people when Jack’s steps grow quicker.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! He’s going to catch you and he’s going to kill you!

“You’re such a stupid little rabbit,” he hums, watching as you sorely sprint towards the door. “Look what you’ve done,” he taunts, hand gesturing to the man. “You made me kill him and I’m not even hungry,” he hums. “Maybe I should make you eat it instead,” he muses.

The thought alone makes your stomach retch. You stumble once more, body feeling violently ill as you cave. The alcohol paired with his words has you emptying your stomach of its contents that splash to the asphalt, the sickly acrid and saccharine taste overtaking your mouth.

Jack’s giant form finally overtakes you. He stands with his hands behind his back, peering down at you with disdain. “Fucking disgusting,” he coos in a tone that reminds you of a condescending father. He grips the back of your neck and forces you down.

You screech and fight him, not wanting to touch what came out of you.

“No? No,” he grins. “Fine. Let’s go see your date.” His claws dig into your neck as he drags you back to the man’s car where he’s finally gone still. He’s left a puddle of blood. Jack laughs quietly at your struggling before forcing you to your knees. “Are you hungry?”

“No-”

“I think you mean yes.”

The taste of blood still lingers in your mouth, and it remains even in your slumber.

Of course, you passed out due to your traumatic experience, and threw up again as well. Jack took advantage of your fragile state and brought you back to your home, the place you belonged - with him. He cut your Achilles tendons, just a warm up, really.

“Time to wake up.” Jack’s voice permeates your head, rousing you from your slumber. His gloved hands are snapping in front of you.

It’s bright, much too bright. Your body feels simultaneously heavier and lighter. Where are you? You see that you’re now looking into an operating light, and it’s super uncomfortable. “What did you do to me?” You ask drowsily.

Jack ignores your question and instead picks you up. His footsteps begin to lull you into sleep.

Exhausted, you fall back in again, and this time? This time, it’s dreamless.

It’s that fucking cream colored ceiling again that you open your eyes to. The water damage is still the same, and you realize you’re still stuck. You’re about to get up when you hear your door opening.

“Nice to see you up,” Jack says, watching as you slowly come to. “Did you dream about anything?”

You narrow your eyes recoiling as he reaches his hand out to pet you.

Jack glares at you for a moment, his hand straightening before he slaps you. “Don’t get testy, I’ll take your arms next,” he murmurs.

You’re about to bite back when you take in his words. What? Your heart begins to sink, deeper and deeper as your hand shakily reaches to the edge of your bed sheets. No. No. NO. You hold your breath as you rip the sheets off. Your flesh is swollen, puffy and looks like it’s crying out in its own form of pain. Large, manila colored casts and bandages surround your thighs and what remains of your knees.

You begin to hyperventilate. Your chest begins to rise and fall faster and faster - your body feels like a prison.

Jack only coos. “Stop that,” he says lovingly, hand petting your head as you fall deeper and deeper into despair. He removes the black glove from his hand and grabs your face, his dark, eyeless sockets boring into your own eyes. He looks at you with such adoration that acts as a front for the betrayal and anger he feels for you deep down inside. He draws closer to your tear stained face, a small smile bearing shark-like teeth at you before parting his lips to speak to you. “You’re being hysterical.”

[a-demons-guide-to-games]

World Design, Runescape, and Fast Travel

Fuck. You got work tomorrow, and you've already scraped the last bit of coffee out the container this morning. And there's no way in hell or the abyss, that you can get through work without some more. So you stop by a Walmart to grab some. But as you drive through the shopping plaza, you notice there's a cheap pastry shop, a pet store with some cool fish to look at, and a nice fountain to sit by. None of these stores are worth taking the time out of our day to visit, but you're already here right? Why not enjoy the little detour you’ve been forced to take?

Or better yet, imagine your travelling down a mountain road, but alas, you in all your brilliance forgot to get gas for the car. The only station you know of is thirty minutes back the way you came. You start cursing at the steering wheel when your friend pulls out the map and reveals that up ahead is a fork in the road, taking the left path takes you to a quiet little mountain village that just happens to have the only gas station in your current direction. So because of the distance between you, your current location, and your own poor decision making, your forced to pull in to a tiny little villa that you've now fallen head over heels in love with. From the locals, to some of the best restaurants you've ever been to. It even has a cute Knick Knack store! If it wasn't for your circumstances while travelling you would've missed such a beautiful hole in the wall locale.

But what would have happened if you could have just gone to the dollar store next door to where you work? Or what if there was a convenient gas station on the main path on that mountain? 

If you're looking for your answer, then Runescape loadstones are what you're looking for. Let me give you a specific example. White Wolf mountain. The western part of the map is blocked by a treacherous mountain with tough enemies for a new player, or you have to go south and pay for a ship. If you elect to skip paying the ship fare and the walk south then now you've got to take the winding path. Every time. Once across there's a small fishing town, it's got one of the best fishing grounds. It has various fishing spots to catch different leveled fish, a store to buy them, or a bank to store them. Catherby becomes the respite from White Wolf Mountain, and White Wolf Mountain itself becomes a character as you associate it with winding paths, the dead bodies littering the ascent, and the wolves that prowl on the under leveled. It represents both a challenge, as well as the gateway to the other half of Runescape's massive map. There is a shortcut though. However it requires a quest to access and to complete the quest you have to level your fishing skill. So now Catherby becomes the training ground to level up to go unlock the path to "beat" White Wolf Mountain. The mountain provides a threat and encourages the player to either level their combat, or skip the whole walk up by leveling their non-combat skills. It provides a fun nuisance to players the first time they come ill-prepared, and offers a means for extrinsic motivation to level their skills. Its perfect world design, blending elements of player driven storytelling and pushing good quest exploration. And then the load stones came.

Loadstones are really simple. It’s just Runescapes method of fast travelling When you go to one for the first time, you can then teleport to it for free. Forever. Crossed White Wolf Mountain once? Never go to it again. Need to go to Ardougne? Teleport to that bitch. there's a quest to skip White Wolf Mountain? Don't need to do that shit until I'm forced as a quest requirement for some more meaty feeling quests. The ease of loadstones and how forgiving they are to new players, cheapens the early sense of difficulty White Wolf Mountain ultimately posed, and chips off the character of the area. For RPGs sometimes the best stories aren't the ones programmed by developers, but driven by a player's sense of exploration and testing the boundaries of what they're capable of. Loadstones negate this feeling. And take the edge off these locations, making the journey no longer something to be tackled or planned around. It causes players to now entirely think about what they're teleporting to instead of how to get there, it emphasizes the destination and deemphasizes the journey, cutting a huge avenue of early player experience.

Towns like Port Sarim become less useful as a trip to catch a boat when I could easily loadstone to places. Towns that acted as byways stations and encouraged you to skill there as you passed through have been almost forgotten by me until I need to go there for a quest. Routes that I used to walk no longer are used. And shortcuts like canoeing feel like leftovers from an earlier design philosophy no longer in practice since I can just loadstone everywhere. The characterization given to the world through interaction has faded, and so has my understanding of these small towns in the game Now I understand why they did this. Some quests start on one side the map and have you going to random places that functionally have no reason to need you to go to these places aside from padding. And loadstones cut quest length down in half. It makes linking up with friends easier, and some towns are actually worth visiting now that the walk is a quarter of the time. Some loadstones even require quests to activate. like the one in the desert. Soren Johnson, a designer of Civilization IV can be quoted as saying “given the opportunity, players will optimize the fun out of a game,” And I just feel that a lot of the joy that came from planning my routes, or finding shortcuts, or stopping by small towns has been completely forgotten. That the dollar store has come to roost, and that a gas station has been given to me. Yes I’m less annoyed, but am I more fulfilled?

[crowdedimagines]

Baby Dobrik - David Dobrik

word count: 1761 an// this gif has nothing to do with this story, david’s just cute af

“I need help.” I whisper into the phone, waiting for a response.

“What’s going on? Are you okay, (Y/n)?” Liza says without hesitation.

“I’m fine. Can you come over?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m on my way.”

“Can you do me one more thing?” I ask, trying to remain calm.

“Yeah, whatever you need.”

“A pregnancy test.”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can.” I can hear the background noise of her getting in her car, “I love you, (Y/n). Don’t panic.”

“I love you too, Liza.”

I will always be thankful for the relationship that Liza and I have. Everyone assumed once I started dating David that we hate each other’s guts. That is far from the case. We were all friends before anyone dated. Liza is not in a place in her life right now where she can have a boyfriend.

David has moved past that. It took time but we ended up together. We’ve been friends forever, but one night we were drunk beyond belief and one thing led to another. We decided after that that we both wanted a relationship. Liza has been both our friends through all of it.

It doesn’t take long for Liza to show up at David’s house. It’s just me here, the house is quiet. Too quiet for my liking.

“(Y/n)?” Liza asks, walking through the front door that I had unlocked when I opened the garage gate.

“Hi.” I smile slightly but it’s more of a courtesy than of being thrilled.

“I got it.” She hands me a brown paper bag and joins me on the couch. “Are you sure?”

“No. That’s why I need this.” I shrug before shaking the bag to gesture to it. “My period is over two and a half weeks late. I’ve also been throwing up every morning this week. David thinks I am getting the flu. I didn’t put two and two together until right before I called you.”

It’s weird sometimes to see Liza so serious. She always adds humor to everything that she does, it’s something that I love about her. Even she doesn’t have a joke for this. The only other time I’ve seen her like this is when she opened up about her mental health.

“No matter what the results, you are going to be okay.” She places a reassuring hand on my knee.

“The last thing that David needs right now is a kid.” I place my face in my hands, “His career is doing so well. I don’t want to be the thing that ruins that.”

“You won’t be ruining it, and if David sees it that way he’s not the man that either of us thought he was. It’s not just his opinion that matters. How do you feel?”

I can feel my eyes slowly starting to water.

“I want to be a mom, but I didn’t want it this soon. It’s not what I expected for my life right now, but I can’t help but get excited with the thought.”

I ramble while she nods, understanding where I am coming from completely.

“Go in there and pee on that stick. I’ll be out here no matter what the results are.”

I hop off the couch and go into David and I’s shared bathroom. Three minutes pass and the timer on my phone makes me jump. The stick is face down on the counter. I take a few deep breaths before I can stomach flipping it over. Either way, I can find happiness. I know I can.

Positive.

I walk back into the living room. Liza notices and immediately sets her phone down.

“Am I going to be an Auntie?” She asks with a smile.

“You are.” I smile.

She jumps up and pulls me into a hug. She’s jumping up and down and pulls me with her.

“I know this isn’t when you wanted this to happen but it’ll be good! This baby is going to end up being a blessing, just you wait!”

“I know, I know!”

Liza stays for a while and I make lunch for us. We talk about the baby, and how the rest of the vlog squad is going to react. We also talk about how David is going to react.

“I just hope he is as excited as me. I was worried at first, being so young, but now I can’t wait to be a mom.” I smile.

“I’m home!” David yells, he kicks off his shoes at the front door. “Hey Liza, I didn’t know you were coming over today.”

He walks over and stands next to me at his table.

“Last minute thing.” Liza insists. “But I think I’m heading home now.”

She gets up from the table once he comes into the house.

“It was great spending today with you.” She places a hand on my arm.

“Thank you for coming over.”

I pull her in for a hug and walk her to the door.

“Good luck. Text me everything.” She whispers, “If you need anything, I’m a phone call away.”

“Thank you, Liza.”

She waves before walking out of the house. I walk over to find David in the living room now.

“Hey, how was your day?” I ask, sitting down next to him. I swing my legs onto his lap, and he sets his phone

“Good. I think I got some good content at Zane’s with Jason. We did this bit with the flamethrower.” He starts laughing to himself thinking about it.

“I’m sure that’ll be great.” I smile.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks, picking up on me acting more quiet than usual.

“Yeah, I actually need to tell you something.” I sit up, tucking my legs underneath me.

“Am I going to like where this is heading?” He starts absentmindedly spinning one of the rings around his finger.

“I honestly don’t know. I hope so. I think it’s good.” I laugh nervously.

“Should I film a reaction? Is it good?” He gets a goofy grin on his face but I can tell that he’s still nervous.

“Yeah, I think it’s great. You might have a different reaction.”

He grabs his camera and starts recording. This could go either way. He’s either going to get great footage of him first finding out about our child or he’s going to get our downfall.

“Close your eyes.” I smile.

“Really?” He groans. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, because if you don’t you won’t believe me.”

He reluctantly closes his eyes. I quickly run to the bathroom to grab the pregnancy test. I come back to find him with his eyes still closed.

“Hold out your hands.”

“(Y/n)” He groans out my name before holding out two shaky hands.

I place the small plastic stick in his hands. The small plastic stick that holds our whole future.

He peeks his eyes open to see the test.

“You’re joking.” He laughs, not believing me.

“I’m not.” I can’t wipe the tight-lipped smile off of my face.

“Seriously?” I nod, “Deadass?”

I nod yet again. He doesn’t say anything for a second. Instead, he tackles me on the couch.

“Oh my god! We’re having a baby!” He yells.

I can’t help but laugh along with him. He’s still hugging me into the couch, the camera long forgotten.

“I love you.” He peppers kisses all along my face. “I can’t believe you didn’t know if I would think this was good!”

“I don’t know! I was unsure at first, we’re so young.” We pull away a bit so we can see each other’s faces but not so far that we aren’t touching.

“Yeah, but so were my parents. We’ll figure it out, I couldn’t be more happy to do this with you though.” He grins. It gives me butterflies seeing him get so excited about this. I feel bad for even doubting him in the first place.

“We’re having a baby.” I whisper.

“We’re having a baby.” He reaffirms.

I lean in and press my lips against his. We’re both smiling too much to really focus on the kiss. He scoots down on the couch and presses a kiss to my stomach.

“Hey, we’re still recording.” I laugh and point to the camera which had been forgotten.

“Welcome to the vlog squad Baby Dobrik.” I say with a laugh.

David rests his head on on my stomach just getting close. He’s whispering super quietly, I can’t even hear most of what he’s saying

“So, is this what it’s going to be like for the next nine months?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

“Yes, you two are bonding all the time. I’m taking all the time I can get,” He says with a smug grin.

I reach forward and grab his camera and turn it off.

“Looks like you’re going to have the best clickbait yet.”

“No.” He shakes his head, “At least not for a while, I want this to be between just us for as long as I can. Our baby.”

“Well, us and Liza.” I smile.

“Liza already knows?” He asks, shocked.

“Yes! She brought me the pregnancy test.” I point to the test to that is no just sitting on his table.

“Okay, next time please just come to me. I promise you have nothing to worry about. I love you so much.”

“Next time? Already planning on knocking me up again?” I joke.

“Maybe, we can’t just have one kid!” David says af it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“How many kids do you think were having?” I ask with a laugh. It’s fun talking about this with him. We’ve talked about the future together but never children.

“At least two.” He shrugs.

“Two I can handle. I already have my hands full with you, can’t have too many kids.” I poke him in the side.

“Hey!”

“Kidding kidding!”

“So I told my best friend, you can tell yours.” I say, “It’s only fair.”

“My best friend already knows.” He sits up.

“What?”

“Yeah, she’s the one carrying my child.” His face flushes for a second, slightly embarrassed.

“That was so cheesy, bub!” I coo over him.

“Alright, shut up.” He tries to push me away from my affections.

“Hey! You can’t tell a pregnant woman to shut up!”

“This is going to be a long nine months.” He groans back, repeating my earlier words back to me.

“I know, but at the end we get a baby.” I remind. He shakes his head again in disbelief and awe.

“Baby Dobrik.”

[zainab1x1s]

▲ five time my muse thought about kissing yours, and the one time they did. agan jovia thanks

Five times Josh thought about kissing Olivia “Liv” Roberts, and one time he did.

i.

Okay, so he knows it’s stupid or whatever to want to kiss her right after they just met. Which is why he’s not going to do it. I mean, not that he isn’t stupid, because there are a couple of guys on the football team that have witnessed things that can’t be unseen, but he’s not going to be stupid anymore. Well, at least not when it comes to this. Because he thinks he might actually like her, you know? And, to be honest with you, he doesn’t know exactly what that means, or even if it’s going to lead anywhere, but he’s not about to mess up his shot within the first meeting.

He’s gotta be honest, though - it wasn’t the easiest. Because she was just sitting there, talking about him falling in love with her while he was locked away in prison and romanticizing her through her letters, and at some points their heads were too close together to be doing anything but kissing, and it was all a bit disorienting, if he was real with you.

The only thing that stopped him was the realization that he still had to go to football practice, and the inability to convince himself that his coach would accept talking to a very cute girl as an excuse for being late that. And even that barely stopped him. Josh kept talking to her as he stood up and shuffled toward his gym bag, his eyes not leaving her for a second. Even when she convinced him to get off of the bleachers and run through the field, Josh barely jogged, still laughing and talking and looking back as he eventually sped up.

He wanted to keep talking to her. He wanted to hear about her dumb hypothetical scenarios where he ended up the pining idiot (which, as time went by, began looking less and less hypothetical). He wanted to kiss her, and it was pretty hard trying to convince himself not to.

It was worth it, though. He probably shouldn’t have been so sure of that right away, but he was. He liked hearing her talk too much for it to not be.

ii.

Josh had almost a schedule, which was saying something for someone who sort of did everything haphazardly. but his almost schedule went a little like this: Monday through Wednesday he for sure spent with the football team, unless someone else specifically asked to sit with them, and then he sat with them because, like, he’s not an asshole. Friday he sometimes sat with the football team, but only if they were going out later that night or there was a game and they needed to plan pre-party shit. Otherwise, he was on the far right bleachers with just him and his sandwich.

Thursday, though. Thursday was a god’s day. Thursday Josh had always spent by himself, every single time, without fail. If anyone asked, he just told them he had something planned. The football team had fallen out of the habit of asking, knowing that he was always, always, going to pick his turkey sandwich and the far right bleachers over them every time. He needed that day to pull himself out of the stupid facade that was Badlands Prep, needed time to get away from things that people kept treating as important or ground-shattering. Thursday was his alone day.

Which is why he couldn’t understand why the girl from the other day was walking over to him right that second.

“So,” she said as she sat down, as if she hadn’t just interrupted a boy mid-bite of a sandwich and clearly isolating himself. “I realized I never finished going over the theories with you the other day, and my dad brought up a good one today at breakfast this morning that I really think you’d appreciate.”

As Liv went on about her theory - which was that he was in a very elaborate game of truth or dare, one of which being that he had to pretend that he was a museum statue that had somehow gotten out - Josh tried his best to surreptitiously swallow the morsel in his mouth and came across a striking realization.

He was having a really good time. Like, actually, a really good, non-exhausting time.

And the more she talked about his inability to control himself, the more he wanted to kiss her.

“Right? Because you seem like the kind of guy that would get carried away with that kind of thing.”

Josh only nodded, a huge smile on his face. “Yeah, uh. You’re right about that.” He handed her half of his sandwich, a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. “But have you considered this theory?”

They talked until the bell rang, and barely made it time for class.

iii.

They had spent too long flirting to not finally go on some kind of date. Along the same vein, they spent way too long talking about the different ways they could break into the MOMA to not go there for their first official date.

He felt almost nervous. He felt like he should have been nervous. They literally met because her dad arrested him for being cross-faded and breaking into their date spot in the middle of the night. He insisted on driving his clunky, atrocious, cherry red car through New York streets, and it was pulled up in front of her apartment building. He was standing in front of her door either severely underdressed or severely overdressed, considering they never discussed a dress code, and he had no idea who was going to open it. And yet, he wasn’t the least bit nervous.  

Maybe Liv had cast a spell on him. Some kind of un-nervous-ifying, un-exhausting, unable-to-stop-smiling-until-his-face-physically-hurt kind of spell. It only made sense.

And when she opened the door, Josh realized it was the only logical explanation.

She appeared in what must have been a haze of glory, but was more likely just Josh being able to focus on anything except her. She was beautiful. She was more than beautiful. Beautiful didn’t even begin describing how she looked. She was art, and Josh could only think of two things.

One: How could he have possibly gone this long without knowing her, dating her, doing this?

And two: How much he really wanted to kiss her right then.

Instead, he only stuck out his arm, already feeling his cheeks hurting from smiling too much, and said, “Ready to go? MOMA’s not gonna break into itself and all.”

iv.

Time was always a weird concept for Josh. When he was running - on the field, from the cops, anything that got his heart pumping - time kicked into hyperdrive. He was moving at the speed of light suddenly, laughter trailing behind him. When he was drunk - like, really drunk - time moved in sort of jump cuts, from one moment to another with no connection between the two. Trying to be sober when you really wanted to be drunk was like being frozen in time, like moving through molasses, except not moving at all. Parties themselves existed in a world outside of time, a weird subsection that didn’t fall under any of the above. 

He had, however, never experienced the slowing of time. And it seemed he kind of liked it.

The date couldn’t have been more than an hour or two in, and every moment felt like a lifetime, holding a million conversations per each minute that went by. He was on autopilot, but not in the sense that he had checked out. Rather, the words and stories and laughter spilled so easily from his mouth he didn’t even have to stop to think about them. Everything about Liv seemed more and more unreal.

It took everything in him not to kiss her. Like, he knew he said that a lot that day, but wow was it real this time. Because every time she moved, laughed, shook her head and smiled at his awful jokes, it was in slow motion. Like every sign in the world was telling Josh that this was his chance, that he had to seize it before it ended, and he was going to do it, too. He had to, right? 

But then she burst out laughing at a naked statue’s penis and the mood quickly shifted. 

Maybe that was for the best.

v.

The night came to a close before either of them could fully accept it, with reluctant “I should probably bring you back now, right?”s and “it’s getting late, my dad might wonder where I am”s stumbling over each other on their way to the realization that the date had to end at some point.

“One of these days,” Josh said with a striking amount of confidence as he walked Liv back up to her apartment, “I’m taking you somewhere better.”

Liv only raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Somewhere better than the MOMA? The world-famous MOMA?”

Josh was diligent in his answer, not missing a beat. “Yep.” He stopped to look at her for a second, smiling like an idiot before adding, “maybe I’ll take you to The Louvre.”

“The Louvre?”

“Yeah. The Louvre.”

“Sounds expensive,” was all she said. “What if the trip there puts you in debt, and then we’re stuck in France forever?”

“Then I’ll take up a job at a street performer,” he said with an amazing amount of conviction. 

This brought out a chuckle in her. “Can you even street perform?”

Josh shrugged. “I mean, how hard can it be?” Freezing in his tracks, Josh began a poor, almost comical mime-in-the-box presentation. He bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing as he resumed his position Liv’s side. “See? We’ll be fine.”

An even louder laugh this time. “Okay, it’s settled. We’re doomed. We’re going to be stuck in Paris forever with no way of getting home, all because you tried to one up the MOMA.”

They had reached Liv’s apartment, and they were both stalling for time and were completely aware of the fact. Josh released her hand so that she could unlock the door, but leaned forward until their heads were nearly touching again. “If it helps,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he spoke, “there are worse things than being stuck in Paris with a cute girl named Liv.”

He should have kissed her, but he didn’t. He had bigger plans.

vi.

Driving back to the MOMA and then driving around looking for a dollar store in his dumb, clunky car was the worst idea Josh had ever had. Well, maybe not the worst, because Josh has had some pretty stupid ideas, but it was up there, for sure. It was all for a dumb, stupid, dorky joke that she probably wasn’t even going to find that funny, but he had to do it, you know? He couldn’t not do it.

When he returned to his door, he found his heart pounding like it was about to beat out of his chest. He held the picture in the cheap ornate frame closer to his chest, as if it could quell the sound of his heartbeat. When she opened the door, though, a gigantic grin spread across his face like it was instinct, like that was his body’s natural reaction to just seeing her.

God, he was fucking wrecked.

“What are you doing?” Liv said slowly, but as her eyes fell on the picture frame, a small smile of realization spread across her face, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

“Well, I thought I’d get you something from the MOMA. As a date present,” Josh said, outstretching his hands and presenting the picture in all its glory. “Don’t worry, I didn’t steal it.” He gave her an overdramatic wink and then added, “I just bought it from the gift shop and threw it in a cheap frame.” Another dramatic wink.

Liv was already on the verge of belly laughter, he could tell.

“I-” she began to say something, but instead took the picture and sat it on a wall behind the door. When she turned back, the two of them wore matching ear-to-ear smiles, not needing to say anything - not being able to find anything that would quite communicate what they were feeling for each other in that moment.

And that was when he kissed her. And, okay, maybe it was too soon, and maybe it was stupid, but it also would’ve been stupid if he didn’t kiss her. He had to do it, you know? There wasn’t an option this time.

And when her hands found their way to Josh’s hair, and their teeth clanked together from smiling so hard, and his arms wrapped around her waist, Josh realized that (for what might have been the first time in his life) his gut instinct was right.

[aurora-boring-alis]

wip lmao

Got tagged by @dxrkblaze to share some wip writing. Tbh I haven’t been doing much lately so ive only got scraps n shreds that have been chilling on my ipad for the last bit 

I also usually save proper writing for my side blog but eh i can bend the rules once or twice 

Oh ye its oc shit btw sorry

Its roughly 2 AM and I am awake, entangled in sweat soaked fleece in the backseat of my car. My gaze, clouded and blurry from interrupted sleep and absence of my glasses. The seats are lumpy and my back aches. It feels like I left the heat on, despite my car having been off for the last day or so.

I ran here earlier in the night and crashed in the back seat, hoping to catch some alone time and sleep. I haven’t slept well, much to my dismay; my mind was too awake, revving its engine, ready to go and drive me into a ditch. I retrace my thoughts, recount the steps of how I had got here, lying in the backseat of my beat up Tercel, trying to sleep, trying to outrun this. I  suppose I could try to sober up from sleep and trek back to the city. But something about the thought of driving alone on a highway at night terrifies me. Perhaps it’s the thought of being completely alone. Maybe it’s the thought of crashing and not having anyone find me.

I sit up, reaching for my glasses, which are in the cup holder. I slide them onto the bridge of my nose, my gaze tracing up the plastic interior and gazing  out the window. I’m parked on the shoulder of a gravel road that can barely fit two cars. To the left is the forest and a few cottages, slowly steeping upwards on a slight hill. To the right is the lake, it’s glassy waters glimmering, the moon shining brightly onto it. Cottages pepper the cleared path before the road and back onto  the forest. There’s a few other parked cars along the road, but they’re like ghosts, emptied of their belongings and people. Near the cars are little tin boats that the cottagers use to get across the lake and onto the small islands in the middle. Light from them  snakes across the lake, showing where they live. Hours ago, I was like them, with Patrick, in happy company, enjoying the sun, fresh air and lake.

But like always, I had to go and doubt myself. Oh yes, I just had to go and question everything I’ve ever felt about me, about Patrick, about our friendship, about our love. “Stupid Lindey…” I chastise myself. I pull my knees up to my chest and hold myself, drawing a thin gasp of air. I shut my eyes, trying my hardest to block him out of my thoughts. But the more I do, the more the spurs and spats of memory come crawling back to me.

I hear my phone vibrate, and I tense. I look down, the phone screen lit up, burning my eyes. It’s nearly silent, save for the buzz. It ceases a second later. I look down, the words Pat, missed call (4) appearing on the lock screen. A frown creeps across my lips as I unlock my phone and begin to play back his messages.

“Lin, it’s me. Why did you just run off? Did I do something wrong? Please tell me.” His voice is gruff and tired. A shiver goes down my back. “We’re friends right? I don’t want to loose you. And you mean a lot to me.“ 

The voicemail system flips forwards to the next message. ”Lin. It’s me again. I don’t know where you get off just running away like that. Why won’t you tell me what I did wrong?“

The next. ”You know what, I’ve had it. Call me back or don’t. I don’t care anymore Lindey. You can go-“ I hit the hang up button before I can hear anymore. He’s right though. I have jostled him around. I’ve played with his heart, and led him on. I toss the phone onto the floor of the car and lay back onto the plastic interior.

I mean, I haven’t always felt this way. I love Patrick and I can see myself going into something deeper with him, but, now when I look at him, there’s something missing, not connecting even. He’s whole and complete, and me, I feel like the wires in my brain are jumbled into a large knot, the ends loose and thrown across the edges of my mind.

I’ve been somewhat of a checkerboard in my past – not really caring whether I wake up beside a girl or a guy. When we started, Patrick told me that he was bi, it didn’t bother me. However, he looked expectantly towards me, and I said I was straighter than an arrow with sarcasm lurking behind my words. This memory sends me back into questioning. I never thought much about it – I liked girls and guys and that was that. I never saw anything more than a possible friendship with them. But my parents always said that I would make a great mother, and that kids love me, yet I can’t think of myself like that. Not now, at least. And that’s fine, I suppose. 

My phone vibrates again. I look down at it and sigh out of my nose. I pick up the phone and hit answer. ”Lindey?“

I shut my eyes. “Pat.”

We sit in silence for a moment. I hear him breathe and cuss. Words spew from his mouth. Patrick’s hit his word vomit, and things just keep coming and coming from his mouth. He doesn’t stop. It’s a jumble of why would you’s, I don’t understand Lins, and we should just go back to being friends.

“I can feel it. You’re uncomfortable.” He says quietly. His voice is like a whisper in the air. I shut my eyes, pulling the sleeves of my sweater to meet my palms. “You were uncomfortable and still you pushed yourself to do it and rather than facing me and telling me what was wrong, you just… you ran off.”

I stay silent, rolling onto my side and letting the frames of my glasses cut into my face. I attempt to drown him out, but my thoughts are no better. In fact, they’re worse, dragging back old memories and slurs and questions from classmates, friends and family. It’s normal to want sex, right?

Everyone wants it, at least at one point. But then, if you have too much, you’re labelled as a slut, and if you have too little, you’re a prude. If you let anyone touch you like that you’re suddenly easy; and if you let no one, you suddenly have rumours that you have a chastity belt on. If you lust after people, you’re a skank. If you don’t want anyone, you’re boring. And yet, there’s this sinking, awful feeling in my stomach, settling there now. The same one that came over me when Mom told me that she can’t wait  for me to have children or when Patrick said any guy would be lucky to have me.

“I don’t understand you Lindey.” He whispers into the phone. His voice is fuzzy and sounds as if he’s fading away, being pulled far from my reach. 

“I don’t understand me either,” I say at last.

He stays quiet for another moment, this time much longer. “Why did you ask me out then?” His voice gets a little bit louder.

“I don’t know why, Pat.” I say, raising mine in response.

“Lindey,”

I don’t say a word.

“Do you think we should take a break? From each other, from this?” He asks. “Are we getting too heavy? I know we’ve been together for a while and said that nothing serious would come from this but-”

“I don’t know Patrick.” I say again. And suddenly, I’m the one with the word vomit, spewing out my life’s story. My world. My views. How I’ve felt forever; before adulthood, before adolescence. Before Patrick. 

I tell him how I never cared about the valentines I got in grade school, and how I stayed home for all the dances. I tell him of staying awake to watch television and finish a book instead of texting anyone. How when a friend said a boy looked hot, I would look and see nothing. About going to parties in high school and how I got stuck in the closet with another girl who kissed me for the first time. The times when my friends would The time where I went to prom by myself and ended up leaving with someone. About the indifference to losing my virginity and being called a slut for it. How I when on a sex spree to try and see if I could feel something, anything like what my friends constantly spoke of. And then, then is when I tell him, in my quietest voice possible about how in first year college, I slept with my roommate twice and then moved on to the boy down the hall of my residence. And how that boy eventually asked me out and how I ended up here with him; halfway been two cities, sleeping in the back of my car.

He doesn’t say a word. I hear the porch door creak loudly and his footsteps against the floorboards. At last, he speaks. “Lindey.” He says. “Do you think you may be ace?”

I blink several times, staring at the dashboard of my car. I draw a breath and shake my head. Patrick knows me so well, too well, perhaps. Reading my thoughts and in tune with my actions even if I’m not around him.

“What is that?” I ask.

“It’s asexuality. It’s where you don’t like anyone, in a sexual way.” He says.“It’s nothing wrong, it’s just how some people feel about romance and love.”

“But it doesn’t make sense. I love you.” I say, my voice growing slightly frantic. “If I’m that, how could I love you? That doesn’t wor-”

“I mean, it totally works. And it’s subjective to everyone.” He says quickly, grasping at works to make me feel better. “Like Jas. You remember Jasper Alucard, right? The guy who I was talking to back at the post office in town?”

I nod, thinking he can see me. “Yeah, I think I remember him.” I say unconvincingly. I do remember glancing back and seeing Patrick talking to some guy outside the post office when we were there earlier. I only remember long, raven hair and nothing more. I only saw his back.

“Well, he’s ace too, and he’s got a partner right now. It just depends on who you are. Like you can want to be in a relationship and still be ace!” He says, his voice soft but upbeat. “And maybe you’re that. Maybe you’re ace.”

I try to get his metaphor, but it’s lost on me. I don’t know Jas, and I didn’t see him. He’s nothing more to me than a half-assed effort on Patrick’s part to make me seem normal. But instead of his intention, I feel more alienated than ever. “So what? I’m a robot? I’m broken?” I ask, my voice cracks.

“Lindey,”

“Because right now it’s feeling like it, Pat. I… I feel broken.” I cry into my phone. I hiccup tears and shake as Patrick struggles to comfort me over the line. 

“Lindey. Lindey!” He yells. I swallow my tears and sniffle as he speaks. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare.” His voice is stern now. I hear him pace across the porch, the creaking of the boards under his feet. “You’re not broken for not wanting sex. You’re not a prude or some robot. You’re you. And you’re the girl I love.”

I fall silent again, my hands balling into fists as . “Lindey.” He says. “I love you. No matter who or what you are.”

I stay silent. My eyes well up. I know what’s coming. His voice has gone down in tone, becoming lower. He’s quiet. I can hear the waves lapping against the shore over the line. I hold my head in one hand, shutting my eyes tight. ”We should stop and figure things out. I think it’d be best if we-“

"We need to take a break.” I let a hiccup sneak into the conversation and then cover my mouth, sucking back a breath between my fingers. I part them slightly, allowing the words to creep through.. “I need a break. I need to figure myself out. That’s what you were going to say, and I agree.”

“You do? You’re not just saying that?” His voice grows quieter for a moment.

“Pat, I’m not. I’m certain.” I lie in a louder voice, attempting to hide that I’m crying. I swipe at my eyes. I attempt to hold myself together, keep myself from sobbing into the phone, begging for him or anyone to make myself make sense once again. I hate to lie to myself, to Patrick, but I can’t tell him that I want to keep going after I think – know – that  I’m ace. I feel like I’m living a lie, telling myself that I’m okay going to bed with him even though I don’t see that in him. “It’d be best for us, right? Get our lives together before going forwards?”

“You’re right.” He says. His voice is eerily calm, barely above a whisper. I hear a loon call on the other end, and the real thing in my other ear. I fill the silence: “I’ll get my stuff out of the apartment.”    

“Isn’t that a little extreme?” Patrick asks with concern.

“I mean, it’s apart of a break, right? I cut myself off from you, you cut yourself from me?” I say. Being ace and in a relationship feels so alien, so abnormal, unjust. I need to break away from him, I need to be alone.

“Right.” He says. “But where will you stay?”

“I’ll stay here until school comes back . Then I’ll go back to the city.” I say. “I’m sure I can find somewhere to stay.”    

“As long as you’ll be all right.” He says. I hide a sniffle and another sob under the guise of a cough. “Lindey… I love you.” He says.

I stay quiet. “And if we get our shit together, maybe we’ll try again?” He says. “At the end of the summer?”

I nod into the phone. “Yep. Okay.” I say. His voice becomes distant. The words slip out of my mouth “I love you too, Pat.”    

A moment passes and I feel dread pinch my nerves. Patrick takes a breath and then he breathes the words, “take care of yourself” and hangs up on me.