#this is about the snake in Dream’s house like I’d be fucking terrified and here comes man of the year with his ‘little nope rope’ ☹️☹️☹️

[dodgebolts]

I am in love with him

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #367

“i should warn you that you may fuck me, but chances are i’m gonna fuck you over”

Where was the last place you went for vacation? The beach. When was the last time you wore makeup? Halloween. Do you watch soaps or drama series? If so, which ones? Not currently. What’s your favourite tomato variety? I hate tomatoes. What was your very first pet like? Dad had a dog named Trigger when I was born, but I have no memory of her, so I'm excluding her. I consider our first family pet to be Chance, a cat my mom took in after finding her literally in the trash. She was... god, incredible. She was a loyal friend, and I can imagine no greater mother than she was (she legit fought off a rottweiler head-on to protect her kittens). She was so smart, so gentle, and just simply amazing. I'll always miss her. What was the best school project you remember doing? Looking back, despite the fact it TERRIFIED me before, that would be my senior project presentation. It was about snake misconceptions and fallacies, so I made a slideshow to present to the special ed class. I made drawings for them to color, word searches, all that kind of stuff. They were just the sweetest and seemed really into it. What’s your favourite type of fish to eat? None. What kind of an old person do you think you’ll become? I really... don't like thinking about this. Like I'm weak enough now at 25, I can't imagine how my, say, 60s would be. I hope and just about pray that my physical health will improve, but I'm just going to exclude that part entirely from this answer. Personality-wise and such, I have a feeling I'll be the quiet and sweet kind, the one that loves her (hopeful) spouse like crazy, and comes most alive on Halloween if I live in a place where children come trick-or-treating. I imagine I would LOVE that. I'd love to be the type that goes on morning jogs to help stay spry. Which well-known person’s death shocked you the most, if any? Steve Irwin and Chester Bennington might be tied. Both were so, so sudden. Steve was like, invincible to my childhood eyes, and when I heard about Chester's death, I thought it was just a sick rumor. Two amazing people that died way too soon. What’s the craziest colour you’d dye your hair? That would depend on personal opinions. I want to dye my hair LOTS of colors though, if that tells you anything. What’s the coolest hobby one of your friends has? Uhhhh. Idk. Name a video game you can play over and over again: Shadow of the Colossus. It's a pretty short game if you know what you're doing, and it's super relaxing to me and just so goddamn pretty to look at. Every time I've played it has just been a pleasant experience. Do you like meatloaf? Yeah, it's fine. How about Meatloaf? I know who he is, but I've never really listened to his music. Do you take time to do charitable work? If so, what do you do? No. ;_; Especially with all the free time I have, I really should... What is something that will make you laugh instantly? Okay, don't ask, but if I for a SECOND see that commercial of Mr. Clean dancing while he's cleaning, I will die because of memories. What is something you hope you will never inherit from a specific relative? Diabetes. It runs heavily in my family. Name a movie you wouldn’t watch solely based on its name: The Human Centipede. No. Thank you. Have you ever played in a stack of hay bales? No. What’s your dearest souvenir? The stuffed moose I got at Cabela's during a visit to Ohio. I named him Brownie, and he was my "childhood plushie" we all have. Is there a lot of graffiti around your neighbourhood? Not in the actual area I live in, but there are DEFINITELY places where it's a pigsty of distasteful shit. Have you ever made your own soda? (Soda Stream doesn’t count!) No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Have you ever been part of a theater group? No, that stuff doesn't interest me. What’s the most ecological thing you do? We recycle, and I also use metal straws. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. There is no fucking way I could do it. What’s your favourite board game? Why do you like it best? I like Clue just because of the mystery-solving factor, and I think it's kinda cool how you can think ahead and use other's findings to your own advantage to win the game pretty early. Besides English, what other languages can you speak? Some German. It's gotten pretty weak with neglect, though. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you’ve been? This is a complicated answer that I just don't feel like elaborating on. What’s the most freeing thing you’ve ever done? Letting Jason go. Have you ever had a restaurant dish that was made with bugs? If not, would you even want to try one? No, and I'm not interested. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? Honeysuckles. What has been your worst restaurant experience? Well, it's a fast food restaurant, but lemme tell you about my vegetarian encounter with Burger King. I ordered their veggie burger. Which they have. It's not a secret. These idiots gave me a bun with tomato and lettuce, and I think mayo on it, after sounding confused when Mom was ordering for me. Mom went back in there of course to tell them, and oh god was the manager pissed, lol. I got my veggie burger in the end. What’s the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? Some sexually inappropriate jokes can still get me sadly, lol. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? Not literally, but boy do I think depression counts. Do you ever compare your life to somebody else’s? If so, why? Y E P. I can't tell you why, I just... do it. I look at other's successes and am just like, "Why aren't I there yet?", and beat myself up about being a failure. What is a food item or a dish you absolutely cannot stand? Brussel sprouts, asparagus, runny eggs, many other things because I'm just mega picky. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? Just the spray paint kind that vendors like to do at the beach and stuff. I don't remember any I got, though. What does your favourite mug look like? It's black with a Markiplier quote on it, given to me by Sara. :') Do you ever read other people’s survey answers? Yeah! Friends', anyway. I love learning all the obscure things about them. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, specifically early morning, because it's better for my depression. Are you more comfortable as a leader or a follower? A follower that isn't afraid to speak up when I'm really against something. What is your favourite song right now at this very moment? I've been really into "7empest" by Tool lately, and the synthwave edit of "Voices" by Motionless In White. If you watched The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, who was your favourite character? I don't remember it well, but I think I liked the butler. Was there even a butler? Who was your first online friend? Emma. :') Do you have any plants in your home? No. If you wear makeup, what’s the most outrageous colour you use? I only ever use black. What was the last photograph you took? My cat being adorable while sleeping. <3 Have you ever submitted a video to Funniest Home Videos? No. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer? I absolutely hated it. Do you have a headache at the moment? Yes, actually. I've really been attacked by the Covid shot side effects. Are your parents still together? No, thank god. What was the last hot food you ate? I made a chicken and I think pesto (some Italian noodles, idk) Healthy Choice bowl for dinner last night. Have you ever seen a meteor shower? No. :( Do you ever feel afraid people will question your sanity? I'm sure people have before, and back then? Rightfully so. Which X Factor audition(s) was/were your favorite? Never watched it. Were you a straight A student in spelling and grammar? Always. It's so weird how it's gotten worse with time since leaving school, even though I write... Were you a straight A student in math? Yeah, no. I usually got Bs or Cs. What is your favorite shade of yellow? Pastel. I don't really like yellow. What is something you want to accomplish before you turn 30? Have a stable job. Are you afraid of getting yelled at? YES. Do you feel a connection to the moon? It's not something I think about, so not really, but I do believe all things in the universe are connected in some way. We are simply a part of nature, as all else is. What does your heart long for? Contentment in who I am and where I am in life. I know I also miss being in love. Do you know what your purpose in life is? We have no innate purpose; we make our own, and I want mine to be to show others that there is always hope for yourself in yourself, and also to spread the message of love of all animals. Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? Last year I didn't. I really should change that this go around. Have you ever seen a fox? Yes! They're a kind of rare sight here sadly, so when I had the opportunity to photograph a fox tragically as roadkill, it was a photographic experience I won't forget. God, I wanted to pet it (I obviously didn't), but I did talk to it about how beautiful (s)he was as I got some shots. I never had a harder time leaving one of those angels I've taken pictures of. Do you find Halloween fun or scary? FUN!!!!!! Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? Not at all. What do the trees look like where you live? I mean, there's a variety, but the staple that you see literally everywhere are pine trees. What is your dream vacation? Somewhere with mountains, clear lakes, cool weather, beautiful and various wildlife... What was the best vacation you’ve been on so far? Disney World as a kid. What is the best class trip you’ve been on? The zoo in the 5th grade. It was the one occasion I got to see meerkats. Did you like field trips when you were a kid? I lived for them. Do you find museums boring or interesting? I find science museums to be very, very fascinating. Art ones are great, too. What are three issues you are passionate about? LGBT rights, the pro-choice movement, and wildlife conservation, to name a few. Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? No. I'm not patriotic enough at all. What size is your bed? Queen. What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? When we were experimenting with my Klonopin dosage, I learned that 3mg was enough to knock me on my ASS. Do you like bath bombs? I mean they're pretty, but I wouldn't waste money on 'em. Who are your favorite small YouTubers? Yikes, a looooooot. But this also depends on what you think qualifies as "small." Most of my favorite "small" YTers are tarantula keepers or sub-1M let's players. Who are your favorite big YouTubers? Markiplier obviously, Snake Discovery, Good Mythical Morning (even if I don't watch them anymore, they are veeery dear to my heart and I will always support them), Sam & Colby... Again, there's a lot. When you don't watch TV and YT instead, you really get attached to a lot of them. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Would you believe me if I said Pussycat Dolls? haha Do you like Disney movies? Um, DUH. Were you ever in the popular crowd? No. Have you ever used an outhouse? UGH, at like childhood sports games, yes. I could NEVER nowadays, oh my god. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I think I have the creativity to, but not the dedication. Are there any foods that make you gag? Beans, for one. I just canNOT with them. It's a completely involuntary reaction. Have you ever had blonde highlights in your hair? I think I did? Who was the last person you video-chatted with? The lady who was seeing if I qualified for TMS therapy. Do you think sleeve tattoos look trashy? Definitely not, I love those. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? I don't actually want one, but if I did, I'd go to a serious professional to get THE Darkiplier smile. :') If u know u know. Do you have any stickers on any of your electronic devices? No. Do you think half blonde/half dark brown hair is attractive? It looks great on some people, but it's not my favorite combo.

[billdenbrough]

so, a while ago, @audraphillipps tagged this post with a tag saying that bichie were on ron/harry levels, and like... i have literally not stopped thinking about it since? i was talking to @neibolttrio when nat’s reblog popped up on my dash and i went completely feral (ara can confirm, and also was right there with me) bc there’s just like. so much there!!

i know i said in the neville/eddie ask that i tend to think mapping characters onto each other is reductive, and i stand by that (there’s a difference between loose parallels and trying to make them fit neatly, you know? and sometimes equating the characters isn’t the most effective way to express that), and it’s not even what nat was saying, but like. there are parallels

just to get the basics down: bill/harry, richie/ron

(which is interesting bc @benverlesbians and i were having a discussion (well, in tags) where i posited stan as logos and eddie as pathos, and bc jem is galaxy brain, she carried it home to position richie as ethos, and i stand by our choices, but for the golden trio, i’d put harry as ethos and ron as pathos and hermione as logos (like i think there’s other combinations that fit too, but i think this fits best for me), which is interesting. not bc i think the parallels need to map perfectly, but it’s just really fucking fascinating to me how people can shift in different contexts, like new dynamics lead to new positionings... [siken vc: what can you know about a person? they shift in the light. you can’t light up all sides at once] anyway tangent over)

like on the most basic of levels, bill leads his friendship group, and richie is his Loyal Best Friend who follows him everywhere, even places he doesn’t want to go (ron LITERALLY invokes the idea of following. “follow the spiders,” he says, twelve and terrified and going anyway, because harry’s going, because hermione’s hurt and needs them, because hagrid’s been accused, because ron loves his friends)

i think something we don’t talk about super often (at least recently, i don’t want to presume about earlier content i missed) is how anger plays its part in bill’s story, in terms of the degree to which it motivates his quest to kill It. like at one point in the book he even frames it as “using his friends, risking their lives — to settle the score for his dead brother”, which i think is indicative of the anger/desire for revenge that drives it (and that’s not all that motivates him, but it’s definitely a major component)—-that sense of revenge isn’t present as much in the films, mostly because bill is desperate to try hold onto the idea that georgie is still alive (haha, harry after sirius goes through the veil, anyone?), but it’s still there, i think, mostly in the moments bill charges off (even when all his friends are shouting at him to wait or not go) bc he’s so determined that It won’t get away, not this fucking time. and that’s something true of harry too, the way his anger can consume him. we see it throughout the whole series, but order of the phoenix is the most relevant part rn, with how enraged he is after sirius’ death. how gasping and jagged and burning with fury he is. he tries to hurt bellatrix, wants to hurt her in ways we’ve never seen from him, and it’s desperate furious grief leading him to chase her from the room with the veil. and there’s a line, a little later, that always hits me in the chest: when harry is shouting I DON’T CARE and destroying dumbledore’s office, the reply is “you care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it”. which honestly is just generally applicable to the losers, given how much heart they have and how much trauma they endure, but i look at baby book bill, with his revenge-seeking, and i look at jaeden’s bill, with his trembling voice but resolute expression as he gives the “walking into this house is easier than walking into my own” speech, and this quote hits me in the chest

(wrt the bill quote abt risking their lives: it’s important, i think, bc it’s incredibly cognisant of what he’s asking, which is illuminating. but ig to balance it against some things losers say, so that it’s... like he leads them there, absolutely, but they all follow him, and that’s important too. they do choose to, and their choice matters, it’s not just on him. anyway something eddie says, while looking at bill (and it’s not like. in the context of dying for bill’s quest, but it’s got the love and hero worship mention that suggests it applies to more than just the moment), “some stuff has to be done even if there is a risk. that’s the first important thing i ever found out i didn’t find out from my mother”. also, when the werewolf has bill, he’s shouting for richie to go, to get out, and richie stays and tries to save him instead. and i think both their choices there matter)

richie, as much as he Jokes, is one of the more pragmatic and resourceful losers, and really fucking smart, and so often underestimated. (hello, master strategist ron weasley. hello, prefect who literally nobody expected. hello, insecurity) like... we all know how richie is brainy, but also, like. when he’s not clouded by his own fears, he sees things with clarity so sharp it could cut you. (“It’s a monster,” Richie said flatly. “Some kind of monster. Some kind of monster right here in Derry. And it’s killing kids.”) there’s a line, bill says it when talking abt richie and eddie in fights, and it’s about how richie simply can’t keep his mouth shut, like he has to insult bowers, even when he’s got his hands on him. which is actually pretty harry energy, but ron’s the closest thing amongst any of the hp characters to a trashmouth, ron’s the one who doesn’t hesitate to be rude on behalf of his friends (harry tends to be worked up when he says these things; ron’s just naturally got that energy. “light reading? that’s light reading?” is the same energy as “can only virgins see this? is that why i’m not seeing this shit?” don’t @ me), ron’s the one who drags harry for filth when he’s being an idiot. ron follows harry, even when he’s mad about it. and boy oh boy. richie is ambitious, richie is always practicing his Voices because he wants them to be worth a damn one day, richie is constantly trying. and ron’s erised is based in simply wanting to stand out in a family full of people he thinks are more interesting or valued than him, amongst best friends who are more incredible, which is a different motivation, sure, but look at his dreams. look at how high he rises when he lets himself want it. richie’s always doing Voices because it’s easier to Pretend to be someone else than be himself, and ron is constantly scrabbling for purchase in a world where he thinks he’ll never be worthy

(there’s room for discussion about how ron’s fears are primarily creature based—spiders, werewolves, the grim; how sirius hurt him, even unintentionally, how he was betrayed by peter, how his father was attacked by a snake, how his brother was attacked by a werewolf—and how richie has his famous werewolf, but that’s more abstract of an analysis than i’m doing here, i’m just thinking about the parallels, so this is more throwing a thought out.)

and, boy oh boy. my favourite part of this. i mean, we get ron and harry always together (consider: neibolt house (in the book, when bill and richie go there; in the film, when they’re confronting the doors, separated from eddie) as their chamber of secrets), them being best friends, ron having harry’s back even against his own family (ron angrily tearing up percy’s letter and calling him a git, esp after harry doesn’t know how to react in a way that doesn’t show how much it upsets him, has my entire fucking heart), harry having ron as “what [he’ll] sorely miss”... but. but but but. we also have the goblet of fire fight. even more crucially, we have the blow up in deathly hallows. they fight, they fight, and it’s bad. harry and bill you could compare a little with their focus, ig, but the crucial part is ron and richie. ron throws harry’s parents in his face when he’s terrified for his family (and under the influence of a horcrux); richie says georgie’s dead and for the first time all film, doesn’t take it back, not when eddie’s gone and stanley’s terrified and ben’s leaking blood and richie doesn’t want to die, doesn’t want his friends to die. it’s best friends fighting viciously, with something too sharp to hold—-it’s words that cut like knives, fists in the middle of the street and leaving when they’ve always followed you.

but. it’s also coming back. when harry needs him, ron is there. they haven’t had a chance to talk about anything, but ron is saving him. when bev goes missing, when bill goes to richie, even though thing are still fractured, still angry, richie comes back. richie follows. even when they haven’t talked about anything as far as we can tell, even when there’s no resolution to their fight, richie’s the one who stands up and makes the choice that mobilises the losers, the one who tells bill everything bad that’s happened from following him but follows him yet again, doesn’t leave him behind, stays and saves him. it’s about the coming back, the saving, the i’d follow you anywhere of it all. like god but georgie/bill is the dynamic that informs chapter one & richie/bill is the dynamic that drives it // lily/harry is the dynamic that informs the hp series but ron/harry is the one that bookends it—-the first person he ever chooses, who ever chooses him in return, and he’s right there at the end, when all is well. billrichie ronharry best friend RIGHTS

not really part of this but other things that make me scream: bill and richie on silver when richie’s catatonic/harry and ron when ron’s out of it bc of the brains (and also, now that i think abt it, injured from sirius’ bite). ron clinging to harry’s side in the forbidden forest w aragog/“i’m stickin’ with you, big bill”. ron imitating harry’s parseltongue to get to the chamber of secrets, taking hermione down the path they took/richie remembering confronting the doors with bill, trying to take eddie down the path they took.

[purplesurveys]

797

What is your favorite thing to do on your phone? Fucking around on social media like a true Gen Z-er would, lmao. I have several games that I’d play occasionally, but most of the time I just check the same three apps – Messenger, Facebook, and Twitter. Do you know what you are going to be for Halloween this year? If so, what? I don’t even know if I have plans for the rest of the year. Do you still go trick-or-treating, and if so, how old are you? The last time we did was 2015, when we were 17. Nowadays we just have costume parties. Which Disney princess resembles you the most? At the moment it’s probably Moana, but I heard they’re making a Southeast Asian Disney princess so I’m waiting for her :) What color was your first phone? I’m not sure what the model’s actual color was because it was already in a Winnie the Pooh case when I got it as a present, but the case itself was red.

Was your first phone a flip phone? No, it was one of the Nokia ones with a slightly green screen and the Snake game on it. Have you ever butt dialed someone? I don’t think so. It’s normally the other way around. What is your favorite pizza parlor? We don’t have many of that around here; most places serve a little bit of everything with pizzas usually having its own section on the menu. That said, my favorite place to get pizza is Mama Lou’s if I have some cash on me and want to be fancy, and Yellow Cab if I want fast food pizza but still quality pizza. What is an old website that closed down that you miss? I’m pretty sure Tumblr shut down my old survey blog, the one I’ve had since 2012 or 2013, and I’m very bummed out by it. It’s also weird to me because I have a blog that’s been inactive for much longer and that one is still up... so I don’t know why they would shut down the blog that served as my journal during my teen years. I occasionally look back on it to see how I was doing then and compare it to who I am now, so it sucks that I can’t do that anymore. If you're a girl, have you ever had an embarrassing period story? I guess, but I’ve also reached a point where I’ve stopped seeing period mishaps as embarrassing. Stuff like that just happens sometimes, and I can’t be around people who are going to be babies about it. ...If so, what happened? The worst instance was leaking during a PE workout and my classmate pointing it out for me, and then having to change into denim jeans for the rest of the workout since that was the only other pair of bottoms I had.  What was your worst experience in high school? I can remember one but I don’t wanna relive my anxieties here by writing it in full detail so no thanks. What was your high school's mascot? We don’t have a mascot; we only had colors. Do you listen to Grace VanderWaal? Only if she’s on the radio. I don’t dislike her but I also don’t think I’ve ever looked up her music voluntarily. ...if yes, what's your favorite song of hers? I’m not familiar with her song titles. I’ve caught some songs that I liked but I wouldn’t be able to tell you which ones they were. Do you watch America's Got Talent? Only the compilation videos they’ve got on YouTube. Which country has the best accent? I don’t really rank accents lol Did you cry at your high school graduation? I cried the night before. I find that I don’t usually cry when an event that’s supposed to be emotional is happening, but I do cry before or after it. Did you cry at your college graduation (if applicable)? LOL if applicable, fucking same. I think I’ll mostly be relieved when it finally happens because I’m expecting it to keep getting postponed for now. Do your parents try to stop you from chasing your dreams? No, but they’re also realistic. I tried to court my dad about having an internship with WWE at Connecticut, and he was less than enthusiastic about it which I completely understood. What dreams have stuck with you since childhood? My dream house, to go to Wrestlemania, and to have a lot of money hahaha. Who is a former friend that you wish would come back into your life? Egh, I feel like the way life has turned out has been for the best and I’m currently not wishing any of my former friends back. I suppose it would be nice to have my relationship with Macy back, though. Have you ever been in a serious romantic relationship? Yes, like the one I’m in now. Who was your favorite Spice Girl? I didn’t have one but I did have a soft spot for Victoria Beckham since she’s always in fashion magazines and also because her family has always looked so happy. But I never really liked her as part of the group? because I knew about Victoria before I knew about the Spice Girls. Sorryyy please put your pitchforks down I was born in 1998 :(( <333 Did you ever want to be in a band or music group? No. What instrument did you play in the marching band? We don’t have a club like that here. If you could take any one type of dance class right now, what kind you take? Ballet. Who got kicked off of your favorite talent show that you were mad about? There were a gazillion unfair eliminations on American Idol but I remember being most pissed off over Scotty McCreery’s win and Pia Toscano’s elimination. Do you own the entire series on DVD of any TV show? If so, what? I have a bootleg box set of the 80s sitcom Perfect Strangers, but other than that I’ve been able to watch TV shows via torrent or Netflix, soooo. What show did you always want to be on when you were a kid? I wanted to be a part of the dancing audience on Hi-5, and to be dumped with slime at the Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards lol. Can you tell the difference between Mary-Kate and Ashley? No. Who is your favorite set of twins? Seoeon and Seojun from The Return of Superman. What is the stupidest baby name you have heard recently? Welp, nothing has beaten Covid Bryant yet... What is the grossest thing you have ever vomited up? Nothing too gross. Just alcohol. Have you ever thrown up in public, in front of someone else? Yes. The sensation of puking terrifies me so there’ve been a few times I asked Gabie to go to the Pop-Up washroom with me, enter a stall also with me, and to calm me down while I throw up D: ...If yes, was it embarrassing? I don’t find it embarrassing because she’s my girlfriend. I’d never ask anyone else to do the same thing for me though. Did you ever take your dog to school? Just once, for my graduation shoot. Name one person you know who had a baby in high school. No one in my batch had a baby while in high school, just shortly after. I’m not naming them but one of them already has three kids, one has a boy, and another one also has a boy. Do you keep a list of your favorite quotes? No. Describe your dream wedding in three words. Lots of food. What is your favorite Chinese restaurant? Tim Ho Wan or King Bee. Does Chinese food make you feel sick? No. Well Filipinos are kinda used to Chinese food, so it would be odd for us to get sick from it. Have you ever seen someone throw up on a plane? Fortunately no. But on a boat and a ship, yes. Do you get motion sickness? Yes, easily.

I’m just going to ignore the next seven questions because I’m tired of entertaining questions like these. Has God ever healed you of anything? If so, what? Do you believe in God? Do you pray, and if so, to whom? What is the most boring church you have ever attended? What is the most lively church you have ever attended? Do you find church fun or boring? When was the last time you went to a church service? When did you learn to ride a bike? I haven’t learned yet. I’ve had a few lucky rounds but they never lasted for more than five seconds. What do you hate the most about summer? The weather. Certainly not as fun when there’s no breeze from the beach complementing the heat. What is your favorite thing to do in a swimming pool? Stay away wherever most of the people are because it’s a little gross. Which part of your body is the most muscular? I don’t know. Do you like sugar skulls? No. Have you ever painted a sugar skull on your face? I probably had it done as a kid. Are you an artist? No. Did you ever take Latin in school? No but we were taught French very briefly because the foundress of my old school is from France. The lessons didn’t really catch on. What was the last race you ran called? I’ve never been in a race/marathon/walkathon before. Do you prefer to run in the street or on the sidewalk? Side of the street. Sidewalks are pretty inconsistent so I’m more likely to trip running on it. Which major holiday is closest to your birthday? Easter is always very near or exactly on my birthday.

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 14

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13

here we go! some answers are revealed, but with more answers come more questions... obviously ;) please don’t hesitate to like/reblog if you enjoy it and share how you feel here. Lowkey but highkey the reason i post this story is to interact with you guys and hear your responses! lots of la-la-la-lovvvee xx

I didn’t need to see anything in the crowd. For up on the wall, between collectors’ paintings was a vacant space.

The family portrait was gone.

And in its place was a snake that matched the one I’d seen tattooed on skin, the same snake that had been wrapped around my neck...

The police urged Mrs. Styles to shut down the party, but no man in uniform was tougher than her will to put on a show. The crowd lingered, more intrigued than frightened by the drama, no doubt wanting to carry on what they’d witnessed first-hand to their social circles on the other side of the gate.

Harry requested a Lyft immediately after to take me home. I cancelled it, unwilling to leave and wanting to hear what the police could make of it. Mrs. Styles showed them less concern than she did the caterers, and entertained them ten minutes tops before shooing them out. She gave a statement and allowed them to interview some staff, but then they were gone. Everyone else had been at the auction.

Even Harry, apparently. I’m not sure why he lied, but there must have been a reason. The officers had looked at me to confirm, and I felt Harry’s eyes on me as I nodded. I lied, too.   

I stayed long enough to see the auction resume. The foundation hadn’t suffered either, nearly raising a million by the end of the night. One of the prizes? A date with Mary’s sole prized son. His eyes remained locked on mine at the head of the podium as the eager socialites bid to set up their daughters or their neices. Maybe they were bidding for themselves to escape their husbands for the night. At the top of the podium, people threw money at him like a commodity. I knew it was for a larger cause, but the smile he threw on wasn’t the one I’d seen in the moments we were together. It was the one for show, the one that put people at ease and didn’t cause anymore probing questions. It came second-nature to him; it was a second skin, a mask like the one that covered his face, but stunning nevertheless.

He couldn’t meet my eyes when the final bid was placed. $4,500.  

Viv won.

I let him call the Lyft for me after that.

Even back in my dorm with the company of Renny’s gentle snores, I didn’t sleep a wink. I also didn’t ask Harry about his lie, or the gun. I let its image sit there, in my mind, turning over and over. The cool silver glinted each time I closed my eyes, the branding of the snake tattoo appearing in the shadows of my room whenever I tried to open them. It even overpowered my jealousy of Viv.

 I didn’t dream my nightmares that night. They were lucid.

 Spindly creatures didn’t exist in this world, but I didn’t know which world was scarier anymore.

 The attack on their home wasn’t something I could reconcile unless it was something personal. There were thousands of dollars worth of furniture, vases, and paintings - yet they stole a family portrait. Which, unless you were obsessed with stoic family poses, was neither a lucrative nor smart object to steal.

 Was there a deeper connection?

 A memory from that night crawled its way out of the crevices and smacked me in the face. I hadn’t realized I’d had it stored away, but suspicion had a funny way of bringing up memories.

 That rainy night outside of Kean’s, I’d called for Harry when I’d walked out of the bathroom. Of course, it hadn’t been Harry.

 But the stranger had said something that didn’t sit right.

 Haven’t heard that name in a while.

 Hadn’t heard that name in a while…

 The sentence echoed over and over.

 One way it could be explained - everyone had heard of the Styles. Maybe this was a threat, a warning that they’d hurt their family unless they coughed up some cash. Maybe there was no deeper connection. And if there was…

 For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why the elite star boy of the beach community would be associated with rapist thugs.

 “Are you okay?”

 “I’m fine,” I said for the millionth time. “Stop asking me that.”

 Harry’s eyes were red. He rubbed them, probably as sleep deprived as me.

 I could tell he wanted to ask me again, but he took a sip of iced coffee instead. Maybe if he heard I’m okay again, this time he’d believe me.

 I wouldn’t.

 I watched his fingers toy with his lips while peers watched us sit outside Starbucks. They were probably concerned with midterms next week, unaware of the complete mess of thoughts churning my stomach and leaving my croissant half-eaten.

 I pulled off a buttery flake. I missed the old me. The old me would’ve been the passing peer, and in any other alternate universe that was normal and made sense, I would be watching Harry sit with a sorority girl with perfectly curled hair as I stress ate 10 croissants and worried about how to cram-write a 15 page historical essay and study for a biology exam in 12 hours.

 “You can come to mine tonight. It’s dead at the house until the weekend so it’ll be quiet to study.”

I nodded. The frat house... Maybe I could talk to him about it then. Here, in this coffee shop, he seemed like the frat star college student everyone knew him as. At night in his room, maybe I could reconcile this person with who I knew outside of campus, too. The boy who was soft, who hurt, who had an entire mystery of a life inside that mansion.

 I’d accepted I was different than who I was before him. Was he different before me?

 When he pulled at his lip again, he noticed me staring and a familiar gleam lit his eyes. He looked at me in a way that made my cheeks burn and my heart surge. Muscle memory was strong, and even though he was sitting across the table, I suddenly felt him pressed against me.

 Maybe there was another reason he’d recommended the frat house.

 My phone buzzed, giving me an excuse to look away. I checked the name, ignored it. He was looking at me again, observing, waiting for me to admit what was really going on in my mind when he must know what was bothering me… He just wasn’t brave enough to bring it up himself.

 And I wasn’t ready to be the first.  

 “You know, I’m not always going to be so readily available for you. I’m a modelling girl now, my schedule’s filling up.” I threw a dramatic hand to my forehead and he fought a smile.

 “S’that right?”

 I nodded, and that’s when his brows pinched.

 “Wait, are you really modelling?”  

 “Okay, gee, don’t look so surprised. A friend of mine needed a replacement model who had more ‘life.’ And I’m just full of that, so, it worked out.”

 My phone vibrated again.

 “Zayn?”

 “No. It’s my mom...” Begging to get the details from that photo I’d sent her of Harry and I last night. I was too in awe of the decor, the gowns, and just being there to not share it with her. It’d actually been something I’d wanted to remember until it all went to shat.

 “I meant your friend. Who’s the artist?”

 “Oh, Zayn.”

 “Oh.”

 An awkward silence settle, and I picked at another buttery flake.  

 “I’m sure he’ll do an amazing job,” he said. But he looked away when he said it, and I heard the restraint in his tone.  

 “I don’t know why you don’t like him.”

 “It’s not just me.” He leant back in his chair, stretching his arms back until the muscles flexed. “I never knew him until here, but because he’s from England s’just…” He shook his head. “Look, I don’t know how to explain it, I’m not trying to be a dick.”

 Said every dick ever. But maybe I could overlook it.

 “Tell me.”

 “He just doesn’t give me good vibes.”

 “How California of you.”

 “I-” he stopped, sighed. He wrestled with the true answer he’d held all along, reluctantly giving it up. “He acts like he knows things about me. Like he knows who I am when I literally haven’t said a single word to him.”

 “You don’t like how friendly he is?”

 “It’s not a happy, familiar, I know you. S’like he looks at me and sees parts of me I don’t...”

 “Show?”

 The look in his eyes told me I was right, but he didn’t say it.  

 “Maybe he’s just intuitive,” I continued.

 “Maybe he’s just fucking weird.”

 “Harry…”

 He shrugged, unapologetic, and drew a long sip from the black coffee. For the boy who had a beautifully deceitful exterior hiding a million layers he never let anyone see, it must have taken a lot for someone to get under his skin.

 Was the thought of being seen that terrifying?  

 “Shit, I have practice.”

 I nodded, not as disappointed as I thought I’d be. I had a lot on my plate today. Biology papers, work, stopping by the studio…

 I stood up a little after him.

 “Thanks for the croissant, and the tea.”

 “Of course,” he said.

 We walked out in silence, and I wonder if he was as lost in thought as I was. Before we parted, he turned to me.

 “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 I popped a hip, putting on my best tough-girl act.

 “I-” I stopped, sighed. The tough-girl acted lasted a whole whopping two seconds as I debated on telling him the truth I’d been hiding. I knew he was genuinely concerned, and I knew that if I didn’t fess up this was going to keep bothering him. Just like him, I caved. “Not really.”

 “I knew it.” - he looked away, tugging at his hair before letting his hand fall - “I swear, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

 But there was a slight desperation to his voice, and I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

 I nodded anyway. I didn’t realize I’d been looking at the ground until he leaned lower, trying to meet my eyes.

 “I’ll see you later?”

 “Later,” I affirmed.

 He punched my shoulder lightly, and it took everything in me not to literally guffaw. Had he really just-? Again???

 Lighter fluid of pure annoyance fueled an angry fire in my eyes. But he didn’t flinch; nothing about him seemed apologetic for the action.

 Last night his hands touched me very differently.

 Last night, he wasn’t a buddy who shoulder punched me.

 Did something change again in the blink of an eye? Then again, his unpredictability was becoming predictable. And a lot could change overnight. I certainly hadn’t been filled with this sick foreign confusion yesterday.  

 And if this confusion was actually suspicion, I didn’t even know of what.

 I didn’t hesitate to walk away, hoping that leaving so abruptly would be a GIANT NEON SIGN that he’d just done something wrong, knowing that even if it would, one of his thousand stubborn layers would never bring him to acknowledge it.

 ------

 A waft of Chinese food overpowered the smell of humid sweat for a moment and it wasn’t as disgusting as I thought it’d be. In fact, my stomach growled in response.

 I saw his glistening smile before the takeout bag. He came over to where I was sanitizing the examination table and sat down, wincing when he realized it was still wet. He held up the bag, and the smell of orange chicken was stronger.

 “For you.”

 He waggled his eyebrows.

 And for the first time in what felt like a long time, I smiled.

 “Shut. Up.”  

 Seconds later, Matt was laying on his back in the chair, and I’d set the Chinese aside for the foam roller. I leaned against it with all my weight as I rotated it upwards, soothing the tense muscles in his back.

 “You really don’t have to do this everytime you come in, I’m starting to feel bad,” I said with a mouthful of chicken. Though really, it didn’t make me feel bad at all. Some of my distressing confusion actually lifted with his presence. Or maybe it was the thought of free food.

 “You have to smell other people’s sweat and deal with bloody injuries at least once a week. I don’t think I’m the one you should be feeling bad for...”

 He sucked in a breath through his teeth as I hit a particularly tender spot.

 I bit my cheek, trying so very hard not to laugh at how brutally accurate it all was.

 “Alright, if you’re gonna talk like that you can bring me a steak dinner next time.”

 “I’m not so sure that’s a takeout thing.”

 “Yeah, yeah, get out of it how you can.”

 He struggled for the Chinese box and held up a spoonful of chowmein behind his back. I moved up just enough where I could clamp my mouth around it.

 I placed extra pressure by his shoulder blade and he drew in a breath. “Sweet...torture…” he squeaked.  

 “You don’t have to put up with my torture anymore,” I said, rolling back down. I was sweating. Forget going to the gym, this was exercise enough.  

 “It’s not torture! It’s- you’re fine.” An awkward apology came stumbling out. “It just hurts in the moment, but it’s a good pain.”

 “No, I mean…” For some reason, it felt weird admitting this to him. “I’m not going to be working here much longer. This week’s my last week here.”

 His muscles tensed a little, and I slowed my roll. Literally.

 “Oh, really? Why? Did you get fired?”

 “Noo, nothing like that. I actually got an internship.”

 There was silence as I worked his lower back. I focused harder on the way the foam roller pushed against the muscle, building and pinching, til it finally rolled over.

 I knew I’d still see him around. Less, that’s for sure. But still… around. I stopped, grabbing some ice packs for his calf muscles, ignoring the fact that he still hadn’t said anything.

 “Where’s it at?” he asked after a solid minute of silence.

 “Coast Shores Medicine.”  

 “The one on TV?”

 “That’s the one.” One Google search and the practice had popped up, along with its link to the reality show Housewives of OC. I remembered Ben telling me Mary Styles used to be a housewife and the notoriety that surrounded the Styles name surprised me less and less.

 “That’s going to be different.”

 I let out a short laugh. “Yeah, but it won’t be too bad.”

 Matt, always a bundle of optimism didn’t hesitate to say, “It’ll look great on your resume.”

 And there it was, the real reason behind this. The whole reason behind anything we did. Something else for the resume, something else for a piece of paper, something else to belong, something else to make another approve of my life’s existence. But-

 “Yeah. It’ll be fun,” I said, strapping the ice packs down.

 “Bet no one’s gonna bring you takeout though.”

 I heard the smile in his voice, and when he looked over his shoulder, there it was. All gleaming white teeth and shining blue eyes.

 And for a second, I wanted to take it all back. To say I was kidding. To stay here. To not change another part of my life that seemed to be turning into something I wasn’t quite sure I wanted it to be.

 “You’re going to do great,” he said, somehow knowing what I needed to hear without me uttering a word.

 Maybe if our families hadn’t been tied since birth, it would have been different for us. Maybe he would’ve been bringing me spring rolls to my dorm room and I would’ve been in Matt’s dad’s shop, helping where I could.

 Maybe I should stop overthinking everything and just accept everything as it was and stop thinking of parallel universes.

 Maybe, maybe, maybe...

 I wanted to give him a definite response. I wanted to say, I would be okay because I know I would be okay.

 But the largest part of me didn’t know what the future held, and somehow I still needed to be okay with that.

 ----------------

 The frat house looked a lot different than the last time I’d been there. I could hardly believe that it was the same place.

 The lawn wasn’t littered with people swaying, confessing embarrassing things to acquaintances they’d pretend not to know the next day in History class. The yard was vacant - except for two boys with hats hung low with trash collecting picks, looking like they’d just suffered from a major night out. They didn’t even look up when I passed.

 Bits of the paint were chipping off the door, and my booties stuck to the pavement that’d accumulated a healthy layer of spilled beer.

 I knocked, but nobody answered, so I walked in anyways. I was actually more nervous than if the living room had been full with bodies pressed together. I was alone, nobody to hide from, the impending conversation looming in my mind. The dance floor was back to looking like a living room. Two couches with suspicious stains were haphazardly placed to create space for a table - a bong as the centerpiece and ashes in place of a tablecloth.

 It was so different from his sparkling mansion. The frat house was clearly lived in, but I wonder if he really felt at home here.

 “Hello?” I creeped up the stairs, but nobody walked out. An open window carried in the sound of students walking to their next class. Had I gotten the time wrong?? It was too quiet. Without warning, my nightmares blended into the frat house. No one was here. My feet moved faster, faster, carrying me towards the room.

 I gasped when I saw him standing outside his door. “Shit.”

 His lips quirked into a half-smile. “You okay?”

 I looked at him casually leaning against the door in his joggers, breathless. It was pointless acknowledging the question.

 Compared to the rest of the house, Harry’s room looked pristine. Madame Bovary and his English notes were already sprawled across his creaseless bedspread, but he pulled at the corner of it anyways while I sat at his desk. I swiped my finger along the top, lips curling at the layer of dust on it.

 “I go to the library.”

 “Mhm.”

 He tugged at his t-shirt collar, mildly clearing his throat. “Not sure where you want to start.”

 I nodded.

 “There’s a lot to cover.” He lowered his head, looking over the bridge of his nose, that silly masked smile toying on his lips - but just like a mask, it didn’t hide his eyes. They were redder than before, and I almost felt bad at how tired he must be.

 It looked like I wasn’t the only one who didn’t get any sleep.

 He toyed with the bedsheet again, and I realized I hadn’t said anything.

 “There is a lot to cover.” My heart beat faster, and I had no idea how to bring up the gun. Would he be angry with me for snooping? Was it wrong of me to have done so? But then again, why the heck had he locked me in the room? “Where do you want to start?”

 He paused, just like I had. A thousand possibilities rushing through my mind,

 but he lifted up the book,

 and I wilted.

 You would think it’d be hard to study an entire half-semester’s worth of work for a class that met three times a week and a professor that filled up at least five pages of notes per session. But with enough willpower to avoid silence, Harry and I managed to study nearly all of it.

 Which, to help clarify just how much of a task it was, the only study guide we’d been given were seven sample essay questions - three of which were to be written in class after the short answer portion.

 We’d jotted notes down of themes, character developments (and lack thereof), and pretty much exhausted the entire book cover to cover. Which, was especially hard to do, being that close to a sex god and all. Even more especially, when that sex god had almost had his fingers inside of me less than a day ago.

 If I was antsy to talk about the masquerade ball before, exhaustion made me question whether or not it was even worth it. The sun had long past set, and the soft glow from Harry’s lamp cast a dreamy hue to the room that made my eyes strain to make anything out. He was unreal as a human anyways, add exhaustion and mood lighting to the mix and it’s like the gods just cast him out of heaven.

 Given my frazzled bun and hoodie with a hole near the armpit, one could say I found this to be completely unfair.

 I set my pen down as soon as my stomach growled.

 “Shit,” Harry suddenly leapt up, bounding out the door. He stopped just before he disappeared and craned his neck back. “I’ll just be a minute.”

 “Uh, okay,” I let out a nervous laugh, but he’d already walked away. I leant back in the chair; it felt nice to be alone in his room. A little weird, but nice.

 My fingers thrummed on the desk. They stopped when I saw what was on the top shelf. Did he take these from Mary?

 I reached for them without thinking, turning them over in my hand. The little white tablets shook together as I tried to find a label for them.

 Who needed this many?

 I suddenly became aware of a frozen frame behind me.

 He didn’t stop me from reading them, but I turned, embarrassed for snooping. He’d stepped closer, and I could feel the heat rolling off his body, the chiseled chest hidden behind a black sweater just a book’s width away. Any thoughts I had became mush. Too close, too-

 my ankle hit the desk when I stepped back. “I’m sorry. I was just… I was just curious.” There was a sad acceptance in his eyes when he nodded. It was so soft, I wondered if I’d imagined it. “Do you struggle with sleeping?” I asked, tone void of teasing.

 “Kind of.” Careful eyes searched mine for a reaction. Even with his desk lamp, his green eyes were dark, a thick forest that didn’t let in the light.  

 Xanax and Valium were serious sleeping pill. When my hippie aunt would come back from one of her many trips from Mexico, she’d bring Valium back by the bucketful (selling the pills as well as her psychic services). My dad bought from her, but even she cautioned him about the intensity of it. I didn’t recognize the other label, but I was assuming it was equally strong, if not more so.

 I bit the inside of my cheek.

 “I don’t really take them anymore,” he clarified.

 “You used to?” Frick. A tad too much curiosity there. Could’ve come off as judgey.  

 Harry stared off into somewhere behind me, my question triggering memories I’m not sure I’d like to see. “A lot of people take them anyway,” he said, coming back to me.

 “Really?” My back arched as I tried to create more space between us.

 He leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk on either side of me. His body moved slowly, but deliberately. Each calculated movement seemed second-nature to him. He nodded. “Sure. Want to see Niall’s desk?”

 The last time I was in Niall’s room… my cheeks flushed remembering our kiss. It was so long ago, such a stupid rash decision. But it was ages before Harry and I started… hanging out more frequently so I couldn’t blame myself for doing anything wrong. Still, if Renny ever found out I had “once upon a time” kissed her newfound obsession and that I never told her about it, I’d rather invest in a wig and move to Canada.

 Renny once delivered a package of literal dog shit to a girl who slid into her “once upon a time” friends with benefits’ dms.

 I shook my head quickly. “I mean I get nightmares all the time, I get why people take them.”

 “You have nightmares?”

 I bristled a bit. “Yeah, doesn’t everybody?”

 “Not the kind that require sleeping pills.” His head tilted back, an elitist of pain.

 “But a lot of people take them.” I spat his own words back to him, my biting tone not lost on Harry.

 “Ah, ah,” he chided. He pulled in a cheek, accentuating angled cheekbones. “That’s not why everybody takes them.”

 “Well if it helps nightmares-”  I mockingly twisted the cap between us until it “popped” but he snatched it from me. His hand took the place of the bottle, shooting an electric bolt up my arm. Leaning back against the desk, my legs stood between his, unable to take me away from his stone-cold stare.  

 “You’re not getting them from me Y/N.”

 “I was teasing,” I said, not moving my hand. “I wasn’t going to take any.”

 His calculated eyes searched mine for any hint of pill-popping desire, but I couldn’t handle the intensity.

 My eyes shot behind him. When I saw what was on the bed, I snorted. I couldn’t help it. In the grave intensity of the moment, I snorted. My hand flew to my nose. “Oh my gosh, are you serious?” I gestured to the plate atop his sheets.

 He backed up, tugging me with him. My heart fluttered, but he let go and stood back, crossing his arms instead. From the corner of my eye, I saw his feet scuff the flooring, suddenly unsure of his gesture. “You said you were hungry.”

 My side-smirk grew into a full beaming smile. I sat down on his bed, picking up the fork that was beside it. I debated about which spot would be the best to dive into. “Is this chocolate lava cake?”

 He’d only brought one fork. So… maybe I didn’t have to be to be conservative with my bites... He watched me shovel almost half the cake into my mouth with one bite. I moaned, not even embarrassed as a dribble of chocolate escaped my mouth. I moaned AGAIN, completely shameless, and fell back on his bed. Somehow, the experience of chocolate in Harry’s bed made it taste all the more delicious. “Ughhh dishh ishh amashhinnn!!”

 A breathy childish laugh escaped Harry, and it was so beautiful, I almost froze mid-swallow. He bit his lip, aware that the sound escaped him, but with no one else to observe it, he didn’t care.  

 “I don’t … want you missing out on things because of me.”

 “What do you mean?” I took another bite of the lava cake, letting the moist chocolate fudge slowly cover my tastebuds.

 “Exactly what I said.”

 The image of me running away from my pricey dessert at The Hilltop Resort flashed in my mind. I’d ran away from Harry that night because I saw him as a pretentious douchebag who thought money could get him any girl he wanted. He looked the same, and still had more money than I could comprehend, but stood before me now was a completely different person than the one I thought I knew.

 Harry could turn cold and distant in the blink of an eye, abandon me in photos and leave me feeling unwanted and embarrassed. But he could place an arm around my waist, remember the smallest details about me, and make a gesture that showed how thoughtful he could be. It was … infuriating. Unfair. Predictably unpredictable.

 I don’t want you missing out on things because of me.

 I hadn’t gotten to eat chocolate lava cake that night. Yet here it was, burning on the bed between us.

 “I think I’m experiencing more things now that I know you actually,” I swallowed slowly, the thick chocolatey goodness not the only thing melting.

 “I’m sure,” he said slyly. He reached down then, hand gently wiping a stray bit of chocolate on my chin.

 “Oops,” I laughed, enjoying this rare moment of levity.

 He licked his own finger clean, eyes fluttering dramatically. “S’damn good innit.” The bed dipped as he sat beside me, eyes never leaving my ridiculous smile. I had a feeling he was etching it to memory as he pulled my legs atop his lap like it was something we always did. Somehow, it kind of felt like it was.

 “So…”

 “Sho,” I mimicked, mouth still full of chocolate. My chewing suddenly seemed quite loud in the silence, and I cringed as I swallowed. There weren’t any napkins to be had… anywhere. With one bite left, I held it up to Harry to distract him from the chocolatey mess that was probably my face. He leant forward, eyes on mine as his full lips took the bite. I gulped again, but this time it had nothing to do with the fact that I had chocolate in my mouth.

 His strong hands pulled my legs closer ‘til I was practically in his lap, and my heart beat wildly against my ribs like caged finches smelling smoke. Traces of him - spice, warmth, and an undertone of rich cologne overpowered the chocolate, overpowered everything.

“Pulling me in for a shoulder punch?”

 He frowned, and I spotted a fleck of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. I swiped my finger along his pout, placing the stray chocolate in my mouth. Instead of mirroring my smile, his brows furrowed and he became a child as he leant his forehead against mine. “What are you doing to me.”

 I stood still, scared that if I moved, whatever spell that’d been cast in his mind would break.

 “Nothing you don’t do to me.”

 There it was. An admittance. An offering. And like all the times before, I didn’t expect him to take it.

 Foreheads still drawn together, his jaw jutted closer in temptation. He winced, pulled back.

 It was the push before the give.

 “We didn’t finish the last question on the study guide,” he murmured, but his hand spread to the small of my back. Heat swept through me, but I shivered at his touch.

 “Oh yeah?”

 “Mm,” he hummed. He leaned closer to peer at something over my shoulder and I swear my heart stopped as our chests touched. His hand stayed on my back, steadying me as he searched for whatever it was. I could feel his curls at the base of my jaw, and the warmth from his cheek so close to touching mine...

 “What’s your favorite quote from the book?” He pulled back, looking at me as though the next words I’d say would be his favorite too.

 But my brain was heavy, overworked. “I don’t know.” I rest my head on his shoulder for the briefest of moments before pulling myself up.

 His hands squeezed my sides. “M’serious, you might have to write an essay on your favorite quote. S’question seven.”

 I opened my mouth to say something, but shook my head instead. “I’m serious, I don’t have one memorized. Do you?”

 A cocky little smirk appeared on his face. “Of course.”

 “Of course,” I sighed. “Who’s tutoring who here?”

 “What, you don’t want to hear it?”

 “Oh no, I do, I’m desperate for it,” I leant forward teasingly, more pressure applied to my hips.

 He drew in a breath, screwing his eyes shut tight for a second. When they opened, they were a raging emerald green. “Careful.” Then, with all the nonchalance in the world, he rumbled, “She thought love must come suddenly, with great outburst and lightnings – a hurricane of the skies, which falls upon life, revolutionizing it, roots up the will like a leaf, and sweeps the whole heart into the abyss.”

 It took me a moment to realize that he was speaking from the book. He waited for a response, but any words I had flew out my mind somewhere between lightnings and abyss.

 “Not bad is it?” he said.

 This was his favorite quote? Coming from a boy who didn’t believe love could last?

 “Harry…”

 I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I didn’t need to figure it out. Voices rose from downstairs. I figured it was just the frat brothers, but Harry’s dreamy gaze cooled to calculation in an instant. My legs were moved to the comforter and he walked straight to the door, peering his head through the crack. He shut it gently, beckoned to me.

 “The cops are here. They probably just want me to answer a few questions,” he said lowly.

 “Really?!”

 I tried opening the door, but he spun me around. He pressed me against the wall, and for a brief moment I felt all of him. His hand snaked around my waist, and his lips dipped down to my ear.

 “I’ll be right back.”

 His entire body alit mine,

 And then he was gone.

 I’d been poured in gasoline but he didn’t stop to light the match.

 Too many times this week I’ve been left reeling, breathless, and a little too turned on in an empty room by one infuriating frat boy.  

 He was causing too much damage to be so small in the retrospect of the universe.

 I opened the door, softly, slowly. Three cops and two college admins were searching the place. While two spoke with Harry, another strayed from the group. He strolled around the floor, assessing the damage of parties past.

 I couldn’t make out everything, their voices too indistinct from a story away. Harry shook hands with the cops. One of them didn’t extend his, and Harry shoved it away in his back pocket.

 That was rude of them.

 Words were exchanged, but “charity” and “affiliation” were the only words I caught. The cops’ postures seemed relaxed enough, but their crossed arms and poker faces told me careful observations were in place. Was I going to be left here as they drove away for questioning? If this was about the charity ball, was Harry going to tell them any more of what happened? I’d seen that wild look in Gemma’s eyes, the way he’d leapt to his feet as soon as he saw it. He had to know more than what he’d shared.

 They passed Harry a paper I couldn’t make out, and his back tensed. The cops were in front of him though, so I doubted they noticed, but Rogue Cop walked closer to the stairs. Harry mentioned “familiar” - or was it “not familiar?” I couldn’t hear. The paper was passed back. More arms were crossed. Rogue Cop kept floating around, looking for something. Or someone?

 As if he knew, Rogue Cop’s eyes found the slit in the door, locking eyes with mine.

 I jumped away, adrenaline pumping when there was no reason for me to be nervous. My inner me threw up her arms, waving the white flag - I DIDN’T KILL ANYBODY! I’M INNOCENT!

 But a sinking feeling slammed her with a bus.

 I wasn’t completely innocent.

 I’d seen the snake tattoo before. I’d recognized it in the Styles’ home. I’d had it threaten my life, heard it recognize Harry.

 I’d never reported it. What would they think if I mentioned it now? Would I mention it now?

 And now did he think I was hiding?

 I picked up the study guide to busy my hands.

 A knock on the door.

 “You can come in!”

 He opened it, at first cautiously, but when he saw it was just a girl with some textbooks, his shoulders squared away.

 “Do you live here, miss?”

 “No-” I placed the study guide in my lap. “Is everything okay?”

 “That’s what we’re here to find out. I’d just like to ask you a few questions if that’s alright with you.”

 “Of course.”

 The sound of rushed footsteps coming up the hall made me glance to the door. Moments later, the faculty woman and another cop filed in. They smiled at me, easing my nerves in the slightest.

 “I’d like you to take a look at this. Have you seen this sign anywhere around campus?”

 The mysterious paper was placed in my hands. The bold image of the snake, fangs bared to the world, hissed at me through the sheet. A somber confirmation settled in my skin, my bones suddenly heavier. The outside chaos was being brought into the safety of university. My world off campus and my world here were colliding, as were Harry’s, and with the collision I didn’t know if a universe was being created or destroyed.

 “No. Not on campus.”

 That wasn’t a lie, technically. But Rogue Cop picked up on my specificity.

 “Have you seen this anywhere else?”

 “Yeah, in town.”

 “Where?”

 I cleared my throat. “Outside of a coffee shop downtown. It’s a small place. Kean’s.”

 The door creaked open wider, and Harry stood at the frame. His eyes met mine as soon as I said Keans.

 “Was it tagged? On the walls, on a jacket?” Rogue Cop’s eyes narrowed as he watched me gulp. I shoved my hands in my pockets, but there was something in there. My fingers twiddled with a cap when I realized it was a pill bottle.

 “No, I can’t, uh, I can’t remember. It was a long time ago.”

 Rogue Cop followed my gaze to Harry leaning against the wall. He wrote down my name, phone number, and e-mail.

 “We’ll be in touch.”

 A card was slipped into my hand and they thanked us for our cooperation. The commotion I’d been foolish to forget about just because of a chocolate distraction had just slapped me in the face with a badge attached.

 The presence the cops created left a vacuum of space Harry couldn’t fill. Alone again, he seemed smaller, like a child thrown in adult clothing. His hands covered his eyes at the foot of the bed as he sunk further into himself. This was a side of Harry I think I could have lived forever without seeing. This was a boy completely overwhelmed.

 When he looked up, his strained eyes weren’t glossy. They were unnervingly vacant.

 I pulled my sweatshirt sleeves over my hands. “Do you think I should tell them about Kean’s? Do you think it’d help?”

 He shrugged. “That’s completely up to you. But if you do, don’t mention me.”  

 “You want me to lie?”

 “Yes.”

 “Why don’t you want them to know? Are you scared of them?”

 “I’m not scared of them,” he scoffed. “They already know what gang they’re affiliated with.”   

 Gang...

 “And what gang is that?”

 Reluctance filled his eyes. “An ugly one. Unimpressive, but ugly.”

 “What do you mean unimpressive?”

 “They’re rash, messy. They’re like bullies on the playground. They always get caught by the supervisor.”

 “Harry…”

 His eyes shot to mine, brows stitched.

 I took a breath. “Outside of Kean’s… the guys who- you know… they said something that made me think they knew you. Or, at least had heard about you.”

 Nothing changed on his face. No flash of fear, sadness, embarrassment. Nothing.

“Are you safe?” I pressed. “Why are they targeting you? Or is it your parents?”

 His gaze softened. “I don’t want you worrying about me.”

 A short humorous laugh ripped itself from my throat. “Too late.” I reached in my pocket and held the anonymous pill bottle between us, our moment against the door cheapened. “And why’d you slip this in my pocket?”

 He reached his hand out to take it, but I lifted my hand higher. I was getting no answers from this boy, the cops flippin took my information tonight and who knew when they’d be dropping in on me, and I was sick of it!!

 He exhaled, only slightly amused. “Fine. It’s something new. Not on the market, officially.”

 “...so it’s illegal.”

 “Experimental,” he offered.

 “But you didn’t want them seeing it.”

 Any inklings of humor slipped from his eyes. “Clearly.”

 “Fine.” I tossed him the bottle. Clearly, I’d hit a sore spot.

 “Have you ever done hard drugs?”

 I ignored the slow way he spoke, making each word sound like a sultry invitation. “No.”

 “Would you ever try?”

 I opened my mouth, not sure why I was suddenly so thrown off. It wasn’t the weirdest question to be asked on a college campus, but coming from Harry in his quiet bedroom it sounded like a loaded question. And a deflection.

 “I don’t think so…”

 “They’re not all bad. For shrooms you’d preferably be in a peaceful environment, and just with people you trust.” He threw his hands up. “S’only if ever wanted to try. I’m not saying you have to or anythin’, obviously.”

 A prick of nausea filled my stomach. Somehow, without trying or saying anything directly, he managed to make me feel so grossly naive. “Yeah I’m good for now, thanks.” Miraculously, I managed to not roll my eyes.

 He sensed the shift in mood, the air filling with an awkward tension. He bit his lip.

 “Listen, I want you to feel like you can tell me anything.”

 I nodded, but fought the feeling that he was only saying this because he didn’t want me confiding in the cops. A “you can’t tell them, but hey tell it all to me!” consolation.

 Besides, did he really feel like he could tell me anything? I knew he didn’t let people beneath his shell, that he hid a heart with more guards and walls than fort knox, and I knew in my core that he’d let me in a little deeper than others. But I also knew that no matter how I deep I was now, I still wasn’t deep enough for him to trust me. I didn’t know if I could ever get there.

 I gently kicked his shin with my sneaker. “Okay, well, for starters I’m going to have nightmares about being interrogated tonight.” It was a half-joke, because the only nightmares I had now involved me, trapped in an empty house, running towards something I couldn’t name with bodiless entities watching me and the flash of a knife.

 You know, just girly things.

“Did you always have nightmares? Or-” his lips quirked, hand rubbing the back of his neck. Could he say the unmentionable? That I had nightmares because of him? “-is this a recent development?”

 “I found a gun in your drawers Harry.”

 He bit his tongue, jaw clicking with restraint. “Why were you-?”

 “Because you locked me in your room! Why’d you do that, huh?!” My hands were trembling. The words had flown out before I could stop them, but there was no going back. “What normal person locks another person in their room?”

 He flinched at normal. “I only did that because it was safer.”

 I glared at him harder until he shifted his weight.

 “I can see why you’d be upset,” he admitted.

 “How would you know if it was safer? What aren’t you telling me, Harry, because I don’t know much of anything and it is driving me insane.”

 I spared him details - that I looked over my shoulder every thirty seconds, that I stopped going to my tutoring sessions because they were held after dark across campus - but insane pretty much summed it up.

 He saw the wild in my eyes, and his shoulders fell. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

 “You’ve said that before.”

 “I know. I-” he paused, hollowed eyes not meeting my own. “This is difficult for me, try to understand.” He stopped, then tried again. “I’m familiar with the guys who assaulted you outside of Kean’s okay? But they got violent, and I disassociated. They hold a grudge.”

 “How did you know them?”

 “I think it’s best if you don’t know.” Harry swallowed thickly, tilting his head back, eyes closed, probably wondering if he leant far enough if he’d disappear.

 “Do you think they were the ones at your house?”

 “I don’t know. It’s a possibility.”

 “Does anybody else know about any of this?”

 His phone buzzed and he reached for it, relief from this unexpected interrogation. He placed it down, but it buzzed again, then again. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

 “You can answer it.”  

 “Can you come here already?”

 It was quiet, but I’d heard it. His lashes fluttered, and I stilled at how drained he looked. For a brief moment, I’d forgotten this was affecting Harry, too. The parts of his life I barely knew stressed me out enough to give me continuous nightmares, but how much more was he living?

 I stepped between his legs, deciding to give him rest instead. It was a sad picture, he and I, how entirely spent we both were.

 “I don’t know about you, boy...”

 I tried to calm the pounding of my heart as he pulled me in close, arms wrapping around my waist, head pressing against my chest. “Me neither.”

 I stilled, not quite knowing what to do or what to say, until I let my head rest atop perfectly mussed curls.

 Gangs were dangerous.

Guns were dangerous.

Drugs were dangerous.

Frat boys were dangerous.

But this?

This feeling that bubbled up inside when his thumbs rubbed circles in the soft skin of my hip?

This was dangerous, too.

 I didn’t know why we couldn’t be like this in public.

I didn’t know what Harry was burdened with or why it seemed to be so much.

 His phone lit-up with 2 missed calls and 8 messages - Viv.

 And I didn’t know who else had seen behind the mask.

part 15

[frangipanidownunder]

Are you up for every even number on unusual asks?

Here are all the even number answers, now listed 1 to 50. Thanks for the asks, lovely.

is your room messy or clean? All rooms in our house are messy but clean. I put things away and then everyone else leaves stuff all over the place, but it’s clean.

do you like your name? why? Not really. My full name is Victoria, which is nice now, but was considered ‘posh’ back when I went to school I’ve always gone by Vicky, which seems old-fashioned these days.

describe your personality in 3 words or less Complicated, witty, serious.

what kind of car do you drive? color? A blue Hyundai i30.

how would you describe your style? Comfortably plain.

what size bed do you have? Queen with a floofy pillowtop mattress that I love.

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? Either Lyme Regis in England or Narooma in NSW. They are my spiritual homes.

favorite makeup brand(s) I don’t wear makeup but if I have to buy it, I’d probably go for Body Shop.

favorite tv show? The X Files!

how tall are you? 160cm or 5ft2in

do you go to the gym? I drop my eldest boy off outside the gym, does that count?

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? A few coins. My two youngest kids nicked all my notes over the weekend.

how many pillows do you sleep with? One and even then it often gets chucked out during the night.

how many friends do you have? Not many. I left my besties behind when I moved to Oz. I have some special colleagues who make me go out and do girlie things which I grump about but secretly love.

whats your favorite candle scent? I have a sensitivity to smell so I’m always cautious, but I love plain candlewax and the smell of burning matches. Otherwise, vanilla is usually ok.

3 favorite girl names Outside of my daughter’s name, probably Isobel, Imogen and Alexia

favorite actress? Doris Day (still cry when I think about her now).

favorite movie? Calamity Jane. My comfort flick and mood lifter.

money or brains? Brains enough to make a decent living.

how many times have you been to the hospital? For myself, a few operations for a fingernail accident when I was young, tonsillectomy at 27 and four babies. With the kids, febrile convulsions (terrifying) asthma attacks (terrifying), cuts to knees, heads, feet and hands (bloody but not so bad).

do you take any medications daily? No, I use an eczema lotion and eye lubricant every day though

what is your biggest fear? Losing any of my kids and what will happen to our eldest boys (on the spectrum/anxiety)

whats your go to hair style? I wash it every day, floof it with a bit of mousse and leave it to dry in the style, then brush it and that’s it. I haven’t used a hairdryer in years.

who is your role model? People who live their lives honestly, with integrity and are kind.

what was the last text you sent? To Mr F: ‘parked opposite the sausage thing between a red and silver ute’

what is your dream car? 1969 Mercedes Sports convertible in red with chrome details.

do you go to college? I did, and then I did a Cert IV back in 2011 and hated having to work/parent/study at the same time. 

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? We live in the country and love it, despite the snakes, fire risk and lack of good shopping.

do you have freckles? A few, but not Gillian Anderson level

how many pictures do you have on your phone? Not sure how you count, but probably more than a thousand.

do you still watch cartoons? I love kids movies, does that count? Ice Age and Shrek are in  my top ten movies of all time.

Favorite dipping sauce? Mayonnaise, plain and simple.

have you ever won a spelling bee? They weren’t a thing in the UK when I grew up, but I was always a good speller.

can you draw? Nope. Terrible. I wish I could.

what was the last concert you saw? Amy Shark, back in May.

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Neither? I don’t drink coffee or eat doughnuts (unless I can get to the UK and enjoy a jam one from  Sainsbury’s). None of the coffee or doughnut shops make decent tea, so they’re out.

what is your crush’s first and last initial? JD (that’s Mr F).

what color looks best on you? I can wear bright colours well - jewel tones, and I love wearing dark red.

do you sleep with your door open or closed? Closed. Our kids stay up later than we do, lol.

what is your biggest pet peeve? SLOW WALKERS OMG, GET A FUCKING MOVE ON YOU MORONS.

favorite ice cream flavor? Vanilla. I have plain tastes.

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? Chocolate.

what is your phone background? David Duchovny at his Melbourne concert last year. Forearm porn.

do you like it when people play with your hair? Yes! But nobody does it now.

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? Both.

have you ever been drunk? Yep. But not often. I hate being out of control and hangovers.

favorite lyrics right now We’re going to see Middle Kids on Sunday and I love their track Salt Eyes. This is the opening verse which is sung with such aloofness:  Friday night, drank a Cab Sav/ At your stupid party, no one danced/ T-shirts, obsolete DVDs/ All these novels I bet you'll never read/ Seemed fine

day or night? Day. I’m an early bird and fall asleep before 9pm, generally.

favorite month? Probably January because although it’s hot and dry, the days are long, Christmas is over, it’s mine and my daughter’s birthday month and we go on holiday.

who was the last person you cried in front of? Everybody on the whale watching cruise when we saw the blue whale mama and bub last month.

[honeykngdom]

sacrilegious | demon!sweet pea x reader

SUMMARY:  I was wondering if you could do a story where sweets is a demon? idk maybe reader finds out or something. maybe he has a sweet spot for her.  WARNINGS: cursing, mild violence , mentions of death WORDS: 2600+ | RATING:  ☁ ♕ A/N: I’m not entirely sure where I planned on going with this, but I would be open to continuing and doing a part 2 if people were interested. I’d have to do a little more research on what kind of demon I wanted to use specifically, but I think this is a pretty interesting start .. lemme know whatcha think! 

It’s been thirty-six days since I had first seen her, and she had first seen me. Not that I was counting, or anything, but just that I was cautiously much more aware of her existence as a whole. Her presence, once a quiet lull left lurking in the background, now seemed to be at the forefront of my thoughts, and her face filled my long days. Her name consistently remained on the tip of my tongue.

You like her, don’t beat around the bush.

To be frank, she terrified me.

 She wasn’t as easy as the other humans to read, and not nearly as gullible or ignorant. During a moment of weakness, she had been able to see a part of me I had been carefully hiding from the rest of the world. And at that moment, I hadn’t realized that the situation had been compromising. I had been having harmless fun, or so I thought.

 I’ve spent decades enjoying various types of music and food, dipping my toes into so many different environments and cultures, but had never felt quite so cozy than I did here in Riverdale. The Southside was nothing if not glorious, and every sadist’s dream. I had been able to find a skin that fits right, utilized what I was for a greater purpose, felt like I belonged. The Serpents embodied everything I was and stood for, and so brandishing the double-headed snake felt like nothing but second nature.

 It was a Saturday night and being twenty-three and careless; I took to the Wyrm’s neon fixtures and smokey pool tables in need of release. Whiskey and I had a longstanding friendship and mutual agreement, but I suppose it might have been the mix of Fogarty’s tequila that loosened my grip.

 But I felt good. Better than that, even, I felt satisfied.

 Being a divine spirit, immoral or otherwise, I never quite had the luxury of feeling utterly content with anything. Not in food, not in knowledge, not in sex, and certainly not in power.

 Why else would I still be here?

 But being here, surrounded by these people, enjoying each and everything I craved all at once, it was exhilarating. And, in that small moment where my realities blended and the lines blurred, I found myself stumbling out of the men’s washroom, struggling with my zipper. The heavy thrum of the bass mixed with the loud, overlapping conversations made an erratic melody in my head, but the faintest hint of despair mixed among the chaos pulled my attention away from the bar, and towards the rear exit that led to the parking lot.

Smoking had become an ugly habit, truthfully, but one that seemed to feed the insatiable monster within me. In spite of the darkness that consumed me as I ventured into the night, I was able to register the heat signatures of the duo standing across the lot. One, roughly six-foot-two, and the other much smaller.

Oh, look. Snacks.

Naturally, I couldn’t kill one without killing the other. I certainly wasn’t overly picky with my meals but knew very well I couldn’t leave a witness - especially not one as delectable as she was.

Fixing my leather collar, my long legs carried me forward as I pinched the cherry off my cigarette and tossed it in the general direction of the butt-bucket bolted to the side of the post. The closer I ventured, the easier it was to make out what they were saying;

“Let me go!” cried the young woman, her voice not so soft given her plea.

It was met with a snort, followed by another rough shove. The chain-link fences moved against each other, and by the looks of it, if the perpetrator didn’t settle down, he was going to draw far too much attention to himself.

Amateur.

“You’re on my side of the tracks, bitch,” he snarls, gripping onto the front of her jacket to pin her to the fence, “I told you what’d happen if I caught you down here again.”

Fear illuminated her features, sinking into her bones. It was obvious. It could have been pitch black, and she could have been silent, I still would have been able to feel her anxiety pulsating from inside the bar. Her figure, now surrounded by a thick wavering aura, began to look smaller as she tried to pull her arms into her chest to cover herself.

Time for some fun.

“You know,” I interjected as I stepped out from the shadows, hands steady in my pockets, “Most people don’t waste their time with pleasantries. So go ahead, show her. What’s gonna happen?”

“Why don’t you fucking mind your business, Serpent?” the man retorted over his shoulder, not really paying me as much attention as I wanted.

My fists clenched tightly at my sides, nails digging into the flesh as the heat travels from my chest and into my face.

“That’s a big mouth for such a small person.” I replied coolly.

“Even bigger fists.” he responded, lifting his chin as his boots echoed in the empty lot. The man takes an advancing step, brown hues boring down profoundly into the mine.

I lifted my mouth at the corner, head tilting to the side, “That so? Wanna see mine?” There was a moment when the male’s body tensed in reaction to my words; he narrowed his eyes almost appearing to do a double take as I take another step forward.

“Get lost,” he spat, turning back to his victim; she looked past him to where I stood, face not painted in relief, but in terror, as my features came into the light. “This isn’t any of your business.”

It was in this moment that I could feel the slip. My eyes darkened, vision switching from straining against the darkness of the night, to crystal clear shapes and heat signatures. Perfect for hunting. My hand shot forward, gripping the man by the throat tightly; my upper lip twitched in anticipation, feeling the heat bubbling angrily in my core, screaming, aching, pleading to be released.

Never fucking satisfied.

Letting that feeling get the better of me, I gripped his wrists tightly in my hands, then twisted them back until I was met with deafening snaps as the cartilage and bone gave way under my strength, “On this side of the tracks, everything is my business.” I whispered into his ear, unable to contain the slight joy that graced my lips as he screamed mercilessly in my arms.

And in the next instant, he ceased to exist.

Way to play with your food, you pig. We didn’t even have any fun.

I looked up to where the woman stood, paralyzed in fear.

Well I mean, there’s still her -

I had full intentions on finishing what I had started; I picked up the lifeless body from the ground, hauling him over my shoulder as the woman took off.

There can sometimes be nothing more terrifying than the very dead of night. When night creeps in and washes away the everyday hustle and bustle of life that once filled every corner of a house, even the most confident of people can be left feeling as if something is watching them. In the silence that accompanies darkness, every last sound can appear deafening. And for some, the things that go bump in the night are the things of our nightmares.

I must have been one of hers.

“For fuck sakes,” I growled; I’d just have to enjoy him later. I knew there was no real measure of distance she could put between us that would make her safe. Her scent was left in a trail behind her, like a beaming arrow guiding me to her. Discarding the body into the dumpster just behind the bar, I wiped my hands on the back of my denim and lifted my nose to the sky.

It took me a moment, focusing on the path her scent had made, visually envisioning where exactly she was - heading west on Chopin, towards Bo’s convenience store. Within seconds, I was stretching my long legs behind her, listening to her heart erratically beating in her chest, pumping the deliciously warm life-force within her veins. She smelled sweet, almost too sweet like a heavy sugar icing that came with the pre-made store bought cakes.

We were just passing his shop doors when I grabbed hold of her by the elbow; she protested against my restraints, kicking my shin rather roughly in her attempt to evade, but alas, no such luck. I pulled her into my side, turning into the alley just behind the shop only to have her pressed against the brick.

Even in the darkness, it was easy to see the way her blood raced up into her neck and flushed her face with a lovely pink. Her eyes were wide with fear, lungs filling with air in short gasps. I loosened my hold, but did not put any more distance between us, “I’m not going to hurt you.” I uttered softly, “That was a stupid idea.” I continued once she had calmed herself enough.

“You -” she breathed, mouth pulled back into a grimace. Her eyes wandered over the length of my body, my shoulders, drinking in every last feature. She knew me, she knew who I was - or, rather, who I was supposed to be, “You killed him.”

“I did the Southside a favour.” I argued.

“You snapped his arms like they were twigs,” she replied, her eyes narrowing as she glowered up at me, “And then his neck. You picked him up like he weighs nothing -”

“To be fair, you don’t weigh very much either.”

“We’re not talking about me.”

I let my brows raise, “Can we? Talk about you?”

She paused, her heartbeat stuttering for the briefest moment. After a few seconds of deliberation, she tries to wiggle her wrists in my grasp, “Will you let me go?”

“Will you run from me?” I countered.

What are you doing?

She shook her head slowly, meeting my gaze with a quiet ‘I promise’ that was barely audible to the human hear. Carefully, I removed my hands from her wrists, watching as she rubbed them with a slight wince; I offered an apologetic smile, and although it was measly, she seemed a little more at ease being in control of her own body again.

“Why did you run this time?” I asked after a few moments, bringing another cigarette up to my lips, lighter flickering against the breeze.

“You were going to kill me next.” she deadpanned, taking the smoke from between my lips to inhale deeply; her shoulders seemed to relax more visibly with her next exhale.

“You’ve seen me before,” I reminded her, stealing my smoke back, “I didn’t kill you then.”

“Why not?”

Truthfully, I wasn’t entirely sure why I hadn’t. My shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, leaning my body against the brick next to hers, “I followed you home that night.” I began after a few moments, “I was going to. Kill you. In all of my decades on this earth, I’ve been very good with keeping what I am a secret, until you and your pesky camera.” She glances up at me impishly, hands disappearing into her pockets. “I sat outside of your window for hours, waiting until your mother’s Vicodin kicked in and the wine put her to sleep.”

“What changed your mind?” she asked, this time her voice a little less stable, much quieter.

You.

Involuntarily, I gnawed on the inside of my cheek as I mulled over the several possible answers - all of which was true to an extent, but none that would be satisfactory, I was sure. “Why didn’t you scream?” I watched her features drop into a scowl at my words, “It’s not often people see me like that without becoming hysteric or jumping into a sort of frenzy,” she doesn’t meet my eyes this time, choosing to keep her gaze fixed on the ground as she reached for the cigarette I extended towards her.

She flinched, momentary fear replacing the ease that settled over her bones. There it was again - undeniably sweet and sickly, thundering in her chest, pumping through her veins. “Honestly? Mythological creatures fascinate me.”

I felt my brows pull together, “Do I look like a myth to you?”

“You know what I mean,” her eyes flutter in a gentle roll, inviting me to follow her as she began to drift towards the street again. “I was more concerned with getting home to figure out what you were, more than I was actually worried about you killing me.”

“That’s .. incredibly careless, actually. Are you sure you’re human?” I teased lightly as I settled into a leisurely stroll alongside her.

“Just barely.” she quipped.

“Don’t worry, me too.” I glanced sideways down at her, and winked. Immediately, her skin lit up with a soft pink. “You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?”

She shook her head once, “No, but I’ve got a thousand questions.”

I wasn’t entirely sure I had any of the answers she was looking for. I mean, of course I did, I just wasn’t sure if talking about it was going to make things worse. 

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of tires running over puddles and the wind in the trees. Riverdale had become eerily quiet, and not in a comforting way. It wasn’t until I recognized what street we had turned onto before I realized we were headed towards her home.

“What’s your name?” she asked suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

“Sweet Pea,” I replied.

“Your real name.”

“That is my real name.” I assured her; it wasn’t a total lie. That was the name I received when I had first been initiated, that was the name that stuck. It had been an odd choice, but given that I appeared far scarier than my name sounded, it made me the perfect candidate to take care of the dirty business.

Not very many people expected a six-foot-five body of muscle to come out with a pair of pliers after they’ve been told they’re sending in Sweet Pea. Truthfully, I took far more joy out of handling those situations than the others would have.

“You really expect me to call you that?”

I shrugged indifferently, “You can call me whatever you’d like. I’m not picky.” We came to a slow crawl, stopping just outside of the pathway littered with wilting flowers and weeds. The lights inside the home remained off, but the light above the door came to life as we ventured near.

She looked up at me from under her lashes, bottom lip caught between her teeth; I had seen this before. Many times. I was no stranger to body language, and I could read her loud and clear; I had been intimate with people before, and never once had it posed an issue. People, men and women alike, were incredibly needy and driven by carnal desires, making prey such as the girl before me irresistibly enticing.

But I had never, ever, been intimate with someone that knew what I was.

“How about I call you tomorrow, and take you out for breakfast since you .. took care of that guy.” she offered, holding her cellular device out. “You eat breakfast, right?

I took it from her fingertips, “I prefer my cattle live, but I suppose fried bacon will have to do.” I joked, noticing the way the corners of her mouth threatened a smile. “I look forward to hearing from you.” I mused quietly, holding the phone back out to return it to her.

“Goodnight, Sweet Pea.” she murmured, twisting the knob on her front door.

I couldn’t help but crack a smile, “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

[psychoangiethings]

The Bloodline [Roman Godfrey x Reader]

Warning: Adult themes & language, murder

Other tags: Magic, friends to lovers, slow build, nightmares, witches, upirs

Summary: After very suspicious car crash that killed both of her parents, Abigail Wolff moves in with her aunt to Hemlock Grove only to discover a truly interesting family history which her father kept from her. As she awakens her powers, something much older and terrifying is coming after her. Or maybe not after her at all.

Chapter 8

Masterlist

Chapter 9 - Drive faster

15th December 2016

It was early in the evening when I yelled into the house I'm going for a run which was a code for practising in the forest.  In every grimoire I read that every witch has to be in perfect balance with nature so I thought how will I get there? The answer was really simple, all I had to do was let my power flow through me with my hands in the ground and try to feel the life and power of earth. Just to get on the same page without hurting anyone or myself, get to know each other. It became easier when I was deeper in the forest, not afraid of someone walking onto me.

So, wearing my oldest pants, that once had beatiful dark blue colour, and shirt with long sleeves and a thin vest, I went out. During those days I tried to go there as many times as possible, to gain my balance. I even found a place that reminded me of Amira and her battle. Well, kind of. I sat down in a circle I made of stones earlier and sighed. The stones were signaling me where I felt good and in harmony.

For no reason I recalled my dialogue with Peter few weeks ago when I went to him because I really needed to know what did he know. About me, about supernatural and what was he willing to share.

"What are you doing here?" Peter told me leaning against the doorframe, hair dishevelled wearing only pants. "I don't have time for you," he mumbled and tried to close the door.

I grabbed it with my hand. "And I'm not convinced, so let me in." He did. Obviously not thrilled but offered a beer anyway and when I declined he opened it for himself.Inside the trailer looked slightly better. Still I got the impression of being able to quickly grab your important stuff and leave the town if shit hits the fan. Smart thinking.

Peter sat on the sofa in front of me and sighed. "So?"

"So I put one and one together. Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Straight to the point. Fair enough. You have to be more specific. Didn't tell you what?" He took another sip and relaxed into the sofa.

"I wondered why Erika invited your mother and then it hit me. She knows about Erika. She knows about me. So what are you? Gypsy witches?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not joking, Peter. I'm fed up with half-truths and lies, so tell me what are you, people? Or should I look at that myself?" I said and pointed with a finger at my right eye.

"I knew the difference the moment I saw you that day with Roman. Wondered why you have that and what does it do," he mumbled and lit up a cigarrete. "Just look at me and tell me what do you see."

I could tell he was curious but so was I. Besides my hallucinations I've never used it for its rightful purpose. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to shut it down too. Maybe it was time to find out. "Lerath ma garem. Open, my eye." Even hours and hours of practising couldn't prepare me for what I saw. There was the slightest hint of wolfish ears created by white smoke above his head and in front of his face there was a wolf's face with dark eyes and bared teeth. "O-okay?" I breathed out nervously and sat down on the table's corner. "So, werewolf, then?" I reached out to the smoke as he nodded, curious if it was solid or my hand would go trough. It did, but wolf opened its mouth as if he wanted to bite me, then the tongue came out and 'licked' my palm. I shivered and closed my eyes.

"What do you see? What did you do?"

"Your wolf side. It's acting on its own behalf."

That day I discovered part of the truth and wasn't ready to use my eye again. If I was able to see under the surface of supernatural beings, to see what they truly were, what else I was capable of? It scared me to death as much as I didn't know how to turn it off. After visiting Peter I kept staring on the ground because I didn't want to see and the following day I woke up, it was gone. I needed to learn how to shut it down plus tomorrow was my first day on Hemlock Grove High School. It would be shitty if something happened, right? If Roman started a gossip about a girl who lived with her aunt after her parents died and didn't show up at school right away, probably because of sulking and drowning in depression, I would be freak from the moment I'd stepped on the school ground.

Right, Roman. Alongside with Peter I didn't saw him at all. Lynda barely showed at our house and Erika... Well, let's say we had a few dialogues about important things -my powers, who's Amira and what the hell were those shadows, my right eye - and the shitty ones - what do you want to wear to school tomorrow? Should I give you a ride or pick you up?

Erika didn't know who was Amira or what was the meaning of my right eye. She didn't saw werewolves as I did so that sucked and even one of our oldest grimoires didn't mention this ability. Or Amira. While reading all those pages I got frustrated. There was absolutely nothing that would help me against that prick from my dream and it seemed that evil forces went radio silent. No attacks, no dreams, no nothing!

"Well, maybe he'll be like Voldemort. He will wait for his attempt to kill me till the end of the year." That was my way to coping with things. Sarcasm and irony. And my balance was getting a bit off. "Sorry, sorry. Less talking and more focusing, got it," I mumbled and closed my eyes.

×

Waking up next morning was a great pain in the ass. No, I didn't overslept. Basically I slept only four hours and woke up whole hour before my alarm. And since laying in bed wasn't my thing, I got up to prepare myself and got some food in me. Since I moved in here, during the last weeks I walked throughalmost whole town so I knew my way to school. The beauty of this town was there were no ugly yellow buses. If you had a car, you could use it, or walk there or be ashamed for the rest of your life and be remembered as the kid whose parents drove him to school everyday. I chose option B. Getting there on my feet wasn't something hard even though overwhelming majority of teenagers in Hemlock Grove drove a car. So when I picked up my bag and decided to go I still got plenty of time before it even started. Not wanting to face Erika that morning got me determined to avoid her at all costs. I've had my share of nervous talking and stupid questions yesterday.

Hemlock Grove High School was nice looking building. Erika told me earlier to go straight to principal's office, just to introduce myself and got my schedule. Saying principal was thrilled to see me would be a bit strong word. Maybe excited and definitely curious. I patiently answered every question - in a way - and then got annoyed. Wanting to know a student in a few minutes is telling something about you. Firstly - you're just curious. Secondly - you couldn't find a single filth so you want to know if the person in question is really an angel. Or in my case, you wait with dropping the bomb to the end.

"I am really sorry for what happened to you, but here you can have a new beginning, find a new friends. No one here knows about what happened, so you can relax." Well, obviously someone knows, I wanted to add but said only thanks and got out of the office.

While looking in the schedule I knew shit about what room was where and walked past the big terrarium with a snake at least three times till I gave up, leaned against it and started a monolog with school snake. This day couldn't get even worse.

"Hey there, Wolff." Correction - it could and in that moment just did. It came from behind me and I would recognize that voice anywhere. Roman fucking Godfrey. "Don't tell me you can talk with snakes too. For most would be enough your eyes to call you a witch," he joked and stopped in front of me.

"Yeah, they also called freckles the Devil's mark. So," I gave him a forced smile and looked at my schedule again. Fucking chemistry.

"I'm not even surprised you know this kind of thing."

I almost forgot how persistent he was. I wasn't convinced every rich and spoiled child was bad, no. I was convinced that the money and power they had made them capable of anything and their counting on contacts they had in higher places made them dangerous. Roman grew up in those circles, even those fucking pretty green eyes were telling 'Look, I'm a trouble but I promise you will enjoy it'. Nope, nothing for me.

"You know where's the chemistry classroom?" I asked instead with a sigh and tried to calm myself. The last thing I needed was blow this day and reveal myself as a witch.

"I'll come with you. I've got that too."

Of course I was going to the same class as he did. I groaned. It was getting better and better.

×

For better or worse I did manage to ignore him for most of the classes. Some we shared, some we didn't. And students of Hemlock Grove High School couldn't care less about me which was nice change. So my first day was rather boring. In the middle of our biology class I decided to shorten my time with a little walk to school bathrooms and back. Since it was last class of the day I doubted our teacher would let me. But he did and wasn't making some stupid remarks how soon the class will end and how I'm not some five year old child so I can wait.

Surprisingly, I stood in front of big white door with 'GIRLS' in shock. Not because the door was made out of some freakingly rare wood, or the notice on door was written badly. There was this moaning, again. Just to made myself sure I slightly opened the door and looked inside. Only one cubicle was closed and inside was definitely more than one person.

"Ah, yes! Right there!" A breathy moan filled whole bathroom. O-okay, so the 'BOYS' it is then. As I was closing the door again, my eyes dropped to the floor where I saw feet with a very expensive shoes. Looked familiar, though. Where did I-

"Yes! Oh, Roman!"

"What the fuck?" I so not whispered but it certainly wasn't that loud and closed the door, which kind of louder was. So he is a manwhore. Fucking girls in his car in empty parking lot, fucking them during class in school. I made disgusted noise and went back to the class.

After the bell ringed for the end of class, which was almost in the moment I came back in classroom, I tried not to think about what I heard and saw. He really had some balls to fuck around in school.

And I wasn't fucking looking where I was going, that's how I much wanted to get out so I bumped in someone. With the corner of my eye I saw bandaged hands and a phone on some kind of string. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking,"  I mumbled and carried on.

Finally able to breath outside, I tried to get around other students who were laughing and making plans for the rest of the day. I didn't get very far, still on school ground as car pulled over before me. A small retro red Jaguar. The driver rolled down the window.

"You have to be kidding me! Seriously, Godfrey?"

He just grinned and raised one of his eyebrows. "Hop in, I'll give you a ride."

I crossed my arms. "No, thanks. I know what kind of rides do you give and I think I'll pass."

"C'mon, Wolff."

"What if I catch something?"

"Like what?"

"Like some kind of disease. Who knows what're you doing in there." I looked around and realized some students were curiously watching us.

"Don't make a scene and get your ass in here."

"Fine."

Surprisingly there was no awkward silence in the car. Still I cheekily started to play with buttons of his car radio. He frowned a bit but said nothing. "What? I'm not riding with you in total silence," I justified my actions and then relaxed in my seat. It was nice car, comfortable and totally out of my league.

"You have the oddest luck to walk on me in the most peculiar moments," he said after a while and looked at me. I indicated with my hands he should be watching the road and not me.

"I wouldn't call it a luck but yeah. I've heard enough for the rest of my life I think."

"Ah, don't be a prude."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. "I'm not! I just think you have some serious balls if you're whoring aroung in public places."

"Who's saying I'm whoring? I don't have a girlfriend."

"Sorry, I meant sleeping around, then," I corrected myself sarcastically and looked out of window. The forest was completely different in day time but something wasn't quite right. In the road curve I thought I saw a man, standing there somewhere. What? I moved closer to the window and looked to the both sides but nothing.

Amira.

"Godfrey?" I asked weakily, colour disappearing from my face.

He hummed in answer and when I wasn't saying anything he quickly turned his head to me. "You okay? Sick or something?"

How could he not feel the coldness? The sudden sickening feeling. A shiver ran down my spine. Maybe it was a witch thing? "No. Drive faster."

Something dangerous flicked in his eyes as he grinned and stepped on the gas.

[sightlessdarkcorner7]

50 Couples On The Creepiest Sleep Talking/Said In The Dark of Night

After reading these sleep talker stories from (Ask Reddit) you are going to have trouble falling asleep with your partner.

My husband is OUT OF CONTROL with his sleep talking. You almost can’t call it sleep talking, because you would swear this MFer knows EXACTLY what he’s doing. It isn’t just talking. He gets up out of bed, will literally be walking around the house doing things like he’s totally aware. Could hold a full conversation with you. It takes a minute to realize whether he’s awake or not, he’s so sure of himself. So probably the scariest thing was one night we’re knocked out, it has to be like 3 am, and his big ass BOLTS out of bed like I’ve never seen in my life, waking me up and frantically yelling, “WE HAVE TO GO NOW! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE! FOLLOW ME! HURRY UP!” I literally go into full panic mode and start trying to grab things and get my dogs, all while trying to ask him WTF is going on, but he’s SO serious about this that I just trust that there must be something bad happening. Within a minute or so I noticed that as frantic as he was walking around, he wasn’t really DOING anything, just kind of going in circles. At that point it clicked that he wasn’t really awake [I had been woken up from a dead sleep too obviously] so I started saying his name over and over and telling him it was okay, and he kind of just snapped out of it and was like oh, sorry about that…

I was told by my SO that I said, “Give her a lobotomy, right through the temple.”

SO: Shhh be quiet. She’ll hear us. I ask who. SO Response: The woman who lives here. Shhhh she’s in the hallway.

Sat up at a 90 degree angle and said, “Violence causes and solves all problems.” Laid back down and said nothing else.

Woke up to go to the bathroom one night. As I move to get up my boyfriend goes, “Don’t go out there…” Thinking he’s awake and joking with me I go, “Oh yeah, why?” He sits upright eyes wide open and goes, “SHE’S out there.” I held it for the rest of the night.

Woke up the whole house shouting, “Where is the head?! Where is the head?!”

He did that sit straight up in bed thing that I thought only happened in movies then shouted, “They’re coming for my skinnnn.”

I talk in my sleep, and my girlfriend told me this story after we woke up. I had evidently, turned toward her, shook her with my face, and yelled “They took my god damn arms Johnny!” before slumping back over and going back to sleep.

Not my SO but one of my friends’ mother used to talk in her sleep frequently. Apparently she was petting her boyfriend’s hair and telling him all the ways that she could kill him and make it look like an accident. Told her about it in the morning and she just laughs and said they weren’t bad ideas.

My wife has the occasional night terrors. One night she woke up screaming thinking something was in the corner of our room. Really freaked me out cause I woke up to her trying to escape through the wall while pulling her lamp from the socket and throwing everything off of her nightstand. My dog and I just looked at her super confused. Dog noped out of the bedroom and slept in the guest room that night.

My boyfriend has PTSD from his time in the Marines and what they did overseas. The other night, I had my arm around his waist and he patted my hand and said, “You’re never going to make it out of here. You’re just another casualty about to happen. You’re going to die and luckily we’re married because you have life insurance.” .... we are not married.

“I wanna tear all your skin off your body… then maybe you’ll be quiet.”

My stepfather in his sleep:”I’ll will kill you, you bastard.” It was in the beginning of their relationship, my mum was a little bit scared.

A few months ago my husband was mumbling in his sleep, I asked what was up, he replied very clearly and loudly, “A CORRIDOR OF SEVERED HEADS.” I slept with the light on.

The first time we ever slept together I woke up to him looking at me. “Hand me my spear. I will kill you now,” he said. Then he closed his eyes and laid back down. I thought about it for like 5 minutes, decided I could take him, then went back to sleep myself. We dated for 6 years.

He sat up, pointed to the darkest corner of the room, and said, “There’s someone there!” I frantically said, “What do you mean?” And he insisted “There! There’s someone standing right there!” He then proceeded to lay down and go back to sleep as I used my phone light to check the dark corner. There was no one there.

He’s still watching us. He has no eyes.” Well, so much for sleeping tonight.

“They’re out there.” He says, eyes closed. “Who?” I asked. He shrugs, and uses both hands to gesture to the dark window. “Them.” We’ve had people in our yard before, so I had to look!

I wake up to hear him mumbling indistinct words, followed by “sudden infant death syndrome.” I was 7 months pregnant at the time.

My husband, almost every night, yells out “help…help…HELP” in his sleep. If I wake him when he does it, he’s hysterical until I can calm him down. It’s crazy.

“Don’t move or they’ll get you.” He says he doesn’t even remember having dreams that night.

Soon after having a child, my wife sat upright in bed in the middle of the night, shouted: “My baby! What has she done?!” and lay back down.

“Don’t worry about the lady in the corner.”

When we first got together, my (soon-to-be-ex)SO would scream at his ex wife in his sleep, saying things like “shut the fuck up you stupid bitch, I should kill you”. Now he screams those things at me in his sleep.

This wasn’t an SO but a guy I had a fling with. He abruptly began speaking gutteral gibberish in his sleep, then in his guttural voice shouted “I SAW HIM,” then continued the gibberish. Think straight-up horror movie demon voice. I think the devil took over his body for a moment.

My ex used to grind her teeth, talk and move a lot while sleeping. One night she was making this weird noise with her throat and me, being a light sleeper, woke up and decided I was going to get up and go to the bathroom when she suddenly snapped her neck and turned her face towards me and said real quick “the witch has arrived” and then turned her face away just as fast and stopped moving. I spent the whole night lying down wide awake trying not to piss myself.

My husband frequently sees things in our room in his sleep that are not there. Giant spiders on the wall, snakes, squirrels. He’ll wake up and tell me to get out of bed so he can find whatever it is he “saw”. One time he jumped out of bed and looked under the bed for snakes. My favorite was when he pointed to the corner of our bedroom and said there was a giant spider. He then proceeded to run out of the bedroom yelling, “I’m out this bitch, I’m out this bitch”. He doesn’t even talk like that normally. He’s also punched me in the back multiple times in a row because he was dreaming of fighting someone.

“We’re not alone,” at 3 am while camping in the 100 Mile Wilderness.

My SO has laughed in his sleep. Doesn’t seem creepy, but when you’re sleeping in dark and quiet room, and wake up to someone chuckling, then creepy is an understatement.

One night he repeatedly screamed “GET THEM OFF ME!” while biting his own arms. Alarming to say the least.

I’m not sure what’s more terrifying than your SO sitting upright and saying, “they’re here” only to collapse back into their deep slumber.

Screaming, “I am going to kill you Motherfucker!”

My SO used to (not as much over the years) speak German in his sleep. So, since I understand very little german, I’d catch a few words here and there and ask in the morning… It usually was something like “run”, “kill” ect. He had the strangest dreams/ nightmares.

I am the talker, my BF is weirded out by it in general… one night I sat up and creepily whispered “Help Me.”

He kissed my forehead and then said, in a really creepy sing-songy voice, “They’re coooooming, the terrorists are coooming! Dont worry though, they wont bang you.”

Violently shakes me awake “Don’t move. DO NOT MOVE.” Whispers: “We are covered in bees. Stay very still.” Turns over and falls sleeps.

My brother and I shared a room growing up. I would always wake him up with my sleep talking so he convinced my Dad to record me in my sleep. I said one very clear and loud sentence that night. “Go until you die.” No clue what I was dreaming about.

My ex once asked Her: “Do you see them?” Me : “Who?” Her: “The children.” That was a big nope!

Not words, but a laugh. My husband has, on more than one occasion, laughed in his sleep. But it’s not a normal laugh… It’s either a lot deeper and slower (almost insidious), or it’s a higher pitch (sometimes up and down rapidly with the pitch) and kind of staccato. Neither laugh sounds like him when he’s awake. It’s unsettling, but fortunately, it doesn’t happen too often.

I had an ex girlfriend who’s first language was Welsh. When she spoke in her sleep, bitch sounded like she was speaking in tongues.

Not 100% a talking in her sleep story but… When my SO is stressed she has dreams about spiders crawling everywhere. One night I was reading and she was asleep, she suddenly sat up and just stared at me. I asked her what’s up?

My wife doesn’t talk in her sleep, but I did wake up once to her sitting up, leaning over me and staring at me Paranormal Activity style. It was terrifying, and she has no recollection of it.

My fiancé is Chinese and didn’t have the best upbringing there. It is common for her to yell in a distressed tone in her sleep random Chinese phrases.

“We need to decapitate them and take them back to the lab.”

My SO informed me one morning that he had woken up in the middle of the night with my face inches from his, my finger in his ear and I was apparently whispering, “I just need to get in, let me in!”

“Are you texting demons?” Oddly high pitched laugh. “You’re friends with demons!”

My SO said she was going to the bathroom in the middle of the night. On her way back, I said, “It’s following you” and went back to sleep.

I’m the sleep talker but the best I’ve ever been told about was, “NO!! None of them have heads!”

“PUT IT AWAY. NOW.” (This was only our fourth night sleeping together and I didn’t even have anything out…)

Initially he just mumbled something I couldn’t understand. I turned around to face him and asked him what he had said. He responded in his sleep “don’t worry about it” and then laughed in this villainous way that I’ve never heard him use while awake. It honestly creeped me out.

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Misery Loves Company part 1

Chapter Twenty:

The One Where Sunny Sees the Inside of a Suitcase

 

 

There is no word to describe the feeling of waking up and knowing instantly that something is terribly wrong or more accurately if there is such a word I have not learned it. But I am sad to say that Klaus Baudelaire would have used that word when they rose to find that dawn had awoken them, and their Uncle Monty had not. Klaus quietly exited the bed doing his best to not disturb his sleeping baby sister. Still in his pajamas, he raced downstairs and headed towards the Reptile Room. The entire house had an eerie and quietly feeling that made Klaus uneasy.

“Uncle Monty, are you in here?” Klaus called out. “Monty!” He made his way inside the Reptile Room as he reached Monty’s herpetological library, Klaus could see that Uncle Monty was sitting in a large chair with his back turned to him, he noticed that Monty was slouched over and the room was cold and uninviting unlike it had been the day he and Sunny arrived at Dr. Montgomery’s. “Uncle Monty?” Klaus called out again hoping that Monty was simply sleeping. Nervously, Klaus walked around the chair to face his uncle and his heart sank in his chest the moment he laid eyes on Monty. Monty’s mouth was slightly agape as if he were surprised, and his eyes were wide open, but he didn’t appear to see Klaus. “No…” Klaus muttered under his breath choking on his sobs. Klaus could see that most of Monty’s face was pale, the rest being blue and looking cold. Klaus could see the veins along the left side of his face. Under his left eye were two small holes, right in a line, the sort of mark made by the two fangs of a snake. Klaus took a quick step back and covered his mouth with his hand. “Uncle M-Monty…” he was able to say through tears. 

We all know that our time in this world is limited and that eventually all of us will go to sleep, never to wake up. But that didn’t change how Klaus Baudelaire felt that morning in the room his uncle had filled so carefully with specimens, and in which he was now a sort of specimen himself. Klaus could feel his entire body and mind feeling numb with overwhelming grief and horror. His grief was not only for their Uncle Monty but for the tender hope that he and Sunny had found a home again which thanks to a villainous actor was now slowly crumbling away

Klaus stared silently at his uncle’s dead body unsure of what to think and unsure what to do. Klaus knew who had done this to his uncle. Klaus knew why this was done to Uncle Monty and that didn’t help his grieving process. Klaus noticed that Monty had a stack of books on his desk and one opened in front of him, none of them appeared to be about snakes or Peru. Klaus leaned in closer to take a better look.

“ My, my, my, my, my.” said a voice from behind him. Klaus jumped and wiped tears out of his eyes. He just stared at the bastard who slowly walked into the Reptile Room. Klaus didn’t react, he continued to stare at Monty’s lifeless body, unable to speak or to move. “What a terrible accident. Whoever discovers this will be very upset. ‘For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.’”

“...you murdered him…” was the only thing Klaus was able to say. His voice was choking on tears as he glared daggers at Stephano.

“Why, Klaus, I’m surprised. A smarty-pants boy like you ought to be able to figure out that your jolly old Uncle Monty died from a snakebite, not murder. Look at the teeth marks on his left cheek. Look at his cold, waxy face....look at his unblinking eyes.” Stephano replied in his normal voice walking closer to the traumatized boy.

Klaus put his hands to ears and closed his eyes. “ Stop it! Stop talking like that!” 

“You’re right. There’s no time for chitchat. We have a ship to catch and I’d like to board in time to have a bottle of wine before lunch.” Just like magic, Stephano made the three remaining tickets appear in his hands. “Peru. We’re going to Peru.”

“ I wouldn’t go to the end of the fucking driveway with you, much less international waters!” Klaus yelled. 

Stephano merely shrugged turning around. “Well, then I guess I’ll have to take my own luggage.” He said simply as he lifted up one of his suitcases and oddly shook it. Then as he turned to leave, he purposefully hit the suitcase roughly against the wall. A tiny, frightened voice shrieked from inside the suitcase. 

Klaus’ eyes went wide as he hurriedly followed Stephano outside. “ Sunny!” 

Stephano reached Monty’s jeep, opening the trunk and placed one of his two suitcases in it ignoring Klaus. “Let her out this instant! She won’t be able to breathe!” Stephano placed the other suitcase laying down into the trunk.

“I am so tired of having to explain everything to you. You’re supposed to be so smart, and yet you persistently seem to forget about this .” Stephano replied turning to Klaus holding out his knife in full view of the orphan boy. Klaus’ eyes managed to get even wider than before and he looked at Stephano with a face full of fear. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave some breathing holes for her.” Stephano replied as he roughly stabbed the suitcase nearest to him about five times.

“ No! Stop!” Klaus shouted as loud as he could. Tears appearing in his eyes again. He looked up at Stephano with pleading eyes. 

“I’m kidding,” Stephano said in a mocking tone. “That’s not the suitcase she’s in...I don’t think.” 

“ Please don’t harm her! She’s...just an infant!” Klaus begged as he felt his whole body starting to shake. 

“Then get in the car!” Stephano yelled. Klaus balled up his fists as he once again glared daggers at Stephano. 

“Take her out of the fucking suitcase!” 

Stephano growled as he grabbed Klaus’ arm and practically threw him into the side of the car. He swiftly placed the tip of the knife under Klaus’ chin. Klaus froze and looked down in horror as Stephano gave a wicked grin. “Do you see this? This is my knife. It is very sharp and very eager to hurt you...almost as eager as I am. If you don’t do what I say, you will suffer bodily harm. Is that clear enough for you!? ” Stephano snarled into the boy's ear. Klaus slowly inched his head enough to nod. “ Now, get your ass in the damn jeep before I set that fucking suitcase on fire!” Stephano yelled in his face releasing the boy. Klaus trembled rapidly as Stephano opened the door of the jeep and gestured with his knife, ushering Klaus to get in, all the while glaring at the boy. 

As Stephano began fidgeting with the gears of the car, Klaus had a brief hope that the engine wouldn’t start when Stephano turned the key in the ignition, but this was a futile hope. Uncle Monty took excellent care of his jeep, and it started right up. After he forced himself to calm down enough to where he was able to somewhat talk, Klaus looked from the trunk behind him to the repulsive villain that occupied the front seat. “P-please...jus-just don’t...don’t hurt Sunny.” he pleaded. 

The villain looked back at him through the rearview mirror and gave Klaus a terrifying smile as he looked at him with shiny eyes. “Maybe I’ll keep you alive...you’re much more fun to play with.” Stephano snarled as he maniacally laughed. Klaus shuddered and turned behind him focusing on the trunk as Stephano still toyed with the controls.

“Really, there’s no one to blame but yourself.” Stephano commented, “If you hadn’t told me that Monty ripped up my ticket, I wouldn’t have had to kill Monty and you two would be safely on your way to Peru.” 

Klaus felt a wave of guilt rush over him as Stephano’s words registered in his mind. I did this. I made him kill Monty. He thought to himself as Stephano yelled. “God, I hate driving stick!” 

“You’re just going to leave him there?” Klaus asked still in heavy thought about what he had done. He imagined Monty’s corpse decaying in the Reptile Room and wondered when anyone else would stumble upon it.

“Trust me, he doesn’t mind. Of course, after they discover he’s dead, they’ll wonder what became of the two repulsive orphans he had lying around the house. But you’ll be long gone, and I’ll be taking advantage of Peru’s extremely lax guardianship laws.” Stephano said as he finally got the gears of the car to cooperate with him. “Ah, there we go.”

“You...you can’t take us out of the country,” Klaus said trying to reach back behind him to let his baby sister out of the suitcase.

Stephano drove down the straight, long driveway that leads to Monty’s house as he turned around to face Klaus. Klaus retracted his hand quickly hoping that Stephano hadn’t noticed what he was trying to do. “And who’s going to stop me?” 

Before Klaus could answer he noticed that another car was headed straight towards the jeep. “ Look out!” he yelled as Stephano quickly looked ahead noticing the car. Both the young boy and the villain screamed. Klaus put his hands up over his face to shield his head  and face, as Stephano swerved the car roughly to avoid the oncoming vehicle instead hitting one of Monty’s snake-shaped hedges which to Stephano’s horror and Klaus’ relief began tilting towards the car breaking the windshield into millions of teeny tiny pieces and smashing the front hood of Uncle Monty’s jeep.

Now, it’s extremely rare for an accident to be a fortunate event, and luckily for the Baudelaires...this was one of those times. Stephano angrily exited the car and growled when he saw smoke coming from the engine. “Blasted furnaces of Hell!” Klaus realizing that Stephano was distracted hurriedly got out of the car and rushed to the trunk of the car. “What were you thinking careening down that driveway like a maniac!?” Stephano yelled at the other driver.

“Me? I was driving well below the speed limit.” the familiar yet irritating voice replied as he began to cough. 

Klaus simply turned his head still focused on getting his baby sister out of the suitcase. “Oh, thank God. Mr. Poe!” he said. Stephano’s eyes got wide as he realized that Klaus was right. As Mr. Poe coughed as though he was dying…[one could only hope]...Stephano grabbed Klaus by his shoulder, the boy froze over. “This changes nothing! Absolutely fucking nothing!” he hissed into Klaus’ ear. “This is a bit of luck for you, but it is your last! The two of you will be back in this car with me and heading toward Hazy Harbor in time to catch the Prospero, I promise you.” 

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” Klaus said in a shaky, but sarcastic voice.

“Ooooh...you are so deceased.” Stephano hissed back as he released the boy’s shoulder and stood up to greet Mr. Poe. Klaus hurriedly went back to taking his sister out of the suitcase. 

“Klaus Baudelaire?” Mr. Poe questioned. 

“I’m so grateful that you ran into us…” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. It was clearly the fault of the other driver.” Mr. Poe commented. “Wait, weren’t there two of you?”

Klaus opened the suitcase containing his baby sister as Sunny smiled up at him. He smiled back at her checking her over, thankful that she wasn’t harmed during the car accident. As he gazed down at her, it reminded him of the time when she was six weeks old. The day they became best friends. He picked her up and held her close to him, ignoring his bruises, ignoring the pain. At this moment in time, he didn’t care. He held his baby sister close to him as he walked behind Mr. Poe. 

“Ah, there’s the baby,” Mr. Poe said smiling at Sunny, who gave him the cold shoulder. Refusing to acknowledge him at all. “You’re not Dr. Montgomery. Who are you and what you doing with the Baudelaire children?”

“Oh, we’ll tell you who he is…” Klaus began. “He’s…”

“Please, Klaus,” Mr. Poe admonished. “It’s not polite to interrupt.”

“Hello, my name is Stephano. I’m Dr. Montgomery Montgomery’s new assistant. I mean, I was. I mean I don’t how to say it.”

“Uncle Monty’s dead,” Klaus informed Poe as Sunny let out a small whimper. 

“That’s how you say it.” 

“Wait, he’s dead? But that...that’s terrible. How did it happen?” Mr. Poe asked as he coughed again.

“He was murdered,”

“He was bitten by a snake,” Stephano said at the same time glaring down at Klaus. “I was on my way now to get the coroner. The children were too hysterical to be left here alone.”

“He wasn’t taking us to a coroner. He was kidnapping us and taking us to Peru!”

“What? See? The boy is definitely hysterical.”

“No, the children must be confused. Dr. Montgomery was taking them to Peru. Last night he called me to insist on me rearranging my morning plans to bring them the rest of Klaus’ belongings and their passports.”

“Can’t you see, Mr. Poe? That’s Count Olaf! He’s in disguise and he’s trying to kidnap us!” Klaus yelled frustrated. 

“Who am I? What am I doing?” Stephano asked, patting Klaus’ head. “Don’t you miss the vivid imagination of childhood, Mr. Foe.”

“It’s Poe and I never had one,”

“An imagination or a childhood?” Stephano asked.

“Nepunctum!” Sunny yelled, which meant, “That’s not the fucking point!” which Klaus was happy to translate.

“Klaus, watch your language.” Mr. Poe commented.

Stephano smirked towards the Baudelaires, “Mr. Yoe is right, you children should behave. ” 

Klaus began to shake as Sunny growled at Stephano. “Veniat!” she yelled, which meant, “Leave him the fuck alone, you bastard. Or I will kill you!” Klaus was too shaky to translate for her so she continued to growl at Stephano.

Stephano turned to Mr. Poe, “As you can see the children are obviously distressed. Dr. Montgomery and I were going to take the kids to Peru today.”

Mr. Poe looked to Klaus. “Klaus, I know you’re confused and upset over this accident, but please try to understand that if Dr. Montgomery is dead, the expedition is canceled.”

“Fuck off!” Sunny yelled angrily at Poe’s direction seeing that her brother was still shell shocked and unable to speak for himself. 

“Clearly, this is a matter for the adults to discuss, children. Obviously, the coroner needs to be called.”

Stephano’s eyes shined brightly as he realized an opportunity had been thrown his way. “Well, why don’t you drive up to the house and I’ll take the children to get the coroner.”

“ Jose!” Sunny shrieked, which meant, “No fucking way!” 

“Why don’t we all go to the house and call the coroner?” Mr. Poe suggested. Stephano blinked and for a second his face grew angry again before he was able to calm himself and smoothly answer, “Of course. I should have called earlier. Obviously I am not thinking as clearly as you, Mr. Toe. Come now, children. Let’s get back in the jeep and Mr. Toe can follow us.”

Klaus finally able to get over his shellshock looked to Stephano. “We’re not getting back in that car with you,” he said firmly.

“Please, Klaus, try to understand. There has been a serious accident. All other discussions will have to be put aside.” 

“But Mr. Poe…”

Mr. Poe ignored Klaus and glanced at his car, finally having the time to look for the damage. “The only trouble is, I’m not sure my car will start. It’s very smashed up.”

“Try the ignition,” Stephano suggested. Mr. Poe nodded and walked back to his car. He sat in the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine made a sharp, wet noise, which oddly sounded like his own coughs, but it didn’t start.

“I’m afraid the engine is quite dead,” Mr. Poe called out still sitting in his car.

Stephano leaned towards the children. “And before long, you will be too,” he muttered to the children. 

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you,” Mr. Poe replied getting out of his car.

“I said, that’s too bad. Why don’t I take the orphans back to the house, and you walk behind us. There isn’t room for everyone in Montgomery’s tiny jeep,”

“But Klaus’ suitcase is here. I don’t want to leave it unattended. Why don’t we put the luggage into your car, and the children and I walk back to the house?”

“Well, one of the children should ride with me, so I won’t get lost,”

“Irrumabo!” Sunny yelled, which meant, “You can literally see the house from where we’re standing. How would you get lost?” and Klaus was quick to translate.

“Mr. Poe can’t you see he doesn’t want us alone with you. He’s afraid that we’ll tell you who he really is and what he is actually up to!” Klaus pleaded.

“What’s he talking about?”

Stephano shot a fierce glare towards Klaus and Sunny as he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea, Mr. Toe.”

“It’s Poe.” 

Klaus had enough of this bullshit. “This man is not Stephano. He’s Count Olaf in disguise!”

“Who?” Stephano asked.

“Count Olaf is a terrible man who abused the children and tried to steal their fortune. The children are very terrified of him,” Mr. Poe explained.

“He sounds terrible...yet handsome,” Stephano commented. “But...do I look anything like this Count Olaf?”

“No, you don’t,” Poe replied coughing again. “Count Olaf has one long eyebrow and he has a very short beard. You have a very long beard, and I hope you don’t mind my saying so, no eyebrows at all.”

“He shaved his eyebrow!”

“Cresbarba!” Sunny shrieked, which probably meant, “he grew his beard!” which Klaus translated.

“ anyone can fucking see that!” Klaus shouted in annoyance.

“Easeaieye!” Sunny shouted, which probably meant, “Except Mr. Poe of course!” 

But instead of translating for his sister, Klaus’ face beamed bright with an idea. “The tattoo! He has a tattoo!” Klaus cried. “He has a tattoo of an eye on his ankle! Mr. Poe look at the tattoo!” Klaus shot Stephano a triumphant look. Stephano shot him a worried look back.

Mr. Poe looked at the children and then at Stephano. “I’m sorry to ask you this, Mr. Stephano. But just to put the children’s minds at ease, would you be so kind as to show us your ankle?”

Stephano again shot a worried look the Baudelaire’s way as smiles began to form on both children’s faces. He sighed and in a defeated tone, he said, “I’d be happy to…” he gestured to his ankles. “Right or left?” 

Klaus closed his eyes and thought for a second. “Left,” he said.

Stephano placed his left foot on the bumper of Uncle Monty’s jeep. Looking at the Baudelaire orphans with a worried expression on his face underneath his shiny, shiny eyes. He began to raise the leg of his stained striped pants ever so slowly. As if he was afraid of what was about to happen next. Finally, the pant leg went up, like a curtain rising to begin a play. But to both children’s dismay and shock, there was no tattoo of an eye to be seen. The Baudelaire orphans’ smiles faded fast as they both realized that Stephano had built the suspense only to torment them some more. Klaus and Sunny stared at a patch of smooth skin, as blank and as pale as their poor Uncle Monty’s face.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #346

“i was in a car crash (or was it the war?)  /  but i’ve never been quite the same”

Do you take lessons for anything? No. Has something really heavy ever fallen on you? Not to my recollection. If you wear makeup, what colors do you usually wear? I don't wear makeup frequently whatsoever, but if I do put some on, it's always black. Does your shower have curtains or a glass door/wall? Curtains. If you have more than one pet, do they ever get jealous of each other? Well, one is a snake and one is a cat, so no, they don't. Is there a room in your house that you don’t like going in? No. Do you remember the last question you were asked? What did you answer? Well, besides in this survey, Mom asked me if I wanted some shrimp she didn't finish. A true stunner, but I didn't want anymore. Besides salt and butter, do you put anything on your popcorn? Nothing other than what was mentioned. Are you lonely? To be totally transparent, I'm extremely lonely on multiple levels. What’s your favorite magazine to read? Don't have one. Do you like pineapple? Yeah. But keep it off my pizza. Have you ever seen fireflies? Yeah, they're common in the summer here. Have you ever trespassed? Not to my knowledge. My sister, neighbor, and I regularly visited this shack as kids, just exploring and checking stuff out, and someone eventually did approach us and tell us to leave, but idk if anyone ACTUALLY owned the property? We never saw any signs. Do you tell your parents where you are going? Yeah; if I live with them, they have the right to know. Do you agree with the notion that all people were created equal? Yeah. Do you raise your hand or participate in class? I did. Do you like visiting the mall? Why or why not? Not really, no. Too many people, too many stores I don't care about, too much walking. Have you ever purposely hurt an animal? I've given pets a pop when they've done something wrong, but seriously hurt, fuck no. Would you ever see a therapist? I've seen a therapist consistently since the 6th grade. Are you afraid of heights? Yes. I used to not be, but it's a fear I've developed over time for no apparent reason. Are you afraid of the dark? No. Are you a jealous person? I was literally just thinking about this yesterday how much I hate how I've developed a jealous and envious side. It's not a feeling I used to experience like at all, so it's very uncomfortable to feel. When is your birthday? February 5th. What are you listening to right now? A John Wolfe playthrough of The Sinking City. It's really interesting and is making me wanna read Lovecraft books, haha. Have you ever been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing? Probably at some point. Are you still friends with someone from kindergarten? No. What is the most important thing to you? My mental health. Do you like whip cream? NO. The taste is fine, but I can't handle the texture of it. Are you close to your mother? Very. Are you close to your father? Yeah, but not as close as I am with my mother. Do you walk around bare foot when you're at home? Or do you wear socks? Yeah, I stay barefoot. Do you like chocolate popsicles? Yessss, I love them. Would you ever be your school’s mascot who wears that costume? Ew, no. Would you rather see the Great Wall of China or Big Ben? Probably the Great Wall. Have you ever written a poem? I've written loads. Would you ever be a tornado chaser? FUCK no. Never, ever, EVER. what is your favorite thing to eat with bbq sauce, if you even like that stuff? I hate barbecue sauce. Your parents tell you that this summer, you get to pick the vacation. Where do you plan to go? As a family? Maybe Alaska. What do you think is a good theme for a prom? Um, maybe princesses and princes? It sounds cute, leave me alone. Have you ever had to do a class in summer school? No. Do you get nervous when you go to the doctor? About what? Not very, but somewhat. I'm always terrified to get on the scale and am also afraid I'll find out I have diabetes with how heavily it runs in my family, and I'm not exactly healthy. Have you ever been to the rainforest? No. As cool as it would be, I would neeeever manage. The humidity would murder me. Have you ever created a website? Yeah, a few. Ever thought about writing a book? Yeah. Have you ever had a dream where you killed someone? I don't think so, but I have nightmares ALL the time where I'm fighting to defend myself. Do you ever make up stories in your head and wish they come true? Daydreams? Oh, yes. Which is worse: stuffy nose or runny nose? STUFFY. Having a runny nose surely isn't fun either, but at least you can have tissues handy. Which is worse: Sick to your stomach or sore throat? 100% sick to your stomach. I do nooot respond well to stomach pain. Do you think your last relationship was a disaster? Not at all. Have you ever solved a Rubik’s Cube? No. Who do you think is the easiest to talk to? Sara or Mom. Would you consider yourself to be emo? I don't care for stereotypes, I'm whatever. Do you have a favourite metal band or do you not like metal? I love metal, and my favorite artist is of course Ozzy Osbourne. What is your current desktop picture? My favorite picture of my late dog Teddy. Thick or thin blanket? I like thick ones. Cozier. Who are your favorite bands? Everyone knows my #1 is Ozzy, so I'll list some of my others that just fall behind him (in no order): Metallica, Otep, Marilyn Manson, Korn, In This Moment, Powerwolf, Motionless In White, Rammstein, A Day to Remember, Cradle of Filth, Mother Mother... There's a lot, really. How do you mark through your word search puzzles? It depends on what I have at my disposal, really. I think typically I would just circle the words with a pencil, but I'd prefer to use a highlighter. Have you ever sewn something? No. What did you eat for dinner last night? Mom made shrimp scampi with a side of white rice. It was delicious. Ever been grounded? If so, for what? Yeah, on multiple occasions. I think the longest was when I ran away from home. Have you seen all of the Jaws movies? No; I've only seen the first one with Tyler. I did, however, have the video game as a kid, and I LOVED it. I could never beat the final stage, though. :( When was the last time you played cards? (not on the computer) Months ago with my niece. She was hooked on playing Uno with me because I always let her win. Have you ever drank cherry Coke? Omg yes, I LOVE it. Have you ever had a black eye? No. Have you ever eaten a bug? No. Do you like pranking people? No. Did you ever take a cooking class in school? No. Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? No. Do you use Skype? Only to talk to Sara. Have you ever participated in local magazine cover girl searches? Definitely not. Have you ever been called a skank/slut because of the way you dress? No. Is your ex sexually attractive to you still? Two are. Describe the most romantic moment you’ve ever had. I'd rather not because it'll really set off my PTSD. Have you ever cheated on a test? Nope. Have you ever been to couple’s counseling? No. How often does your employer ask you to work overtime? N/A Did you often read for fun when you were a kid? I read A LOOOOOT as a kid. I was a total bookworm. When was the last time you were scared? Excluding in nightmares that I don't remember, uhhh probably back when my PHP therapist surprised me by whipping out a poem I'd written and sharing it in front of the whole group. It wasn't the "bad" kind of scared, but I sure did feel fear. What’s your favorite song by Rihanna? "Disturbia" has always been #1. There's this '80s synthwave remix of the song that I adorrrreeee. Can you speak binary? Nope. Would you rather live somewhere that had hurricanes or tornadoes? I've dealt with hurricanes all my life and they don't terrify me NEARLY as much as the mere idea of a tornado, so. Have you ever had a pet that you disliked? None that were mine personally, but coincidentally, I didn't like two dogs my little sister had. The first one was just mildly annoying, and as much as I hate admitting it, I literally hated her last dog. When was the last time you saw hail? Maybe like... a month ago or something like that? Time is kinda blurry for me on this. We had an absolute downpour of hail one morning, then just... nothing. What is on your mind right this second: I have this at-home sleep study tonight and I'm pretty much obsessing over "what if I don't have a nightmare?" when, for ONCE, I want/need myself to. To be real, I don't know exactly what will change in my life if I do have a sleep apnea diagnosis or something that we're not already doing, but. Mom more than anyone just wants professionals to see that something is seriously wrong and needs fixing. Have you ever given a nickname to your pet(s)? Both have them, yeah. I think I call Venus "Miss Venus" more than her real name, then she's also "baby girl," "pretty," "beautiful girl," etc. I call Roman just "butt" a lot, haha, then there's "son," "Mama's boy," "bud"... When was the last time you shaved your legs? Not since last October. Nobody sees my legs, so I just don't care. Do you ever try free samples at the store? Sure, if I'm actually interested in the food. Do you like boys with long hair? That's actually my preference. Do you like rootbeer? It's not insufferable, but I'm not really a fan. What is the best fast food place, in your opinion? Sonic. Do you have faith in yourself? What a question to end it on, 'cuz I don't have a fuckin' clue these days.

[cyberneticlagomorph]

7×7

The darkness is all consuming.

Oppressive.

Cold.

Like deep, dark water that never ends. It renders the Warren, your home, alien. Your skin refuses to light, leaving you blind.

But it's not the smothering blackness that unsettles you, no, it's the harsh scream that echoes down hallways, once familiar.

Your feet move of their own accord, dragging you towards the sounds of wounded animals and feral beasts. The lights in the hallway gutter like a horror movie cliché, your security cameras hang limply from their wires.

The devices themselves have been reduced to twisted clumps of plastic and metal.

Beneath the inconsistent light, you find handprints and names scrawled in blood on the walls.

Someone is trying too hard to impress you.

To terrify you with overdone concepts that wouldn't spook a small child.

You've lived through worse, done worse.

As you come across your family, deranged and rabid, gnawing the flesh from each other's bones as they babble on about names and the number seven, you cannot find it in you to be afraid.

Not now, not this time.

As Jeanne looks up from the half eaten corpse of a child and snarls at you with her lipless grinning maw, you do not flinch. Even though you have no control here, and you couldn't run if you wanted to, this all plays out like some kind of contrived formality. Like some sort of mandatory presentation that you're being forced to sit through.

When the mutilated dream version of your wife sprints after you on all four grotesquely elongated limbs, screeching like an animal, you feel nothing.

Nothing but annoyance. A feeling that intensifies as your body moves against your will, taking a step back, only for the floor to drop out from beneath you.

Of course it does.

You plunge into an abandoned well full of cold, slimy, black water. Moss crawls along the wet stone walls as ferns spring up from the cracks. Black candles with green flames sit in little hollows where the oldest stones have gone missing, they melt into waxy stalactites and are your only illumination down here as you suddenly regain control over your body, fighting your way to the surface of the water. It smells like rotting flesh and old blood, bits of rot and mold cling to your wet skin, refusing to wash off as you feebly cling to the side of the well.

You shiver, cold and angry, gazing up towards the mouth of this watery hell earns you nothing but darkness. Growling, you cut your finger on your own teeth, writing Correspondence on your palm. It burns, burns like the stars that speak these symbols as their native tongue. You draw the symbol for "to beg for aid from a dear friend", and hold your scorched hand over the nearest candle.

It doesn't take Him long to respond, no.

As always, His entrance into your dreams is immaculate. It feels inexorable, like sunlight bearing pleasantly down on you, gentle claws prying your head open and filling you with a somnolent calm. The presence is sifting through you with deft ease, and unusual gentleness for a creature of such loud and large disposition. The Dream feels... realer, more solid with Him in it.

Again, you stare up, up into the once darkness of your watery prison. Mr Nights, merchant of dreams and candles, gazes down at you with glowing golden eyes. As He reaches down to help you up, the well becomes shallower, and soon he can scoop you up by the scruff like a wayward kitten. You open your mouth to thank him, but are torn from his grasp and sent plummeting back into the well before a sound can leave your lips.

Nights hisses, and seven times seven more serpentine sounds answer his fury. Rising from the black water is a septet of massive snake heads, they curl around you and speak in seven times seven tongues.

"How rude, how cruel. Who told you that you could bring a plus one to this private party?" whispers your captor. Trapped in this tangled mess of a beast, you are dragged ever deeper into the water.

"UNHAND HIM," Mr Nights spreads his glittering wings wide, he is a beautiful creature, something like a very very large white bat with horns, dressed in fine cloaks. The dream starts to warp around him, but the seven headed serpent seems unimpressed.

"Oh, I don't think I will, no, Jack and I need to have a little talk, now don't we?" it coils ever tighter around you, bones snap and cybernetics crunch beneath the force of it all. You weren't scared before, but you are now. The pain feels too real.

You wonder if you can die in this dream.

One head out of seven starts to circle you, your face is the only thing above water now.

"Hello again, Jack, I'd say it's been awhile but I've seen you every night this month now haven't I?" it gazes at you with empty eye sockets clotted with fruiting fungal bodies and bright flowers, vines and mushrooms spangle the length of its neck, probably terminating wherever it joins with the main body.

You couldn't respond if you wanted to, too busy trying not to drown. Mr Nights is trying to come to your rescue, but whatever He warps snaps right back like a rubber band. The serpent grows tired of Him and coils tight around Him too. You swear you hear something crack within those coils. The serpent says something snotty about how feeble Nights seems, especially after all the hype.

Your vision is obscured by water and snake, it stares you down as you choke on the filthy water. Forked tongues flick across your ears as whispered voices fill your aching skull,

"Hello, my sweet, stupid thing," it coos in a voice like a forest on fire, like sunlight filtering through leaves, like weeds swallowing a house left to rot, "Did you think that milk teeth and daydreams could keep me at bay forever?"

It sounds amused as it lifts you ever so slightly from the water. Blood and filth pour from your mouth and nose as you stare dazed at the creature, "Wh-- what do… you.. wa--want?" you words are a painful gurgle, the last breaths of a drowned thing.

You wonder if you will be devoured like He was…

Like She was.

"My name, what is my name. Who am I to you? Oh great and powerful Jack D'Arc, slayer of gods, unrepentant slut and biggest meddler in the multiverse." a hiss, you can taste the bitterness in those words, you can taste the knowingness behind them. There is something here that just doesn't add up.

But you know who this creature is.

You've known for years.

And it has known you for longer than either of you can readily remember.

It has visited your dreams, lived in your subconscious for decades.

You can remember when it was just one endless serpent with a head of flame, asking for its name in a ruined city.

You slump in its grasp, struggling to draw breath, "Y-you are the End-of-everything, the seven times seven named serpent," a pause, a swallow, the taste of death on your tongue, "I am supposed to fight you, imprison you inside inside myself to stop the destruction of the multiverse as we know it… you will be my Prisoner… and I your Warden."

Your secret is heavy, and it falls from your lips like a stone. The End seems dissatisfied. It turns fourteen eyes on you, eyes that burn or do not exist, eyes that are empty sockets, eyes that multiply ad infinitum.

"How crude, how fucking hamfisted is that to name me 'The End'? Has he truly run out of ideas so quickly?" the questions don't seem to be directed towards you so much as it's being spoken at you with the same disgruntled tone as a retail customer bitching about a problem that isn't half as bad as they think.

"No matter," the End says, to you this time, "soon you will learn the truth of this world, everyone will learn the truth of this world. Won't that be fun?"

All seven heads seem to smile at you as wax starts to pour into the well, burning you alive while you simultaneously drown in the scalding liquid.

You wax with a start, falling off of your sister's couch and onto the floor, scaring the shit out of her in the process.

"You good soft boy?" she asks, but you don't hear here, you're too busy crawling towards the bathroom.

Trembling, sore, and scared, you cling to the toilet bowl.

With your stomach emptied, you close the lid and rest your head on it. You flush without looking, why would you bother? It's the same thing you've thrown up night after night of having that nightmare.

Pitch black candle wax.

The same wax you drowned in, the same wax now dripping from your nose and caking your lips.

You won't try sleeping again, not now, not after that.

If a literal dream god like Mr Nights can't help you, then who can?

[sterekationstation]

Better Fortunes

//This is a fic I wrote for the @stereksummerexchange as a gift for @theydraggedmein, who wrote an incredible prompt. It’s the longest thing I’ve written to date!!! I’d love to hear y’all’s feedback <3//

SUMMARY:

When a group of sinister men attempt to kidnap Stiles Stilinski from the Brooklyn apartment he shares with his stepsister, Lydia, Stiles is forced to activate a spell that translocates him to where he'll be safest. Derek Hale isn't sure what to do about the soaking wet young man he finds wandering down a Beacon County roadside during the middle of a thunderstorm, but he feels compelled to help him. There's something about Stiles that Derek finds fascinating, and before long the two become embroiled in each other's lives. Despite the threat to his life and the sudden upheaval of everything he's ever known, Stiles is having a hard time feeling too upset about that.

1.

The void goes on forever. There is no sound, no light, no sense of time or motion. He floats in a nowhere place, defined by the absence of anything but a cold that is so absolute it becomes a weight. It bears down on him, snaking into his bones, his heart, his mind. He can feel the very foundation of his being cracking under that gelid pressure. Thoughts and memories coalesce, become amorphous and vague. He tries to open his mouth to scream, but physicality feels like the dream of a stranger, and with a jolt of horror he realizes that he can't remember where his mouth is.

The agony goes on and on until he knows, without any doubt, that it will destroy him. The void will break him down until there's nothing left but spare parts, and it will truly, finally, be the end of him.

And then, completely without warning, he wakes up.

Consciousness hits Stiles like a sledgehammer. He gasps, the ragged tearing sound of his own inhalation nearly deafening him as he rolls onto his stomach. He swallows down the taste of bile and curls into the fetal position, trying valiantly not to throw up. The cool air stings his throat as he takes in desperate, greedy breaths, struggling to rein in the trembling of his limbs. Every nerve in his body is screaming, hypersensitive to the point of physical pain. He whimpers at the taste of his own tongue, reels at the sensation of his blood pounding through his veins. Never has he been so aware of his own heartbeat.

The smell of rich wet soil fills Stiles’ nose as he attempts to blink the phosphenes out of his eyes, and it takes him a long, terrifying moment to reassure himself that he hasn’t gone blind; the sky overhead is dark. It’s the middle of the night here, wherever here is, and because his entire life has been one example of Murphy’s Law after another, rain is pouring out of the pitch-black sky in unending sheets, plastering his hair to his face and soaking through the layers of his clothes.

Slowly, and with the help of a nearby sapling, Stiles levers himself first onto his knees, and then fully, if awkwardly, upright. He battles back another wave of nausea as he performs a cursory check for bodily damage.

All things considered, he’s managed to come out okay. The knife wound on his forearm is still bleeding sluggishly, so he tears a strip off of the hem of his t-shirt and binds it sloppily around the incision. He tries to ignore the way his fingers fumble and shake. The back of his head is throbbing where one of his would-be kidnappers had walloped him, and he hisses in pain as he tentatively pokes at the lump. In his torso there’s the sharp, persistent burn of a broken rib, probably sustained as the result of the fall from his second story bedroom window, but his legs are miraculously free of any injury other than what feels like a bone-deep bruise. He hopes that the relative easiness of his breathing means that the rib hasn’t punctured anything important.

The rancid cherry on top of the shit cake that has so far been his day reveals itself when, in an attempt to get his bearings, he holds out a hand and murmurs a conjuring of light. Where there should have been a globe of steady warm illumination, only a weak hiccupping glow flickers in and out of the air above his dirty palm. Stiles lets his eyes fall shut in dismay.  His reserves must be almost completely dry. He can barely feel his magic, a guttering flame in his mind’s eye– even the booster runes tattooed along the dip of his navel are kicked. A shudder trips up his spine, and he wraps his arms tightly around himself to ward it off, chilled by more than the rain and the coolness of the night air.

Light blossoms in the distance, cascading through the backdrop of trees with the accompanying hiss of tires on pavement. Stiles flinches away instinctively, fear and pain constricting his lungs before he forces himself to take slow, intentional breaths. If all has gone the way he’d planned, logical certainty dictates that wherever he is, he’s far away from the people who had come for him in his crappy little apartment in Greenpoint.

The incantation had been over six months in the making, after a truly disconcerting bit of fortune telling courtesy of an oracle in Astoria. The prediction had been given as part payment for a tidy bit of warding he’d done along the storefront of the seer’s newly opened bakery.

Stiles had sat at one of the rickety tables near the big picture window, surreptitiously brushing flaky crumbs of phyllo dough off his chest. The oracle, a Greek woman of indiscernible age who had introduced herself as Pythia, had sat across from him and stared out into the middle distance, dark eyes turning vacant and distant. Slowly, and to his alarm, her irises had begun to shrink, first to the size of her pupils, and then to the size of pins. Soon, all that had been left was the unblemished white of the sclera.

“You are wanted,” she had said, the words hissing out of her like they were travelling a very far distance. “But it is not you that they want. They know what lies sleeping in your depths. They are the invaders, the desecrators. They will come for you, and you will unravel.”

Until that moment, Stiles had scoffed at most assertions of fortune-telling, finding little to no evidence to substantiate those claims. Despite this, there had been something about the look on the oracle’s face that had shaken him. She had patted his hand, pitying, perhaps, or regretful, but still completely resigned to the outcome of her prediction.

“Sorry,” she had said. “You are a sweet boy, and I knew your mother. If I could, I would have given you a better fortune. A long, happy life. Adventure, family, romance with a dark-haired stranger. At least now you have a bit of time, to prepare.”

And prepare he had. If there is one thing Stiles is good at, it’s having a plan. He’d thrown himself into research, and after six months of wading through magical theory, he’d developed a prototype. A little bit of blood coupled with the right words and his own special brand of intent, and Stiles would be transported instantly to the place where he would be safest. It had been a completely unorthodox marriage of blood magic and highly theoretical teleportation metaphysics, and once Stiles figures out where he is and has a moment to repress the soul-shattering horror of the void he'd traveled through to get here, he’s going to find the time to be very impressed with himself.

The distant car passes without incident, and Stiles lets out a tense breath. Standing in the dark getting soaked is not helping his current situation, no matter how attached he’s gotten to the tree he’s been using as a crutch. He needs to find civilization, needs to try to get word back to Lydia so that she knows he isn’t dead, needs to find a place with a hot shower. With a grunt, he gives the trunk of the sapling an affectionate pat, and then begins the slow and painful trek towards the road.

2.

Derek wonders sourly if there’s anyone out there having a worse night than he is. Rain floods out of the sky in biblical quantities, making it nearly impossible to see– the Camaro’s wipers are doing their best, but it’s a losing battle. The storm had already been in full swing by the time he had beat a hasty retreat from his now very ex-girlfriend’s apartment in Redding, and the deluge seems to have no intention of letting up anytime soon. If the visibility gets any worse, he’ll have to pull over and wait for the storm to pass. Derek squints out into the night and tries not to draw any parallels between the weather and the current state of his love life.

His phone begins to buzz in the passenger seat, and for one tempting moment Derek considers letting himself believe that he can’t hear it over the pounding of the rain. He glances over and sees the smiling face of his beloved older sister on the incoming call screen, and bites back a groan. If he doesn't pick up, Laura will just keep calling, and Derek knows from experience that if she still can't get ahold of him, she'll just show up at his house. Better to answer now and get it out of the way.  Derek slides his thumb along the answer bar and transfers the call to the Camaro’s Bluetooth function, letting the phone drop onto his lap as he navigates a tricky curve in the road.

“Laura, I’m driving–,” he begins, and then winces when her voice fills the car’s interior, shrill with righteous indignation.

“Derek Edmund Hale, how could you!”

And this is why you should never date your sister’s friends.

“Look, Laura, I–”

“Jennifer is a wonderful person! You two were perfect together!”

“Lau–”

“She’s smart, beautiful, and very career oriented! What more could you possibly ask for?”

“Maybe you should date her,” Derek mutters, and then before Laura can finish drawing in an outraged breath he adds, “personally, I prefer it when the person I’m seeing isn’t also hooking up with their ex.”

For one blessed moment, silence reigns aside from the pounding of the rain. Then, with a remarkable show of adaptability, Laura snarls,

“That fucking bitch.”

“Language,” Derek says absently. “You have tiny ears in your house.”

“The kids are asleep,” Laura huffs dismissively. “I could parade through the living room with a marching band and they wouldn’t notice. Stop trying distract me.”

“I’m not,” he lies. “But, Laura, it’s fine.”

“I disagree,” Laura growls. “I think I should rip out her spleen and feed it to her. How could she?”

She’s your sister, he reminds himself. She’s your last remaining family member in the world and you love each other, and that means not throttling her when she’s being overbearing and self-righteous.

“Laura,” he says calmly, “I promise you that it isn’t that big of a deal. I’m not even that upset. Ultimately, Jennifer and I didn’t like each other very much. It was going to end either way. I think we only kept up the charade because we were both afraid of disappointing you.”

There’s a stiff pause on the other end of the line, and Derek viciously stomps down on a pang of guilt. Laura has been butting her head into his love life since he’s been old enough to understand why certain people made his face get all red. She means well– Laura is truly incapable of meaning otherwise– but over the years her machinations have led to disastrous and mortifying results for Derek. He’s hoping that this time, she’ll take the hint.

“She still deserves to rot in hell,” Laura mutters finally, but it sounds like the wind has definitely been taken out of her sails.

“Look, can we talk about this tomorrow?” Derek squints, trying to make out a blob of color that his lights have just picked up in the distance. The implacable rain is making it incredibly difficult to discern what the shape could be. A person walking along the side of the road, maybe? He hasn’t passed any broken-down cars, and the last rest stop was about fourteen miles back, so it seems bizarre for there to be someone wandering around out here. He hesitates, and then eases his foot onto the break. “I have to go, there’s someone on the road.”

“What?” Laura’s voice goes Alpha sharp with alarm. “Have they been hit?”

“I don’t think so,” he says slowly. He can see clearer now that he’s slowed down some. It’s a guy, he thinks, walking just off the shoulder of the road, hunched down into himself to keep the rain out of his eyes. “I think he’s lost. I’m going to see if he needs help. Call you in the morning.”

“Derek, wait,” Laura begins, but Derek has already ended the call.

He pulls up alongside the walking person, schooling his features into what he hopes is a friendly expression before rolling down the passenger’s side window.

“Hey, there,” he calls, leaning across the gearshift to get a closer look at the drenched figure. “You okay? Need a ride?”

The guy’s shoulders tense at Derek’s words, and he turns to face the car slowly, like he’s afraid of what he might see. It’s dark as hell out there, but in the reflected glow of his headlights Derek can make out a white angular face under a sopping mop of dark hair. Young, but maybe not as young as he looks– there’s a hint of a tattoo on the sliver of pale throat poking out from the guy’s hoodie.

“You some kind of crazy murderer, or what?” the kid asks. He shuffles closer to the car, mouth twisting into an unimpressed grimace.

“What?”

Derek blinks at him, thrown by the bluntness of the question. The kid huffs and makes an odd gesture with his hands, leaning in to meet Derek’s gaze with a hard stare. His eyes, a tawny brown that might have been warm under different circumstances, are huge in his pale face, rain water dripping from his long lashes and off the upturned slope of his nose. A few drops hit the leather interior of the passenger door with an audible splat. He looks too young to be out in the middle of nowhere by himself, and painfully exhausted, so when he finally speaks, Derek is startled by the intensity in his voice.

“Bear you any ill will unto me?”

Ah. So, the kid is a lunatic. Derek should have known better. What kind of person goes for a walk in the pouring rain at midnight? Still, he’s a little offended. He opens his mouth to tell the kid so, and is therefore completely flummoxed when what he says is,

“I bear you no ill will.”

They stare at each other a little more, rain now fully soaking through the remaining dry patches of the kid’s hoodie. And why are there dry patches? It’s been pouring for hours, and there isn’t anything but woods along this stretch of road. Derek wonders if the kid has been in some kind of accident. The very tip of his pink tongue rests against the bow of his upper lip as he inhales, like he’s tasting the truth of Derek’s words.

“Okay,” he says, finally. “Cool. No hospitals.”

And before Derek can ask him what he means, the kid’s eyes roll back into his head and he crumples like a discarded toy onto the pavement.

Read the rest here on AO3!!!

[xlardx]

fuck man i gotta share this somewhere

so i’m on vacation in this old ass lake house that my family has been going to for the past 30 years or so. I’ve been coming here since i was a baby, for two weeks every summer. My grandparents recently sold their jet skis so i’ve had no way of getting out on the water and frankly i’m pretty bored of this stupid place anyway. I came up with one of the dumbest, riskiest, and possibly most dangerous ideas i’ve ever conceived. Usually ideas like this get laughed at and scrapped, but not this time. I wanted to sneak out around 2 in the morning, go out to the private beach, and skinny dip. Originally, i was just going to go out and stand on the beach, but hell, where’s the fun in that? So, at around 1:40 in the morning (I was too anxious and excited to wait until 2), on my last day of vacation here, I fucking did it. I opened the downstairs door as quietly as physically possible. My parents and brother were all fast asleep, and I could still here my dad snoring in the living room almost right above me. The loud air conditioning kicked in right as I went to open up the door, giving me additional noise coverage that had fabulous timing. I slipped out the door and closed it behind me and boom- I was out of the house. My legs were shaking worse than they had in a long time- it was my first time sneaking out, after all. I had a towel under one arm and my phone flashlight in my hand. Holy shit.

I got down to the water cautiously- a labyrinth of hills and trees and leaves and possible snakes separated the house from the beach. After a few of the scariest minutes of my life in which I kept chanting to myself “this can’t be real, this can’t be real”, I made it down to the water. It was absolutely fucking gorgeous. The sky was clearer than it had been in recent memory, and the stars shone through like diamonds. The moon was on the other side of the tree coverage, but it still cast down rays of light through the holes in the foliage. A smokestack in the far distance was lit up almost cinematically- it was the one of the prettiest man-made structures i’ve ever seen with the lighting it had. The water was dark, yet each little ripple reflected light from the stars. God, it was so perfect. The waves were peaceful. The only thing you could hear were the bugs in the distance, calling you out for a mate, and the beautifully natural sounds of the beach. I fell in love, but it was still hard to fathom that I was even standing there in the first place. I remembered my foolhardy plan and went to kick off my flip flops and take off my clothes. I hesitated for a good minute- what I was doing was stupid and unnecessarily rebellious, but at the same time, it felt meaningful in some obscure way. I bit the bullet after my paranoia was positive that no one was around to see me and took off my clothes. With shaky hands, feet, and nerves, I stepped into the water. After it had reached about knee depth, I sat down and just about immersed myself in the black expanse. I was afraid to go any further simply because I had no idea what was out there, especially at night. I had no flashlight, no lifeline, and an endless list of reasons as to why I should have just ran back up to the lake house and prayed for forgiveness. Still, though, I sat there and let the water seep into every part of my uncovered body. It was amazing. Then, truly, is when I was able to enjoy my surroundings. The place that I had grown to know so well after going there for 14 years was entirely different at night- different things were accentuated, new sounds arose, and I had none- zero- physical restrictions. Lightning struck in the distance and lit up patches of clouds miles and miles away from my resting place, but it was accompanied by neither thunder nor rain. It only added to the beauty, but at the same time, I believe it was one of my motivations for getting out before I was there for too long. Eventually, my paranoia returned and I was terrified- simply terrified- of getting caught in the position I was in. With reluctance, I stood up in the water and felt more vulnerable than I’ve felt in a long time. I was naked and cold and so utterly exposed- my mother would truly have been ashamed. I clambered up the shore with zeal, dried off, and threw my clothes back on. I had sand covering my feet which spread to my shorts, but I knew i’d be able to wash it out once I got back inside. I checked my phone: 1:51 AM. I undressed at 1:42. Not even a full ten minutes. I felt like a coward in that moment but hell, it was better than getting caught by sneaking back in right as my little brother finished using the bathroom, right?

It was bold and stupid and beautiful and risky- I returned inside and washed my feet off, all the while still trying to remind myself that what had happened was truly real and not just a dream. It was unlike anything i’d ever done before and anything I thought I was capable of. When I climbed back into bed after covering all my tracks and being certain that I had gone undetected, I sighed in satisfaction. I had done something that I was certain would become a slight trend as high school began. Something to remember and relish. Something to look back on in twenty years and smile about. It truly was beautiful and I somehow don’t regret it in the slightest. Next year, I’m sure I’ll be doing it a hell of a lot more.

[imchangkyute]

1-100

holy cow ok here we go

1. What is you middle name? Kristina2. How old are you? Turning 22 in november~3. When is your birthday? november 13th4. What is your zodiac sign? scorpio5. What is your favorite color? mint/pastel green6. What’s your lucky number? 117. Do you have any pets? no:(8. Where are you from? Sweden9. How tall are you? 165 cm10. What shoe size are you? 3711. How many pairs of shoes do you own? probably 15 ish if you count all seasonal shoes >.>12. What was your last dream about? i dreamt that some people from my school came to my house and wanted to have a bbq??13. What talents do you have? none lmao i’m really good at hugging does that count14. Are you psychic in any way? nope15. Favorite song? as of right now, love whisper by gfriend or newton by monsta x  or fly high by dreamcatcher i can’t decide lol. 16. Favorite movie? idk if I have one? I really like Mulan17. Who would be your ideal partner? lee jooheon18. Do you want children? idk maybe in a distant future19. Do you want a church wedding? nope20. Are you religious? nope21. Have you ever been to the hospital? not for anything serious22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? lol no23. Have you ever met any celebrities? yes a swedish football player and a norweigan talk show host. both came to the store i work in lol24. Baths or showers? showers25. What color socks are you wearing? not wearing socks rn26. Have you ever been famous? no27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? no28. What type of music do you like? kpop >.>29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? yes!30. How many pillows do you sleep with? three31. What position do you usually sleep in? on my side32. How big is your house? rn i live in my parents house which is not that big33. What do you typically have for breakfast? sandwiches and eggs, or yogurt and granola34. Have you ever fired a gun? nooooo35. Have you ever tried archery? no36. Favorite clean word? shenanigans (it’s a fantastic word)37. Favorite swear word? balls. is that even a swear word38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? i have no idea, a little over 24 hours?39. Do you have any scars? only a few really small ones on my hands40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? not that have made themselves known lol41. Are you a good liar? yes42. Are you a good judge of character? i’d like to think so43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? yes i’m pretty good at doing accents!44. Do you have a strong accent? in swedish yes in english no45. What is your favorite accent? i love scottish46. What is your personality type? infj47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? a wool coat i bought last winter48. Can you curl your tongue? no:(49. Are you an innie or an outie? innie50. Left or right handed? right handed51. Are you scared of spiders? yes they’re terrifying D:52. Favorite food? any kind of pasta~53. Favorite foreign food? kimchi54. Are you a clean or messy person? i’m somewhere in between…55. Most used phrased? what the fuck56. Most used word? why57. How long does it take for you to get ready? like 15-30 minutes depending on how much effort i put in58. Do you have much of an ego? not really no59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? suck lol60. Do you talk to yourself? literally all the time61. Do you sing to yourself? also literally all the time (as long as i am completely alone)62. Are you a good singer? hahah no63. Biggest Fear? snakes64. Are you a gossip? nooo65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? idk66. Do you like long or short hair? long hair67. Can you name all 50 states of America? nope68. Favorite school subject? I liked english and psychology69. Extrovert or Introvert? introvert70. Have you ever been scuba diving? no i’d be too scared to ever even try71. What makes you nervous? feeling like i have no control over a situation72. Are you scared of the dark? a little73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? sometimes74. Are you ticklish? yes very75. Have you ever started a rumor? would never do that76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? no?77. Have you ever drank underage? yes78. Have you ever done drugs? once 79. Who was your first real crush? i get crushes on ppl all the time i don’t even remember the first one80. How many piercings do you have? two in my ears81. Can you roll your Rs?“ yes 82. How fast can you type? pretty fast idk what unit i should answer in lmao83. How fast can you run? in high school i could run 100m in like 14 seconds idk about now though84. What color is your hair? blonde85. What color is your eyes? blue86. What are you allergic to? nothing87. Do you keep a journal? no i used when i was younger though88. What do your parents do? my mom’s a kindergarten teacher and my dad is an economist89. Do you like your age? i guess?90. What makes you angry? ignorant people91. Do you like your own name? I do actually92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? no babies are in a too distant future for me to be thinking about names93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? girl94. What are you strengths? i’m kind and helpful and i’m good at making people feel good about themselves95. What are your weaknesses? i’m lazy and i hold grudges96. How did you get your name? My great grandmother’s name was Anna and my mom wanted me to be called something similar to that so she named me Hanna lol97. Were your ancestors royalty? not that i know98. Do you have any scars? didn’t i already answer this99. Color of your bedspread? pink and white100. Color of your room? white walls and furniture. grey and blue on most fabrics (curtains, pillows and stuff)

wow this was fun, thank you for saving me from boredom! >.>

[yourswordship]

10-10-10 Tag

I was tagged back by @crossroadsred and @sweatersonlambs

(I was gonna do two separate posts, but I was tagged a while ago by both of them and I know if I don’t do them both right now I never will! So you guys are getting a two-fer!)

@crossroadsred ‘s questions:

1. If you could travel to any time period, which one would you choose?

I wanna say something a little less cliche, but probably the 20′s in New York. Or maybe Ancient Greece. You know what, I think I’m liking the idea of Ancient Greece more. Like there’s so many questions! There’s so many gaps, things we don’t know about them. And the things we do know are pretty damn cool. So yeah Ancient Greece. Though I’d love to have my own Midnight in Paris type thing too.

2. If you could travel to any fictional world or universe, which one would it be?

I feel like a lot of the shows I watch are in places that I really wouldn’t want to ever find myself in (*cough cough* Game of Thrones). I think the the world in Avatar The Last Airbender would be pretty cool though! Especially if I had cool bending powers too!

3. What does your dream house/apartment look like? Where would it be (city, countryside, etc.)?

I always go back and forth with this. Part of me wants to live in a cozy apartment in a city. I just love the accessibility and energy of cities. But another part of me really likes the idea of living in the countryside in a small cottage type house, you know? I feel suffocated and get overwhelmed pretty easily. I guess I don’t really know what my dream house or apartment would be. Or even where it would be. But regardless I think it’d be cozy. I don’t that’d I be happy in a huge mansion. Just more to clean. I tend to have a favorite nook or room and never leave that area anyways, so yeah definitely small and cozy for me. Oh and this is a bit random but, I love fireplaces so my dream place would definitely have one. And a garden too.

4. What’s your favorite possession?

Would it be really materialistic of me to say my laptop?

5. If you had to eat or drink something for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Lemonade! I was obsessed with it when I was a kid- like my mom would buy me the powdered packages of pink lemonade so that I could make it at home easily. Like just buying a jug of it wasn’t enough. And yeah, that obsession never really went away, though it did tone down a bit.

6. If you had the opportunity to turn a book into a movie or tv show, which would it be? Would you prefer a movie or a tv show? Who would you cast?

I used to have an answer for this- 13 Reasons Why. It was one of the few books I actually read once I got to middle school age, and I really liked it and connected to it. Obviously it’s a Netflix show now, but I think it’s still a valid answer cause I didn’t really love it. I think it would’ve made a much better movie. I get the whole 13 reasons, so let’s do 13 episodes thing. But it was too drawn out. And they changed a lot. I know why they did, but I didn’t think it was necessary. They just tried to squeeze too much into it.  I don’t really have anyone in mind to cast either. One thing I did like about the show is they cast a not well known actress for the lead. I’d like to do that as well if I were to make it into a movie.

7. What’s something that you’ve always wanted to learn (language, skill, subject, etc.)?

Languages for sure! All of them. I took Italian all through high school and even a bit in college, but I swear I cannot speak a word of it. I think I’d like to be fluent in all the romance languages. I also took a Latin class in a recent semester and I actually loved it. 

8. Pick three characters. Which one would you want to be partnered up with for lab? Which one would you want to be stuck in an elevator with for an hour? Which one would you want to be stuck on a deserted island with?

Partner for a lab: Kala from Sense8. For obvious reasons. But also I relate to her so much, so I think it’d actually be a good time.

Stuck in an elevator: Jake Peralta from Brooklyn Nine-Nine. He’s super funny so we’d have no problem passing the time. And also he’s a police officer so he’s good in emergencies too.

Deserted Island: Rey from Star Wars. I just like her, okay? And she’s pretty crafty so she’d probably find a way to get us home.

9. Name something good that’s happened to you this year. It can be anything.

I got a job after having to take a year long medical leave from school. Making money and feeling like I’ve accomplished something has really helped me through the sort of detour I’ve taken with my education. I also got promoted after a month at said job. And yeah, that felt pretty good. I still have a lot of self doubt for sure, but I don’t feel like a complete failure anymore.

10. What’s a weird fact you know?

In ancient times, there were professional mourners. Women were paid to mourn- like hardcore bawling, screaming, clawing at their face type mourning. (I definitely have better ones, but this is what I got for ya right now.)

@sweatersonlambs ‘s questions:

1. Pitch me a movie you wish you could write.

Okay I actually started writing this a million years ago, but here it is: Death tracks down a teenage girl who has the power to heal people, even those inches away from death. But Death doesn’t want to get rid of her- they want to work with her. Death is going rogue. They’re tired of collecting people’s souls and having no control over it. They’re basically the world’s most infamous garbage man. But is the responsibility of choosing who lives and dies too much? And who’s decision is it their’s or the girl’s?  

2. If you had a podcast, what would it be about? Basically, what could you talk about for an hour every week?

Make up? I'm not sure. I don’t really listen to podcasts, so I’m not sure what would work or not. I mean are make up podcasts a thing?

3. Talk to me about your pets! If you don’t have one, I want to hear about the pet of your dreams.

I don’t have a pet unfortunately. And shockingly, to myself and everyone who knows me, I think I’d want a dog. I used to be a cat only kind of person, but dogs have really grown on me. When I was a kid, I was terrified of them. I’m not anymore. And in a way getting a dog would be like the final step of overcoming that. Though I suppose that’s a very selfish reason. Really I just want cuddles. And all I want is a pet who wants cuddles too. So dog, cat, or stuffed animal, I think I’ll be happy. I do envision myself with a gentle giant type dog for some reason though. Maybe a Saint Bernard or even a Great Dane.

4. When did you feel the most proud of yourself?

Most recently in getting and keeping my current job. I’m taking a medical leave from school and honestly I wasn’t sure I’d be physically able to devote the amount of time and energy into this job. But I have. And I have had obstacles, hospital stays, getting sick at work, etc. But I haven’t quit. And that feels good. Cause sometimes I feel like that’s all I do. It’s not always my fault, I know. But the point is I feel somewhat normal. And even though I’m fighting hard behind the scenes for what comes naturally to so many others, I’m fucking doing it.

5. What are you looking forward to next week?

I don’t think I have any real plans yet. So 1) sleeping. And 2) going outside. It’s starting to actually feel like summertime and I really want to be present this summer.

6. Tell me about your favorite dessert. I want all of the details.

Oh god, the hard part about this question is picking just one favorite. I’m gonna go with the comfort food choice. Monkey bread. And I’m talking homemade. Gooey cinnamon sugar goodness. 

7. Who is your favorite drag queen on “RuPaul’s Drag Race”? If you haven’t seen the show, please explain why.

Okay so I haven’t actually seen her on the show cause I don’t really watch it to be honest. But I’m definitely a fan of Shangela’s. She hosted the drag show my university did and she was just perfection. She ended the show with this routine to a mash up of Beyonce hits and it was BREATHTAKING.

8. What is your favorite thing to watch on TV while hung over?

Cartoons probably. Usually Avatar The Last Airbender. 

9. Please share your favorite animal fact.

That snakes (the common ones people own at least) are the chillest pets in the world. The ball python got it’s name because it curls into a ball when it’s nervous or threatened, rather than attacking. Not really a fun fact necessarily, but I was a bit stuck on this one. I’ll think of something way better right after I post this, just wait.

10. What would you bring to a potluck? In other words, what is your favorite thing to cook for friends?

Chocolate chip cookies. I’ve perfected the recipe. Okay it’s from a Martha Stewart cookbook, but I have altered it a little over time I swear. At one point I was making these so often I had the recipe memorized.

So I’m not writing any questions since I’ve already done this tag. Though I was tempted to, this tag is fun!

I am however tagging anyone who wants to do this! Anddd you have two different sets of questions to choose from! Both @crossroadsred and @sweatersonlambs brought their A game with these questions!