#this is only one of so many moments that are gunna live in my memory like a beloved chachki on a grandmas shelf

[generallyjl]

truly a game changer episode of all time

[kaliforniahigh]

Can I have something angsty,sad,fluffy,(smutty if you want) ?

Reader is on the thicker/chubby side (a few tummy rolls and thick thighs) and she thinks Noah is only with her to say he's been with a fat chick or it's some fetish thing. Reader doesn't understand how he can be attracted to someone like her. Normal 9-5 job, not rich, shitty apartment, shitty car...just getting though life and they met by chance. Maybe he liked that she treated him like a regular person even though she knew who he was, like a "yeah, I know who you are...so what 🙄😐🤷🏼‍♀️" kinda thing.

Not gunna lie the "never been with a big girl" shit has happened way more than I'd like...and honestly, I've been really hating my body lately 😔

Thank you so much for this request! I know it took me a long time to get to it and I'm so sorry about that! I hope you still like it <3

Warnings: reader is a little hard on herself, Noah also feels insecure. Reader is fatphobic towards herself :( Besides that, this is fluff.

WC: 5.9k (this is long and I haven't proofread it yet!)

My requests are currently closed!

Noah was back home in Virginia for a couple of weeks. He really just went because his best friend, Nicholas, had begged him to. There was nothing left for him in this place anymore, and there hasn't been for years.

Even though he had a lot of bitter memories from his time here, he really tried to enjoy the moments he spent with his old friends, reconnecting and telling each other how their lives changed over the years.

Right now, he was at a bonfire, sipping on his beer, despite the chill weather that fall brought along. He looked around and saw many faces he didn't recognize from years ago. To his left, Nicholas was socializing, and he thought about how things haven't changed that much after all. His friend was always better at this than him.

His eyes were fixed on you, like they have been a couple of times during the night. You were hard to miss, with your orange knit sweater and beanie keeping your head warm. He didn't remember seeing you before, if he had, he would surely remember it.

You talked animately with your hands, sporting smile on your face that made your eyes crinkle. If he could describe your aura, it would be warm and inviting, and he felt a pull towards you, suddenly having the urge to come up to you and stike up a conversation.

He held himself back, though, because you seemed very engrossed in the conversation you were having with your friends, and he didn't want to intrude or bother you.

"You're still brooding in the corner?", he was so distracted by you, that he didn't even notice Nicholas approaching him.

"I'm technically not in a corner", Noah pointed to the wall he was leaning against. Nicholas fixed him with a look.

"You should try and talk to a few people, at least this one time", Nicholas sounded like a mom scolding a child and it mildly irritated Noah.

"I will, once I finish this beer", he settled on saying, but deep down, they both knew that Noah would stay in this exact same spot for the rest of the night.

"Whatever, man. I'll talk to Josh over there, he said something about Eric cheating on Alex with their babysitter, and I wanna know all about that. Do you remember Alex from high school?", Noah scrambled his brain, and he could vaguely remember an Alex from high school.

"Is she the one who fell down the bleachers once?", he asked, the memory slowly coming back to him. He should feel bad that this embarrassing moment is what he remembers her by.

"That's exactly the one", Nicholas exclaimed, his hand slapping against Noah's chest. "Apparently her luck didn't get any better. I'll get the scoop and then I'll tell you on the way home", Noah smiled at his friend's antics and watched him walk away.

Averting his gaze back to the gathering happening around him, he found himself watching you again. He really needed to break his habit, otherwise you would think of him as a total creep. His stance and unapproachableness already didn't help him at all. He decided to go look around for something to eat, sure that he saw some snacks around here somewhere.

"He's leaving", your friend said beside you. You had to keep yourself from looking at him. Your friends have been annoying you for the last 15 minutes about the hot guy who apparently couldn't stop looking at you.

"Good, would you stop bothering me now?", you said.

"Y/N, you need to talk to him. Have you seen this man? He is hot and he's totally into you", Charlie said, an exciting tone on her voice.

"And you gathered all that from the few minutes we've been standing here?", you looked at her with a disbelieving look on your face.

"We've been here for at least forty minutes and he hasn't stopped looking at you!", she exclaimed, as if she had it all figured out.

"He could've been looking in the general direction, not at me", you reasoned, trying to forget the way his gaze felt on you. He couldn't have been looking at you out of all people from your group of friends.

"Y/N", Charlie sighed, the excitement vanishing from her features. "You need to stop sabotaging yourself. Why is it so impossible for a man to be interested in you?"

"I don't know, Charlie. I'm gonna go grab another drink, ok?", you did what you always do when someone brought this up in conversation, you left and didn't look back.

Is not that you thought it was impossible for this man to be interested in you, you just thought it was unlikely. You spotted him right when he walked in, his height made him impossible to ignore. And even though he was wearing a hoodie, you saw the tattoos all over his neck and hands, the latter making you incredibly flustered. You never thought you could find someone's hands so attractive.

Meanwhile, you came to this gathering right from work. Your hair was a mess and you had no option but to slap a beanie over it. Your outfit was nothing interesting, just a sweater to keep you warm in the changing weather. Thinking about it now, the color was even a little silly. Who wore orange sweaters?

You arrived at the table where the drinks were set, eyes surveying for something interesting and non-alcoholic, since you drove here. You were so engrossed with whatever was in front of you, that you almost - almost - didn't notice a presence beside you. Like you said, he was hard to miss.

"You, hmm... you need help finding something?" You heard a voice and you knew exactly who was next to you. You looked at him and the first thought that came to your mind was how tall he was compared to you.

He had to look down to meet your eyes and you had to crane your head back to look back at him.

"Oh, I'm just looking for something that's non-alcoholic", you answered him, with a little laugh, knowing that those beverages were hard to find in these places.

"Yeah, it's going to be a little difficult", he said, scratching the back of his neck and looking at the table set in front of you.

"It's ok, I kind of expected it. I'll just go look for dome water", you shrugged your shoulders.

"Wait, I think I saw some stuff in the fridge earlier. Do you want me to get it for you?", he pointed at the house behind the both of you. His eyes were hopeful, like he wanted to do this for you. You thought it was adorable the way he actually wanted you to have something else other than water, and you didn't have the heart to teel him no. So you said yes and saw him walk into the house.

While you waited, Noah was crossing his fingers that his friends had something in the fridge other than booze and stale food. Yes, he lied to you about seeing something in the fridge earlier, but he couldn't let you drink water at a party. He also didn't know where the urge to please you came from, but the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He made his way to the fridge and opened it, and he immediatly spotted a few cans of Red Bull. They were of different colors - probably some tropical flavor - and he hoped you liked energy drinks, otherwise, he would look like a fool in front of the girl he thought was extremely cute.

He grabbed one of them and made his way back to where you were waiting for him.

"Here, I hope you like energy drinks?", he couldn't help but let some nervousness seep into his voice.

"Thank you, and I do", you answered him, and you visibly saw some tension leave his shoulders. "This is actually perfect. I'm so tired because I came right from work. Maybe this will wake me up a little", you said as you cracked the can open.

When he heard you say that, he wanted to pat himself on the back, but settled on giving you a contained smile instead.

"So", he sensed the lull in the conversation, and since he wasn't ready to stop talking to you yet, he decided to change the topic. "Who are you here with?"

"I'm friends with Charlie, she's Josh's fiancee", you answered him. He knew that Josh had gotten engaged in the last few months. Him and Nicholas knew Joah and Charlie from high school, and both of them were surprised it took Josh this long to ask the girl to marry him. Maybe if he was better at keeping contact with his friend, he could've met you way earlier.

"I saw you talking to her earlier", he pointed out and you cursed yourself, because your friends were right. He was watching you. "How did you two meet each other?", he asked and leaned against the table. He refrained from asking you to go inside and sit on the couch.

"We went to college together a few years ago. We were roomates and clicked instantly", you told him and he did the math in his head. You were friends with Charlie for what? Nine or ten years now? Shit, he really could've me you earlier. "What about you? Haven't seen you around before", you threw the question back at him, taking a sip from the drink in your hand. He had to avert his gaze from the way your lips wrapped around the rim, which was very distracting.

"Oh, I've known Josh for years. Us and a couple of other people here went to high school together", he saw your eyes light up with this information, visibly impressed.

"Oh my God. How come have I not seen you before?", you were shocked that you never noticed this man at any of the parties Josh and Charlie usually threw.

"I moved out of here really young. I live in LA now, so it's difficult to visit", he kept the information that he was in a band to himself. He liked the way you seem to not know who he is at all.

"I think he's mentioned having friends in LA before", you mused, but didn't dwell much on the information. "I don't blame you, LA seems to be much more interesting than here"

"Yeah, a little crazy out there. Not a dull moment, that's for sure", you agreed, and he wanted to know more about you, but refrained from asking what you did for a living, afraid that you would ask him back, and he sure didn't wanna lie to you.

"I never left here, I just assume from the stories I hear", he was surprised to hear this, not for the fact that you never visited other places, but because he couldn't imagine someone spending their whole lives in this place.

"You never felt the urge to go somewhere else?", he couldn't help but ask you. You thought for a second before answering him.

"I mean, I would obviously love to travel to other places, but I don't know if I would actually move somewhere else", he hummed, and you continued. "My whole life is here, my parents are here, and I know this city like the back of my hand. I guess I like the familiarity of the place"

He could understand that. Not everyone had a traumatizing childhood and teenage years like him. He guesses he could like the place if it wasn't tied to such bad memories.

He was about to ask you something else when Charlie approached the two of you, and he noticed the knowing look on her face the second he saw it.

"Hey, you two", she said as she rested one hand on your shoulder. "We're playing a board game in the living room, and Josh wanted me to ask if any of you would like to participate"

Noah waited for you to answer first, half hoping you would say no, just so he could talk to you for a little but longer. However, what you said instead crashed his hopes of talking to you for the rest of the party.

"I would love to, but I should be heading out. I'm dead tired and really need some sleep", you had an apologetic look on your face, and when he really took the time to look at you, he did notice your slightly droopy eyes.

"Thank you for coming, I know work has been chewing your ass lately", Charlie told you, but you dismissed her with a wave of your hand.

"You know I love hanging out with you guys, so it's worth the effort", you said with sincerity in your voice and you and Charlie exchanged a hug and goodbyes.

Turning back to face him, you noticed that you didn't really want to leave, but needed to before you got even more tired. Suddenly, you realized you never got his name.

"Well, we've been talking all this time and I never asked your name", you chuckled at the absurdity of it.

"My name is Noah", he extended his hand for you to shake. "What's yours?"

You took his hand in yours, noticing the way it entirely encompassed yours. You observed the details on the tattoos he had on his knuckles and hands, and you wondered once again if they continued up his arms and shoulders. "I'm Y/N"

"Well, Y/N, it's been a pleasure talking to you", he gave you soft smile and you wanted to get lost in his eyes and the way he was looking at you right now. As if you were the greatest thing that's happened to him the entire week. Little did you know.

"The feeling is mutual" you smiled back at him, having to let go of his hand, as to not turn this into those too long handshakes. "I should get going", you said and started to turn around before he stopped you.

"Actually", he started, prompting you to look back at him. "I was wondering if I could get your number", he had the same hopeful look on his face as earlier, when he asked you if he could grab you a drink. You looked at him for a few seconds before answering.

"Yeah, of course. Here it is", you handed him your phone and he put his contact in, giving it back to you.

"I'll text you so you can add mine", you tapped your screen a few times and after a couple of seconds, his phone vibrated on his back pocket. "There, now we have each other's numbers", you pocketed your phone.

"Text me when you get home?", he asked and you were caught a little off-guard, but couldn't deny you loved the way he genuinely seemed to care about you.

"Of course. I'll let you know", you smiled and contemplated giving him a hug, just to feel the way his arms would wrap around your body, but thought it would be too much for a first encounter. You settled in a little awkward wave as you turned around to make your way out of the backyard and in the direction of your car.

Noah, on the other hand, was frozen in place. When he spotted you, he was sure he was doomed to watch you from afar the whole night. But when he saw you by the table full of drinks, looking a little lost, he decided to take Nicholas' advice and mingle a little.

For someone who hated this city so much, he was actually feeling a little disappointed in having to leave in a few days. He always felt like there was nothing else worth sticking around for here, but as he replayed your smile in his head, and how your skin felt in his in those couple of seconds he shook your hand, he couldn't help but think he could stay here, if it meant he got to experince moments like this with you again.

He decided to make his way back inside, the party now with only a few people left. He sat on the couch as he watched Nicholas and his friends play a game of Monoply on the dinner table.

A few minutes went by when he felt his phone vibrate in back pocket. Fishing it out, he saw it was a text from you.

You: Hi! Just letting you know I got home safely :)

He felt a smile take over his face as he replied to you.

Noah: Hey! Glad everything went alright. Have a good night and sleep well x

You: Thank you :) Enjoy the rest of the party!

Noah: I'm about to leave soon actually. Talk to you tomorrow?

You: Sure! Drive home safe and let ME know when you get home? ;)

Noah: I will, but something tells me you'll be asleep by then

At home, you were leaning against the bathroom counter, your toothbrush hanging from your mouth, stupidly grinning at your phone.

You: I'll wait up :)

The next day was chores day for you. Clean the house, get the laundry done, change the sheets and whatever else you needed to do around the house.

Even with the music blaring through the speakers to keep you entertained while you loaded the dishes in the dishwasher, you couldn't help but let your mind run wild with thoughts of Noah.

You couldn't let go of the fact that he was so nice to you, despite never having seen you before. It's not that guys were never nice to you, it's just that the niceness came with the intentions fo something else, and you didn't want to think of Noah as one of those people.

Closing the dishwasher and starting the cycle, you made your way to the bedroom to collect all the clothes that needed washing.

As soon as you got in the room, you stopped in your tracks, your image on the mirror on the opposite wall from you catching your attention.

This was obviously a lazy day, and there was no use in dressing up to clean the house, but still, you could see the wisps of hair and the frizz sticking out from your bun, that sat atop of your head.

You wore a baggy t-shirt and some gym shorts, turning a bit to the side, you observed the fat of your thighs basically swallowing the tight fabric.

Nowadays, you weren't so worried with the way you look as you were as a teenager. A lot of therapy over the years helped you accept yourself. But you can't say it didn't leave any traumas behind.

Before you could even realize what was happening, the voices in your head were already sabotaging you.

"See? You were right. Noah is probably not attracted to you at all"

"He probably made a bet with someone about how he could charm the fat girl no one wants"

"He's tall, tattooed and handsome. You're just you"

It didn't matter anyway, he's doesn't even live here. His life in LA is probably more interesting than anything this city could offer him. He'll leave soon and your life would be back to normal. He'll probably not even text you, your phone number lost in all the other numbers he probably has in his phone.

Huffing with annoyance at how the day took a turn, you hurried to gather the clothes and make your way out of the room.

At the Ruffilo's house, Noah was laying on the couch, with his phone in his hand, open on your text thread with you from last night.

To be honest, he wanted to text you right when he woke up, but didn't want to come off to strong or bother you on your day off. Now, as it was nearing 3:00 pm, he was tired of holding himself back.

He's been contemplating on how he could ask you out for the entire day, and decided he should keep it simple. Maybe ask you out to eat some dinner. Nothing too fancy, just some burgers, fries and a milkshake at the place he loved to go with his friends as a teenager.

He even though about taking you to the lookout he always went to, to clear his head when the noises in his head got too loud. He hasn't been there in years, and now was a good time to try and resignify what the place meant to him.

So, he started typing.

Noah: Hey! Remember me?

He sent the text and stared at the screen, biting the nail on his thumb. He waited a couple of minutes for an answer, but the bubbles showing that you were typing a reply didn't appear on his screen.

You could be busy. Or you could already be out with someone else. It's the weekend after all, why would you spend it rotting away on the couch like him?

He knew if he stayed here, he would drive himself mad. So he decided to make his way uptairs to take a shower, and hopefully take his mind off of you for a few minutes.

Meanwhile, you were debating with yourself. After your dilemma earlier in the day, you weren't expecting to get a text from Noah. Actually, you were kind of hoping he wouldn't contact you, because you weren't ready to unpack what you were feeling for this guy you just met yesterday.

But here you are, mind running in circles thinking about what to say to him. Should you even reply? No, that's out of the question. You always thought it was rude to leave somone on read, especially on purpose.

You couldn't deny that you were curious to find out what he wanted. So, without dwelling much more on it, you started typing.

You: Hey there! Of course I do. Yesterday wasn't that long ago.

You wanted to lock your screen and chuck your phone across the room. But you weren't fifteen anymore, so you resorted to scrolling through social media as you waited for his responde. Eyes wandering to the notification bar every few seconds.

If this was just a booty call, you were going to be extremely upset. Would it be so bad though to have a one night stand with the hot guy?

Your phone vibrated in your hand, a text coming through.

Noah: Just wanted to make sure

What's up? You having a good weekend?

You: If good means cleaning the house the entire day, then I'm having a great weekend. What about you?

Noah: Well, now you're just making me feel bad, 'cause I didn't do anything the entire day

You: That sounds perfect, actually

Noah: Since your weekend has been so strenuous, what do you think about having some dinner?

Did he just ask you out? Were your eyes deceiving you? You didn't know what to tell him.

You obviously wanted to spend more time with him, enjoying the time you spent with him yesterday. But your mind took you back to earlier in the day. You hated yourself for always assuming the worst in a situation.

Maybe he didn't even mean anything by asking you to have dinner with him. Maybe he was just being polite. But why would he be polite to someone he just met?

Ultimately, you decided that this didn't have to mean anything more than just two people eating together. Besides, you were curious to find out what his intentions were. If he even had any.

You: Sounds good. What are you thinking?

Noah: Do you like burgers?

You: Oh, I love burgers!

Noah: It's set then! I know just the place

I'll pick you up at 7?

You: I'll be ready :)

Noah was sat on his bed, towel still wrapped around his hips, looking stupidly at his phone, a grin on his lips. He pondered a lot during his shower, and decided that he was done waiting. He didn't have much more time in his hometown, so he wanted to make the most of the time he still had with you.

He knew it was still too early to call this a first date, but he was nervous as if it was. He really hopes you like what he has planned for the two of you. It's nothing too fancy or too special, a simple dinner overlooking the city at night, but it held a lot of meaning for him.

Getting dressed and going downstairs to get some water, he knew he'd be stressing until it was time to leave to pick you up, so he decided to play some games on his computer to try and distract himself a little.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, and overanalyzed your outfit like you've been doing for probably the past 10 minutes. You wore a dress that went down to about your knees, it was a deep wine color, and threw on a leather jacket on top, just in case it got windy outside.

You opted to go for comfort instead of anything fancy, so deciding that this outfit was enough, you went to your closet and grabbed your pair of Vans and slipped them on your feet.

Noah should be here in about 15 minutes, and you wanted to be ready. He texted you a little earlier asking for your address, you gave it to him and just told him to text you when he got here. Since you lived in an apartment, it would be easir for you to come down and meet him at the entrance.

You didn't have to wait long until you phone chimed in your hands, a text popping up on the screen.

Noah: I'm here :)

You: I'll be down in a second!

Locking the door behind you, you waited for the elevator. Your legs couldn't seem to keep still, and you realized you were nervous for whatever was about to happen when you met him outside.

Do you hug him? Do you shake his hand? No, that's too formal of a greeting. But would he want to hug you this soon? He seemed to be a reserved person.

You didn't have much more time to overthink on this situation, because soon you were stepping inside the elevator. You cursed yourself for living only on the third floor, because before you could freak out a bit more, the doors dinged and you stepped out.

When you laid eyes on him, he was standing outside his car, back leaning against the passenger side door, long legs crossed and hands tucked into his pants' pockets.

You almost stopped yourself in your tracks. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt, and you could see the tattoos decorating both of his arms. You almost wanted to just stand there and admire the way looked waiting for you.

But you couldn't allow yourself to look like a fool on the first time you were going out with him. So you put on a smile and walked over to him. You didn't have to overthink anything at all, because as soon as you got close to him, you heard him say a "hello" and stretch out his arms for you to give him a hug.

He felt warm and sturdy against you, and you noticed the way his arms circled your shoulders and around your neck. You could feel his muscles through the fabric of your dress, and it made you a little dizzy.

When you both parted from the hug, you said "hi" back him.

"C'mon in", he gestured to the car and opened the door for you. You situated yourself on the passenger seat and he shut the door behind you, making his to the other side.

"So, what's the plan for tonight?", you asked, as you buckled you seatbelt and watched him do the same.

"I know this place that sells some really good burgers. My friends and I used to go there all the time. I hope it's still good", he answered and started driving.

"Burgers are always nice", you pointed out.

"Not always", he quickly looked at you with his eyebrows raised.

"Are you particular about your burgers?"

"It's not that I'm pinky or anything. It's just that I knwo when a burger is bad", he explained himself while taking a right turn and entering another neighbourhood.

"And what is a bad burger in your opinion?", you turned yourself slightly on your seat, so you could look at him better.

"Well, first, the bun has to be sealed, so it isn't soggy from the sauce", you nodded along to his explanation. "Then, the burger has to be thick enough to be juicy, and it can't be cooked for too long because then it becomes dry", he makes a face as if dry burgers are a personal attack to him.

"I guess you're right about all of that. Maybe spending four years in college kind of messed up my idea of good food"

"You ate a lot of weird stuff?", he asked you.

"It's incredible the stuff you can come up with on a budget", you shrugged and he seemed to be satisfied with your answer.

Not too long after, Noah's pulling to a vintage looking diner, but you notice him going to the drive thru instead of parking.

"We're not eating here?", you found yourself asking before you could stop.

"Shit, I didn't ask you", he stopped the car in the line and looked at you. "I was thinking about eating at this place I know, I think you're gonna like it", you could tell his confidence wavered a little bit, but you gave him a smile anyways.

"It's ok, I don't mind eating somewhere else"

The line progressed quickly and in about fifteen minutes, you were grabbing your order and Noah was driving again.

You noticed he was driving to a less populated area, and more trees came into view, the headlights of the car illuminated the path ahead.

"I clearly didn't think this through because this totally looks like I'm kidnapping you or something", he chuckled a little, but you could tell he was nervous.

"I didn't think about that", you told him. Maybe you thought this place was a little weird, but you weren't going to comment on that.

"We're almost there, ok", you nodded and true to his words, a few turns later, the car arrived at a clearence. Noah drove a little bit more and parked the car.

Looking through the windshield, you could see the light from the city below you and the stars shining bright above you.

"You were right. I really do like this place", you stated, still a little bit in awe. How did you not know about this place?

"I'm really glad you like it", he said, watching you observe the place around you. "Well, let's eat before the food gets cold"

You ate and talked, now feeling more comfortable with each other's presence. Noah told you he used to come here as a teenager all the time, though he didn't tell you the reason.

He didn't feel the same emotions now as he did before when coming to this place. It felt like a new life now for him, e new beginning, and he was to have someone like you here with him.

You did tell him though, that this was one of the best burgers you've ever eating in your life, and that you would totally eat there more. He couldn't hide the smile on his face.

After you were done, he gathered all the wrappers and cups and got out of the car to put it in the trash can that was not too far away from the car.

You sat there, observing him and wondering if you were the only one feeling like this was more than just two people who just met each other going out to dinner.

He got back and sat down on the driver's seat. Looking out into the city, he said "I kind of don't wanna go yet"

"I don't either", you agreed. You felt a weird sense of calm on this place, with him. "I can tell that being here means a lot to you. And you don't have to tell me anything, but I'm glad you brought me here"

He didn't say anything for a while, and you both just sat there in comfortable silence.

"I never liked coming back here, to my hometown", he started, you just looked at him, not saying anything, not wanting to rush him. "I have really bad memories from this place. But don't know, being here this time, meeting you, made me feel like this city still has some good in it"

"Noah, I'm hardly anyone important", you reasoned.

"It's not that. I just feel like you're here because you wanna be, and not because you want to get something from me", he looked down at his lap.

"Why would I wanna get something from you?", you were feeling a little confused now.

"it's just always the way it works. Charlie never told you whar I do on LA?", he questioned you, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

"She told me you're in a band. Which I googled and you guys look pretty good at what you do", you noticed his eyes widening when you said this.

"So you know?", his voice was a little smaller right now, aprehensive.

"Of course. Josh would never shut up about his friends who went to LA and got famous", you laughed quietly at this. "I'm sorry that people made you feel worthy only if you have something to give them"

He looked down again, but you continued. "But I was serious when I told you that I'm not anyone important. I'm glad to be here right now, and I really enjoy your company, but you're going back to LA soon and then this is the last thing you'll think about"

"I don't think that's true", he was quick to disagree with you. "Before arriving here, I felt dread coming back to this place. Now I feel like I don't wanna leave. You're the reason for that, and I'll never forget the way you've made me feel this past two days. Because I haven't felt his normal in years", you didn't know what to say to that, so you just looked at him.

He straighted his back, and leaned his elbows on the center console, his face now closer to yours.

"Will you give me the pleasure of tasting your lips before I go absolutely insane?", he was looking right at your eyes, voice low as if there weren't the two of you here.

"We can't have you going insane, can we?", you said and leaned closer, brushing your lips on his.

You felt his hand going up your neck and gripping your jaw. He licked his lips and you closed your eyes, and soon you felt the plush of his lips on yours, slow at first, but then he got a little more urgent, picking up his pace.

His tongue teased your lips and you granted him entrance, you whimpered at the feeling of his mouth on yours, and he held your face tighter.

After parting, you were both panting, you with a smile in your face at the feeling of his thumb carresing your cheek.

"How am I supposed to ever leave this place now?", he wondered out loud and connected his lips yours again.

[bucky-h0e]

A/N: We getting spoiled this week! I'm working out the schedule, but just for this week I've got a few extra posts to make up for my absence - hopefully you enjoy them all!

Anyway, here's a short, late-ish Valentines' Day special.

Warnings: Fluff, Bucky and Alpine's father-daughter dates, Sam and Bucky embarrassing Alpine like good father's should

Serendipity Masterlist

Bucky and Alpine (+Sam) celebrate Valentines Day

There are many ways this day could go and have gone

The only constant throughout the years are that Alpine always gets Bucky and Sam flowers

and Bucky and Sam always get Alpine flowers

it started off as a competition, Bucky got Alpine flowers one year and Sam went out and bought a bigger bouquet

the next year, Sam bought a bouquet bigger than the one from the previous year, Bucky bought her two

so she basically gets given an entire flower shop but eventually she told them to knock it off

i mean, do you know how hard it is to look after and set up 30+ bouquets?

it's fucking difficult and she wasn't even getting paid to do it

now, if they all have significant others (unlikely because Bucky only has three contacts in his phone and one of those is his therapist) then they spend most of the day with them

Bucky and Alpine will always try to go out for food during the day

just a little father-daughter date

nothing major

Bucky denies it

Alpine has heart eyes and keeps telling everyone that the Winter Soldier is her dad

absolutely uses it to her advantage to get free cake

and to scare away dates

the most likely scenario though is that Bucky doesn't have a date, Sam does and Alpine's situation varies from moment to moment

if she doesn't have a date then she's all

"Bucky's all the Valentines I need"

"Unless Thor comes around cause goddamn"

"i'd stretch for Steven Strange too."

"or literally any Wakandan."

"Especially that M'Baku guy."

"Thanks Al."

if she does have a date

"I can cancel, i don't even know this man. I can just tell him to fuck off."

"I don't need some guy that I met randomly at work"

"At my bar job no less"

"Seriously Bucky, he ain't no M'Baku so-"

"Kid, shut up, go on your date."

"don't interrupt me you living fossil"

"fucking, rude grumpy ass"

once it's decided that yes, she will be going on her date

she drags him over to her place so he can keep her company whilst she get's ready

she'll aggressively sing songs at him

which bucky is very used to at this point

maybe force him into a little dancey-dance

which he'll say he hates but very much enjoys it

spins her at some point and dips her

she'll also cook him dinner, because if he's gunna be alone then she'll be damned if its not with a hot meal

Bucky won't admit it, but he loves when she cooks because it reminds him of coming home to a family and a food on the table made by someone who loves him

also it means he doesn't have to cook

when she's ready, she's normally a ball of confidence (apart from the time she dated a young history professor - she was a wreck)

so he doesn't need to give her a pep talk or anything

which is good because he doesn't exactly know how to tell a girl he hopes she gets laid?

bit of weird thing to say to his young neighbour who he views as a daughter

when her date comes to pick her up, he's standing right behind her glaring at the guy

sizing him up, committing his face to memory just in case

"okay, we'll be off now, lock my door for me would you Buck"

she'll lean up (thats a lie, she practically drags him so he lowers himself to her height) and kiss his cheek goodnight before taking her dates arm and smiling

as he's locking her door with his spare key (they'd given each other spare keys in cases of emergency but lets be honest Alpine uses them whenever she wants) he'll over hear a bit of their conversation which normally revolved around him

"It that-"

"No"

"It is!"

"It's not."

"You know the Winter Soldier?!"

"He's not the Winter Soldier."

That conversation normally tells him that the date isn't going to go well

he knew she hated when a date would focus on that aspect of him

like for fucks sake man is actually a living time machine

and alpine knows a lot about him

ask better questions

whilst she's on her date, he'll sit at home and watch movie recommendations from her and Sam

he'll read

listen to music

drink beer that will definitely not get him drunk

when Alpine comes back, he'll send her a text to make sure she's safe

he used to check on her by opening the door but she once caught her and an ex boyfriend in a rather

awkward

position to say the least

they couldn't look at each other for a week after that and bucky had very quickly learnt his lesson

if the dates gone well then he won't get a response until later that night

if it goes okay then it normally means there will be a second date before anything happens between the pair

if the night is bad, then Bucky had received the text first and had gone out to pick her up from wherever the date was

we love a protective dad

on the nights that don't end with Alpine in her place getting lucky (which is most years up until she meets the before mentioned professor - i've got a fucking plan for these two i swear)

they sit together on Bucky's couch, drinking beer and teasing each other

Alpine is normally still dressed up at this point

"Bucky rub my feet"

"fuck no"

"oh c'mon you're supposed to be a 40s gentleman"

"and you're supposed to be a lady, put the dogs away"

"i fucking sWEAR TO GOD I GOT NICE FEET BARNES"

"jar."

her unhinged and outlandish outbursts had led to Bucky getting a 'swear jar' of sorts

she'd have to put a dollar in for every one

"Fucking... jar you in a minute

"Nice threat Al"

"Grandpa, I swear to god"

"Which one"

now sometimes Sam will join them if he doesn't have a date but come on

you can't tell me that Sam Wilson

Captain America

doesn't have a Valentines' date

he isn't a social recluse like a certain Steve Rogers

Now, Bucky and Sam are very protective fathers

nobody can tell me otherwise

you also can't tell me that they wouldn't be the biggest fucking teases in the world

every valentines day, without fail, Alpine gets a video message from Sam

It's of him and Bucky, giving her "advice"

"This Valentine's Day here's a couple of things from a couple of guys"

Bucky looks physically pained the first few times she'd been sent it

"Rule number one, always make sure to give a gift instead of receive one, thats makes you a good person."

Sam is very obviously loving this, every single year

"rule number two, be yourself always and forever with anyone and everyone"

"that's very nice. Always, Always remember rule number one"

"but always keep in mind rule number two"

"number two has heart too"

"at the end of the day it takes two to make things right"

it was an ongoing joke that alpine was ready to end

especially when they sent it to the professor boyfriend on their first valentines day together

"I am.... so sorry"

"It's okay, love, it'd endearing"

"it's embarrassing"

"they care about you"

"i'm going to end them"

"one thing before you do, how did they get my number?"

poor baby forgot who he was dating for a hot second there

little does he know he's going to be cockblocked most valentines' by James Barnes

this poor man just wants to swoop Alpine off her feet and treat her like a queen

Bucky's sat there like a little gremlin with a beer and a smug little grin

he ain't ready to be an actual grandpa just yet

especially if the kid takes after Alpine

50/50 is just too much of a risk at that point

has 100% convinced Sam to crash one of their dates before now

Sam agrees but has a moment of clarity in the middle of it

"You ever think that we hang around this kid too much?"

Bucky's sat there with sunglasses looking through a newspaper with eye holes cut out

"No."

they're in one of the fanciest restaurants in New York and Bucky looks like a cartoon villain

"What happened to you man?"

"Parenthood."

he's joking, partially

he loves Alpine and the professor is the only boyfriend of hers he's like for her

but

Until the day comes where Alpine meets that man, Bucky is her main Valentine's bitch

and he makes sure of it

he really, really hates all of Alpine's ex-boyfriends

[ima-ghost-art]

I'm in the middle of writing a stranger things fic wip with robin getting vecnad and honestly? I forgot how fun it is to write angst lol

Robin faces being disowned by most of her homophobic family, vecna using her dad (the only one who stuck by her and still love her) to cause more harm

Steve having his "I CANT FUCKING LOSE HER" moment (frantically searching for her favourite song only to realise their mixtape is at her house)

Her favourite song is "I'm still standing" by elton John btw

Nancy yelling at him saying "we get it your girlfriend might die but your not the only one who cares about her!?" To which steve loses HIS SHIT bc nancy stop being bullshit that's his platonic soulmate and he loves her more than any romantic fling he could have had in the past bc robin was the first person to except him and ask if he was okay!!!!

Robin then having to face the Russians again, only this time forced to watch steve getting tortured (finally understanding why he wouldnt fully tell her what happened) plus watching/ seeing dustin and erica hurt and blaming her for what happened at starcourt!

She (like steve) blames herself for letting them get involved, she hates that her decoding a secret message for fun led to someone she now loves getting hurt

Everyone is not sure if they are more scared of robin dying in this moment, or steve, who the party is pretty sure has finally cracked when in his last attempt to find a song that means something to robin

Starts singing total eclipse of the heart like a muppet

Oh btw all 4 chapters (maybe more I'm still planning lol) are named after different lyrics from the song

Robin saves herself time by hiding in the memory of her and steve making thier mixtape (Steve's coming out moment/ Robin's dad being AMAZING)

I love Robin's dad in this hes a pretty cool bi king who just loves his two gay children (steve is his son, steve had no choice in the suprise adoption bit prefers him much more over his real dad)

VECNA (the bitch) tells robin as shes escaping that if she doesnt join him, she knows who will be next (yep you stevie boy ;))

Of course robin still escapes, but not without being utterly terrified for her bestfriend, not even sure how to tell him (or the others tbh) that vecna probably wont be targeting max this time, instead choosing to take out their hardest hitter

Que steve and robin having a VERY emotional hug (if they weren't co dependent before, they definitely are now)

Everyone else is just there in stunned silence bc gods damn it that was the most stressful 15 minutes of their lives and it got resolved BY STEVE SINGING BONNIE TYLERS "total eclipse of the heart" LIKE FRICKIN MISS PIGGY

Possibly gunna write a sequel involving steve and him getting vecna'd, (I have so many angsty ideas for this too (plus a bit of steddie)

and a prequel about the whole "mixtape" scene and stuff involving robin and steve being beautiful codependent queens being gay with a king that is Robin's dad helping them learn what love means where I project my 80s music taste onto my favourite characters (obviously that would include other characters but this is all based on platonic stobin so they're only guests lol)

Anywayyyyy this was longer than planned but maybe if other people like this idea it will actually get me to finish it (tho I still dont know how long that would be since I just started my new college course)

[har-rison-s]

pray, do tell

request: If you don’t mind me asking, request for Loki asking the other Loki’s if they have a s/o in their timeline during episode 5?

a/n: hi ! i absolutely ADORE this idea and i hope i'll write it out respectfully :)) i loved episode 5 so much, except for SOME scenes, and i especially enjoyed multiple lokis sitting around and talking, chilling, that's like... my dream place to be. YOU DON'T KNOW THE EFFECT PRESIDENT LOKI HAS ON ME. like it should be studied in labs and schools cos ??????? that feeling when he's on screen was just something else. also ! kid loki holding alligator loki my beloved <3. i'd love to be surrounded by lokis, me and loki actually have the same personality type so they're like... my people. sorry for the rant, hahah ! this one is a bit shorter than my other loki works, sorry about that :/ also it took me like 40 minutes to find decent gifs lmao. happy reading !! <3

masterlist

mcu masterlist

warnings: nothing really

disclaimer: lokis mentioned have he/him pronouns !

Weirded out by what he's seeing, and not entirely sure it's real, Loki can't take his eyes off it, either. The way alligator Loki drinks his boxed wine is just so fascinating to him, yet weird and other-wordly (he knows those well) at the same time. And he's weirded out more by the fact that he doesn't find a variant of him being an alligator strange in any way. He's had a few trying days, as he said himself.

Loki manages to divert his eyes off the creature with horns on its head and looks to the grapes he holds in his hand. He picks small dirt away from the berries and takes a grape into his mouth with ease. The taste reminds him of many things. His childhood, his home, his family... Thor, Frigga, Odin, Sif and the Warriors Three. Asgard. The Gardens, the waters, the Bifrost. Heimdall. Visits to the city, the markets, the celebrations.

Love.

Loki blinks, fooling himself and others by aiming to portray that he's not thinking about anything important. But he is. She was the most important thing to him, and now... Well, maybe during the New York heist, she's still fine, but after Ragnarok... Loki fears too much to think about it.

He wishes he could remember everything with her that followed New York, but all he has of their future is some worn-out tape in the TVA archives. Perhaps even pictures... He wants to live through all they had now, he wishes he could do that most of all. Of course, there's the finding Mobius and helping Sylvie burn down the TVA thing, but upon remembering her, it all falls into the background.

His first love. Not a god, like him, but she was a goddess in his eyes. He smiles now, subtly, at the fond memories of her. He noticed the little moments he had with her in the tape Mobius had, about his whole future. How beautiful she always was, her subtle way of laughing and going about her smiles and giggles, how exceptional and different her clothes always were, how her hair shined in any light...

“Did any of you...” Loki starts to say, and sighs shortly before continuing, thinking he'll probably regret asking it, “did any of you leave a... a lover behind when the TVA arrested you? Prince or princess?” He looks between his variants. Young Loki shoots him a stern look. “Apologies, my liege. You seem too young for that.” Loki bids him a polite smile, but his brain whirs. “How long have you been here, anyway?”

“Don't know. Time doesn't really... exist here.” Young Loki says and throws a salt biscuit into alligator Loki's jaws. “But no lovers in my lifetime, Loki.” He pointedly looks at the older variant of himself, nodding slightly.

“Not yet, at least.” Loki points out and gets scoffs and chuckles from Boastful and Classic Loki. He looks at them with a furrowed brow.

“Oh, you and your grand plan,” Classic Loki shakes his head before taking another sip from his huge cup. Loki only rolls his eyes, but still waits for answers to his question, “well,” Classic Loki downs his drink, “it would be no surprise to you that I had countless partners before I chose isolation. Partners of any kind.” He winks. Loki nods, understanding how much alike he truly is with his variants. “But I feel there is no one truly... truly made for me. Like midgardians would say - 'the one'.“

“In my case, there were many 'the ones',” Boastful Loki says, mocking Classic's use of words. All other Lokis roll their eyes, “I actually feel like every person in the whole universe was made to be with me. I'm just that irresistible.” He smiles pleasantly to himself. Alligator Loki growls again.

“That's another “liar” from him to you, Boast,” Classic Loki nods his head towards Boastful, who only shakes his head and frowns.

“I had my fair share of men and women before I was taken,” Boastful says, “must have been the same for you, Loki.” He looks at him. “Asgard was truly a giving place.”

Loki chuckles, but looks away from his variants. “Oh, it was...” he says quietly, “it was.” His voice grows even more quiet. Young and Classic Loki exchange a look.

“Do tell us, your mischievousness.” Classic Loki urges him. Loki shoots him a nervous look, then he leans back into the sofa and sighs, his eyes strictly focused on his hands.

“I had plenty before I met... one,” he starts to say, “me and her share a past, and, it seems, a future as well. After New York, I am taken to Asgard, imprisoned, but she is there. I fake my death and rule over Asgard as Odin, and she's there. I help Thor destroy our evil sister--”

“Oh, she was a nasty one.” Boastful says, shaking his head. “We used to have a connection, but then she just... I don't even know.” He shrugs. Loki eyes him for a second before continuing.

“We destroyed Asgard, but saved its people, and saved her. We make for Midgard, and she's there with me.” Loki sighs, his eyes gloomy. “And then... Thanos attacks, destroys half, if not all our people, and...” he can't even speak further. His variants share a look, each having quite the correct guess for what could follow after that. Boastful drinks from his cup in an awkward manner. “But I feel like that's another life I lived. Or another me. I don't know, I feel so... disconnected from her, from what we had. Must be the TVA and this... void. And all that's happened, all I've learned about my future.” He sighs again.

“Meeting her again would be a wake-up call, no?” Boastful asks. Loki shrugs, a sad expression on his face.

“Rather a sign that you're real.” Classic Loki says with a wide, true smile. Loki looks to him as if looking at a mentor. “I often felt like the people I loved and the love I had for them, even if it was not reciprocated, were a reminder that I am real, I exist and I can feel all these things.”

Loki considers his words, and then nods along, finding a truth in them.

“After all, love and all other emotions are the human part in all of us.” Classic says. “And it isn't always bad to feel like a regular human being.” Loki can also find truth in those words. Love makes one feel alive, makes you feel like you're on the right path, found the right person, found your purpose. It doesn't always have to be glorious, it can be small, but nonetheless important to you.

“I used to think humans smaller than us, more pathetic and puny, but...” Loki shakes his head, “we, gods, are just the same, really.” He chuckles sadly. “Having quarrels over the stupidest things, being as imperfect as humans... Sometimes I even felt like I was too good, too perfect for something like true love, which is a pathetic emotion that makes you feel all kinds of other feelings, but...” he smiles, “often times I felt like that, she told me everyone was deserving of love, even me.” His smile grows wider.

“She sounds lovely.” Classic Loki tells him with a kind smile.

“She was that, and more.” Loki nods along. Young Loki imitates the sound of a snore and throws a crumpled piece of paper at Loki's shoulder.

“You're making me extremely bored.” He announces and sits straighter in his chair, looking over the mess that is his palace. “Love's boring.” Young Loki throws a juice carton across the room, making a face.

“You are just too young to understand and know it, your majesty.” Boastful says with a wink, and the next juice carton is flying over his head with a snicker from Young Loki. Classic Loki keeps Boastful tight in his seat so an argument wouldn't arise, and Boastful hesitantly restrains, his drink almost spilling over his cup. Loki watches them with a sappy smile on his features, and decides this is a good place to spend eternity at, even without her.

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let me know if you want to be added ! or maybe to a loki list !

[bittersweetmorality]

can i please get a hawks hurt / comfort fix please 🥺🥺 like him waking up from a nightmare abt his childhood and u comforting him and cuddling him and making him feel better:)

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR THIS REQ IM GUNNA KISS U ON THE MOUTH ANON. YES !!! ugh hurt/comfort hawks is my biggest guilty pleasure bc i am one sad mf but i am a whore for hawks fluff . best of both worlds <3 also ! i'm so sorry it's short :(( 1,053 words is definitely short for my standards but ! i'm working on a lot of MHA stuff rn so keep an eye out ^_^

also this fic is definitely based off the song “First Day of my Life by Bright Eyes” cuz i listened to that song on REPEAT while writing this 😁🙏 definitely recommend listening to it while reading besties

— i love you more

☾ genre: hurt/comfort hawks fic !

☾ pairing: hawks x gn!s/o reader

☾ warnings: details of nightmares, heavy angst that pertains to emotional/physical abuse, cursing, just very sad and scared hawks :(

☾ w/c: 1,053

he was back in the dark living room— the one he was sure he escaped many years ago. the painfully familiar walls, despite the years of constant effort he put into repressing the memories. the memories of his father grabbing him by his neck with unrelenting strength, and thrusting him up against them, letting his breath ridden with alcohol and pure indifference fan against his cheek. the kind of indifference of a predator about to kill.

and all around him, no matter how much he sealed his eyes closed, covered his ears with all of his strength-- the retched smell of alcohol and his rotten memories were suffocating him.

why was he back here?

his heart began to race, feeling the way his fingers lost all heat and he felt his legs lose all bearings. his breathing an erratic, shaky pace, his eyes feeling cloudy from panic and pure fear as he scrambled through his dreadful surroundings in hopes of some sort of exit. but every step he took was completely useless. no matter how fast his legs moved, he still stood in the exact place he started.

he couldn’t escape.

footsteps could be heard echoing around him, getting louder and louder. it was haunting, like this moment was an exact replica of a night from many years ago. with his fixed position right in front of his father’s couch, and the weather of the night eerily quiet, as if the world was also terrified of the man slowly getting closer and closer to the helpless boy in the living room of a man who never loved him.

“keigo,” a gravely voice slurred from the other room, “keigo, fucking answer me. i know-- know you’re there.” he recognized it all-- the hiccup between his words, the genuine anger in his voice when he addressed him.

keigo blinked, and when he opened them again, his father appeared right in front of him, a large, half-drunk translucent bottle in hand.

"why the fuck didn't you respond? i fucking-- fucking called you, didn't i?" now that he was just mere centimeters from his ears, his voice sounded even more terrifying than his memory could ever bring justice.

his gaze followed the arm of his father that was holding the bottle, that was beginning to rise, and came straight down towards his head with pinpoint accuracy--

and keigo's eyes snapped open.

a thick sheen of cold sweat collected all over his shaking, trembling body. he wasn't able to identify his surroundings, his nightmare replaying itself with seemingly more lucidity than the first time. he still saw the haunting figure of his father at the foot of his bed, and as his breathing came in sharp, short breaths, he felt you sit up immediately.

you shot up from your slumber at the sound of keigo's sobbing, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his face buried between them as you saw his body shake violently. you've never seen him this unraveled; in this much pain.

"keigo? honey?" you softly called out, gently reaching out to him.

as your hand caressed him, you felt him tense under you for a split second, causing him to shoot up from his position to look at the source of the contact. as his eyes fell onto your gentle touch, he collapsed into you without thinking twice, holding onto you for dear life while you cradled him on instinct.

"hey... shh... baby, i'm here. you're safe. it's me, yeah? no one else is here except me and you," you shushed. you knew he occasionally suffered from devastating nightmares, and because of it, you were able to know exactly how to calm him down.

although his sobs didn't seem to subside much, you could feel the way he began to relax into you, as if he was aware that it really was you, not a part of his terrifying nightmare.

he knew you were always there for him.

you shifted from your upright sitting position into a lied down, comfortable spooning position, holding him against your chest while carefully stroking his hair. you waited until he had calmed down enough before trying to speak to him again.

"...nightmare," he mumbled against you.

"i figured, baby," you planted a soft kiss against his hair, "i've got you. you're safe."

he sniffled in response, nuzzling his face deeper into your embrace. you softly rubbed your palm over the expanse of his back to soothe him, and ultimately ground him-- remind him that this was the real world, not the nightmare.

"he was back." keigo shuddered.

you couldn't help the small droplets forming in the corners of your eyes, "honey... i'm so sorry. so... so sorry. i know how scary he is. but..." you took a deep breath,

"but he's not here. he's not back. god, i wish i could get rid of him inside your head like we were able to in reality. but right now, it's only me. me, and your comfy bed, and your comfy blanket, and your comfy pajamas, yeah?" you lifted his head up by his chin to make him look up at you as you spoke.

"yeah?" you repeated.

he slowly nodded.

"yeah, j-just you. and... and my comfy blanket..."

"mhm, your favorite blanket. the fluffy one you like to run your fingers across. why don't you try it right now, sweetheart?"

he took many deep breaths as he held the blanket close to him, running his fingers through it to remind himself that he was okay-- his father wasn't here, because the nightmare wasn't real.

the blanket was real. the calming lavender scent on the bedroom was real.

you were real.

he took one final deep breath, opening his eyes to look at you again. your face illuminated by the soft moonlight, perfectly casting your concerned, but gentle expression.

"thank you..."

you could barely hear the words that escaped his lips, but even so you knew how much he meant them.

"of course, keigo... i'll always be here. always. you know you always have me, and i'll be here to remind you no matter what."

he finally released all of the tension in his body, fully relaxing in your warm embrace.

"goodnight, sweetheart," you whispered, planting one final kiss.

"...i love you" he whispered back.

"i love you more."

masterlist

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Part 1 (Javier Pena x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Pena as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: ANGST! Explicit drug and alcohol abuse from the beginning, depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing

Word Count: 4.8k

A/n: My first ever Javi fic, of course I had to make it the angstiest thing I’ve written in a long time!!  This is part one of the first part of the story which is also the end of the story... just had to make it confusing for you. 

Disclaimer: I do not have any experience with cocaine or addiction, all writing is based on my own research and is not a good representation of how it really is! Don’t do coke kids, it’s never good.

Part 2

---

Four in the morning, the sun was just above the horizon and you were stumbling home from yet another party. Enough tequila swam through your system that you didn’t really think about the wellbeing of your neighbor when you tapped on his door. You wanted to keep going. Javier, you decided, would make the perfect company. And maybe you could continue that kiss you had not stopped thinking about since it happened four months ago! You grinned devilishly at the thought and knocked harder on the door.

“Javi! Javier!” You rapped on the door. “Javier Peña, abra la puerta!” You sang, leaning all your weight on the door as your world span fast around you, “Javi,”

“What?” Javier opened the door suddenly, causing you to fall into him. You laughed as you caught yourself on his arm. You had woken him up, he was dressed in a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants with his hair bushy and wild. 

“Hola!” You grinned up at him, not hiding the way you checked him out. You were obviously drunk and high, eyes red and shining brightly even in the dim light of the apartment block hallway. Javi wrinkled his nose as the smell of you hitting him, tequila and cigar smoke clung to you.

“Again?” Javi sighed heavily. This was the third time this week you had woken him up, accidentally or on purpose, coming home drunk. He was starting to worry about you. 

“Si,” You grinned from ear to ear, You were in more of a state than last time. For one you were still speaking Spanish, something Javi had rarely ever heard you speak. You must have been with your local friends, he surmised. “No lo siento Javi. ¡Es divertido!”

“It’s not fun, you’re a mess. Get in here,” He pulled you by the arm into his apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“Eres enojado?” You asked, still grinning. You walked backwards into his apartment, tripping down the step and landing with a thud on his leather couch. You cackled with laughter.Javier frowned and put his hands on his hips, of course he was annoyed at you! It was four in the morning and you both had work the next morning. You dramatically flopped back on his couch and huffed at his grumpy attitude, “It’s only polite, Javi! They gave it to me!”

“It’s poison!! He exclaimed, “Why would you do that to yourself?” 

“It’s helping,” You proclaimed. 

“It’s not helping anyone, you’re gunna fuck up sooner or later.” Javi warned, as he had done many times before. 

“I got that list,” You protested, “That was helpful!”

“And what will you do when they work out that you stole it?” 

“No lo sé,” You shrugged. You reached into your pocket and grabbed the last of the coke you had been given. You wanted a little more. You pulled the tin out of your pocket and placed it on the coffee table at your feet.

“You-,” Javi started before he noticed what you were doing, instantly he was on you, “Para!” He exclaimed as he snatched the coke from your hand before you had time to open it. 

“Necesito!” You whined, pouting at him. You were lying, you didn’t need it. You wanted it, a lot. 

“No,” Javi snapped.

“Lo siento, Javi,” You pleaded with him, eyes locked onto the packet in his hand.

“You’re not though, are you? Fucking look at me!” He yelled. You startled and looked up at him as tears pricked your eyes. “Quit it. Now. You know what this shit does, stop it. Whatever you think you’re doing is not worth it, okay?”

“Pero-“

“No. Me vale!” He cut you off. “You’re better than this, Y/n,”

You sustained eye contact for a moment. The room was deathly quiet, he glared at you with fierce intensity. You had never seen him so angry, if you weren’t so drunk you would have instantly buckled under the pressure. The only thing your drunk brain could think of was how hot he looked, you wondered how rough he would be with you if he was this angry. You couldn’t help the snigger that crept up in your throat at that thought. You clamped your hand over your mouth to stop the laugh, Javi rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” You laughed, “It’s just you can’t look at me like that and not fuck me!” 

“Jesus christ,” Javier pinched the bridge of his nose. What little patience he had for you was running out fast. You continued to laugh. 

“Can I stay here?” You asked.

“Take the couch,” Javi waved you off, his back turned heading back to his bedroom. 

“I can’t sleep with you?” Your voice was laced with innuendo, he knew what you wanted. A part of him was tempted, your dress left very little to the imagination, but he knew he couldn’t do it.

“You’re drunk and high,” Javier said plainly, “and we’ve spoken about this before. No,” He was firm with you. He hated having to reject you for a second time but he wasn’t a complete monster. He wouldn’t sleep with you in this state. 

“Worth a try,” You laughed, thankfully giving up quickly. Javi shook his head and walked away again, “Muchos gracias, Javi,” You called after him. He shut the door. 

--

You woke up as the early morning sunlight pushed through the windows. You groaned and turned over, finding you were not in your bed but on a couch. Startled, you sat up and nearly screamed when you recognised the apartment as Javier’s. Luckily you were still fully dressed with your shoes still on, nothing had happened. Memories of how you got there were blurry, you remembered knocking on his door but had blacked out after that.

The clock on the wall said it was six am. You could go upstairs to your own bed clean up and hope that maybe Javi wouldn’t hear you and confront you about it. 

You stood up from the couch, trying not to think about all the things the man had done on it, and grabbed your jacket from the ground. As you stood up the strength of your hangover kicked in, you grumbled. That was when you noticed the discarded coke packet on the counter. You stopped. You knew you shouldn’t pick it up, you didn’t need it. But the taste caught at the back of your throat and you found yourself wanting it. It was undeniably addictive, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t take it this far but the foul substance had made its bed.

“Go home,” Javi’s voice broke you out of the trance. He was only wearing sweatpants, hair mussed up from sleep that you had most definitely disturbed more than once. He pulled the cocaine off the table and threw it into the trash before you could reach it. You gulped, shame rising like hot steam through your lungs. You grabbed your things and left, running straight upstairs to your own apartment.

It was still early but you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep again. Shame was swirling up in your throat. How ironic that a DEA agent was addicted to the thing she was meant to be stopping? But you weren’t addicted, you reasoned with yourself, you were fine. This was no different to when you lived off Redbull for a month during finals, it was a matter of changing some coping mechanisms. It was a reaction to the stress of being so close to Escobar yet so still so far. You could change it, you had control. 

You made a coffee, instant and black. It was bitter and disgusting but it would keep you awake. You collapsed onto your tired old couch and flicked on the tv to a telenovela rerun. You barely understood what was going on but the hilarious overplayed drama was light enough to stop you swimming into the depressing pool of thoughts currently threatening to drown you. 

Eight o’clock came and you were ready to go to work. You were used to this routine now, hungover and tired, you knew you weren’t at your best but until this morning nobody knew about your slow descent into chaos. You weren’t surprised to find Javi’s truck gone without you. All you could remember from last night as how mad he was, and his face this morning only proved it. You dreaded seeing him. 

Luckily, you were spared the hassle of public transport by Steve who trundled down the stairs after you and offered you a ride. The conversation was light and everything seemed normal for a moment. You got to work, Steve ran off after a call from Javier leaving you with a mountain of paperwork to hunt through. For once you didn’t care, paperwork didn’t judge you.

A few hours passed and the boys returned. You did your best to ignore them while they bickered, hoping that you could melt into the background, until someone tapped on your desk. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you Rookie,” Javi’s voice made you look up. “Come on, we’re going,” 

Before you could say anything he threw your jacket at you and you had no choice but to follow him outside. You tried to rack your brain for why Javi would be taking you anywhere today, especially after this morning. You had expected him to ground you, to be impossibly angry at you, not take you out. You climbed into the passenger seat of the truck and Javi didn’t say a word. He didn’t look particularly angry, he looked stressed but he had looked like that since the day you got down here. He was silent, letting the radio play between you, when all of a sudden he reached over and turned it off. 

You looked over at him, expecting him to start his lecture but he didn’t. He let the silence sit between you for the rest of the journey. Somehow it was worse, you’d rather he got mad at you and shouted. It was just unsettling.

Finally you pulled into the embassy, you flashed your badges at the gate and parked. Fear was starting to grow now. Was he going to get you fired? He wouldn’t bring you down here for that surely? He would have called and said what he wanted, he hated coming down here unless he had to. You stayed quiet, too scared to ask, and followed him inside. 

Javi greeted the assistant at the door, as smooth as ever somehow managing to melt her in her chair in five seconds. You smiled and waved to her, she scowled at you as soon as Javi had turned his back. 

“He’ll be in a minute,” The girl called after you as you entered the Ambassador’s office. You took one chair, Javier took the other, in front of the large mahogany desk.

Unlike Steve and Javi you didn’t see the ambassador often, often left in the office while they had meetings about things higher than your post. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest you thought it might burst. You rubbed your hands on your jeans and fidgeted in your seat. Why in hell were you here? 

Before you could bring up the courage to finally ask Javi the Ambassador walking into the room. You stood up immediately to shake his hand, Javi stayed seated.

“Y/n, nice to see you again,” The ambassador smiled kindly as he shook your hand. “Agent Peña,” He greeted the agent next to you, who nodded casually.

“You too, Sir,” You tried your best to sound confident. The Ambassador sighed heavily as he sat in the leather chair, took a sip of the water at his side and began the meeting.

“So, I got the call from your coordinators this morning, they’re coming down on Monday for the review. I thought we should have this meeting together to discuss things before they come down,” 

Your six month review! That was what you had forgotten. Half relieved that your mentor hadn’t brought you down here to completely humiliate you, you smiled and nodded. With everything going on you hadn’t noticed the months fly past so fast, you barely remembered what day it was anymore. 

The Ambassador carried on with the meeting, unaware of your panicking. You nodded along, answering his questions in short yes or no answers, he then moved to Javier. As your mentor he was the one in charge of delivering your progress onto your coordinators. You watched him speak, sound not registering anymore. You hoped to god that he wouldn’t throw you under the bus and tell the entire truth, he knew how much this meant to you surely he wouldn’t. 

Nervous, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket. You almost had a heart attack when you felt something inside. A small metal tin, rounded and rusted. You immediately knew what it was and froze. There was coke in your pocket. Javi gave you a sideways glance, as he noticed you stiffen up suddenly. 

You wracked your mind for where the hell the tin had come from, until you remembered. This wasn’t your jacket, Maria had given it to you a few months ago and never asked for it back. You hadn’t worn it before today and had no idea that your friend’s stash lay inside the pockets. You tried to stay rational, tried to listen to the important conversation happening around you but your hand stayed clamped around the drug in your pocket. It would help you concentrate, it could calm you down. You could take it and nobody would notice. 

“I- I’m sorry can you excuse me for a moment?” You blurted out, interrupting the ambassador.  He frowned at you, surprised by your interruption. You had gone white with panic, obviously clutching at something in your pocket but he didn’t think anything of it. He nodded and you ran out the room before he could verbally release you. 

You tried to remain calm as you ran through the halls of the embassy, it seemed like everyone was watching you. They knew exactly what you were doing, they were judging you. You ran into the first women’s bathroom you could find, quickly checked nobody was in any stalls, and locked the door behind you.

Throwing the package on the sink like it was burning through your hand, you stood over it, watching it intensely like it could jump away at any moment. The voice in your head kept tempting you, calling you weak and useless, to do it to get rid of it. Nobody would know if you took it. You’ve given in this far why not do it. It will help you calm down. Take it. 

As if you were possessed, you unwillingly opened the tin and poured the powder onto the surface. There wasn’t much there, barely a pinch full, hardly anything at all. You couldn’t just leave it there now, someone would definitely know it was yours. They all knew why even bother hiding it anyway. You should take it. You were too weak to resist it. Take it.

And you did. The chemical shot straight to your brain giving you the brilliant feeling you had been missing. You sighed in a relief as you felt every anxiety fade from your body. It wasn’t that bad, you feel better with it, the voice in your head said. You weren’t wrong. You did feel better. You looked it too, your cheeks had colour again, you smiled and laughed to yourself as it took hold.

You brushed away the excess powder and unlocked the door. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Javi leaning against the opposite wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, judging you with a cocked eyebrow. He had been waiting for you. You sighed and rolled your eyes immediately walking away from him.

“Don’t stand outside the women's bathroom’s Javi. It's creepy,” You snapped as you passed him. 

“You missed a bit,” Javi commented, following closely behind you. 

“Fuck off,” You grumbled. Despite yourself you wiped your sleeve over your nose. He was right. 

“Shooting up in a bathroom is real low, Rookie, even for you,” He snarled. You continued walking down the hall, ignoring him. You were as angry at your actions as he was but you didn’t have control anymore. You couldn’t stop yourself, “Hey! I’m fucking talking to you,” Javi grabbed your arm and sharply pulled you backwards, pressing your back into the wall and trapping your body between his.

“You’re hurting me!” You complained, shoving him off you with as much force as you could give. It didn’t get you far as he pushed you to the wall again with as much force. Your back slammed against the cold stone hard, no doubt bruising it. 

“Then listen. What the fuck is the matter with you?” He snarled, “Doing that shit here? Or anywhere in fact! You are completely out of control,” You ground your teeth, seething with anger, “Do you have no respect for yourself?” You struggled against him, trying to get away again to avoid the question, Javi held you in place. “Not going to say anything?” You looked away, purposely turning your cheek to him, “Get a fucking grip or I’m sending you home,” He growled. 

You didn’t answer, staring at the patterned tile floor. Finally he gave up. With a grunt he let you go and stalked away down the corridor. 

As he disappeared around the corner, a tidal wave of anger and frustration flooded your system. You kicked the line of chairs next to you, crying out curses as you sent them flying across the corridor. The metal clattered against the stone drawing people out of their offices, they all stood from their doorways and watched you, judging you. You heart hammered in your chest, chest heaving for air and you glared back at them all. You let out a deep breath and turned on your heel, leaving the mess behind you, and walked outside.

Despite himself, Javi had waited for you in the parking lot. You jumped into the passenger seat without a word, slamming the door hard to get your point across. You couldn’t tell if you were sweating from anger or the drugs coursing through you. Neither of you said a word for the journey. Javi had said he needed to, and you weren’t able to string together a coherent sentence for everything you wanted to scream at him yet. 

You were too focussed on the music playing from the stereo to really notice where you were going. The rhythms and lyrics seemed to float around you and soak into your skin. You didn’t see Javi’s furious scowl when you unknowingly started to dance in your seat, something you couldn’t help but do when listening to Columbian radio no matter your mental state. You were having a good time until the car stopped and the music was cut abruptly. Snapping out of your trance you looked around and realised you were at your apartment. 

“Get out. You’re done for today,” Javi said, his voice was eerily calm and you knew to be terrified. Quiet Javi was always the angriest.

“What?” You asked dumbly. 

“Get out!” He leant over you and pushed the door open. You frowned, but slipped out the truck and did as you were told. Javi pulled the door shut behind you and rolled away, leaving you standing on the sidewalk opposite the apartment building completely dumbfounded. 

You were stuck to the sidewalk, staring at the building. The sun beat down on you, scorching your skin yet you couldn’t feel it. You were numb to everything.

Your first thought was to find Maria and get more coke to hide further into yourself and avoid the awful shame creeping up your neck. The speed the thought entered your head petrified you. Your control was slipping through your fingers like sand and your body was screaming to move. Everything inside you told you to give up, that this was the tipping point and you might as well jump because what was the point in pretending anymore. If Javi knew what was the point in trying to cover up how much that narcotic had taken over your life. There was no point at all, you might as well enjoy the feeling whilst you could. 

You turned to leave, letting go of all self control. Your legs knew where to take you, you didn’t even need to look where you were going. But you did, when three steps from your original position you crashed into a woman carrying a bag of groceries. She yelped, the sudden sound snapping you back to reality. 

“What are you doing standing out here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” Connie startled you when she touched you, you had barely noticed her approaching. She frowned, concerned, when she took in your glazed appearance, “Sweetheart?”

“I’m okay,” Your voice cracked as tears filled your eyes. 

“Oh darling, come inside. Come on,” Connie walked across the road, expecting you to follow but you didn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, you wanted to run in the opposite direction. You knew if you went inside you would have to tell her what was happening, you didn’t want to make her as mad as Javi was already. “Y/n? Sweetheart you’re scaring me, what’s wrong?” 

“I fucked it all up,” You whimpered as you began to cry.

“Come with me, I’ll get you some water,” Connie bartered, still you didn’t move. Too scared to admit to her what was going on, “Just come inside, please,” 

Finally, you nodded and followed Connie into the building. She walked you into the apartment, sat you on the couch and left to get a glass of water. You hadn’t stopped crying, everything in you was telling you to go and get more to calm yourself down again. You knew not to believe the thoughts but they scared you tremendously. You have really gone too far now. 

Connie passed you the water, and you drank it gladly. She crouched down in front of you, pressed a hand to your forehead and checked your pulse trying to work out what was wrong with you. 

“Did you take something?” She asked. You tried to shake your head and deny it but the way she’s looking at you, sternly but with so much care in her eyes, you couldn’t lie to her. Your no turns into a yes and you instantly recoil from her each touch, hiding in your hands. “What was it?” 

“It was only meant to help,” You cried into your hands.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened,” She pressed. 

“Maria gave me some coke, and it was fine and fun and it helped me get that list from them,” You started to babble, all your words tumbling from your mouth before you could get them into any sensible order, “and everyone was so excited and then I went out kept doing it and then yesterday I ended up at Javi’s and I was tired and-,” 

“Slow down,” 

“It’s my six month review,  and I got so worried then I found it in my pocket! I didn’t know it was there and I just did it! Then Javi caught me again and he kicked me out here!” 

“Do you know how much you took?” 

“Like a tiny bit but I’ll be fine in an hour but-,” Tears slipped from your eyes once again, “What am I going to do?”

Connie didn’t know what to say. She knew you had been going out more with some new friends, Steve had complained because he was always woken up by you when you came back drunk from a party. That's all she thought was going on, you were partying, drinking, like you should at your age. But as she had come to learn, a lot of things in Columbia were not what they seemed. It seemed the darker side of life here had managed to get it’s claws well and truly into you. It broke her heart to see you like this, so broken up. 

You stayed with Connie for the rest of the afternoon, sat on the couch riding out the end of you high. TV kept you company and Connie chewed her nails trying to work out what to do. She thought should call Steve, but if Javier was the one to drop you off here, he probably already knew. She wondered how long it had been going on for, she didn’t get to see you as much as her husband and his partner, whenever she’d seen you you seemed fine, if a little hungover at times. When she thought about, all three of you had taken on destructive habits to cope with the hell you saw every day. Steve was becoming more aggressive by the week, while she knew she was safe she didn’t like what she saw when he flipped out. Everyone in the building knew about Javier’s escapades and now you. It was upsetting to watch from the outside, she couldn’t imagine what it was really like to go through. 

You woke up half an hour later, muddled and more tired than when you’d fallen asleep. 

“Feeling better?” Connie asked with a sympathetic smile.

“Feel like shit,” You muttered. Your head pounded and the heaviness still sat in your chest. That was the kicker, the coke could mask feelings very well but every time you sobered up they were still there waiting. You sighed heavily, pushing yourself to sit up where you’d slumped over, and rubbed your face with your sweaty palms. “What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know sweetie, but I’ll be here to help you,” Connie said kindly, as she sat on the couch next to you. You felt awful for dragging her into all this, yet another person you had let down, ”I think you should tell your boss? Or you’re coordinators, maybe they’ll help,” 

“I’ll be sent home!” You protested, tears filling your eyes once again, “I don’t want to go home, not now!” 

“You can’t keep it to yourself, it will only get worse,” She said, you nodded sadly and cried on her shoulder as she pulled you in for a hug. “I suggest a hot bath, watch some cheesy movie- I managed to find that Indiana Jones movie on tape. I know you love Harrison Ford,” 

“That sounds nice,” You smiled weakly. Connie let you go and grabbed the movie along with a bottle of wine for you. You gathered yourself together, enough to get yourself from Connie’s couch to your own at least. 

“I’m sure Steve won’t notice it’s gone. Go and chill out and watch the movie, have a bit of normality for a change. You’ll feel better I promise,” 

“Thank you Connie, you’re a really good friend,” 

“It’s no problem sweetie, like I said I’m always here for you,” 

Connie gave you another tight squeeze before you left. Iin the hallway you heard the clatter of Javi’s keys in his door below. You wanted to apologise to him, you wanted him to help you! You wanted things to go back to how they were before all this but you knew Javi wouldn’t talk to you. He’d displayed his distaste for the people that fell under the powder’s spell before, he wasn’t going to help. He had trusted you to sort it out yourself but now it was abundantly clear you couldn’t. 

Once again your brain reminded you how easy it would be to get some more coke to cheer yourself up. You could go downstairs and walk down the street, find one of your friends and be happy again so quickly. You didn’t have to feel this pain. 

This time, you ignored it and locked yourself in your apartment. You took yourself to bed immediately, not even bothering to turn on any lights along the journey through the tiny space. You fell on the bed face first. As soon as your body hit the soft material you curled up as tight as you could and began to cry. 

You had failed. You had let your team down, let your coordinators down, let your classmates down and let your family down. You didn’t even want to think about the conversation you would have to have with your mom as to why you were coming home six months early from a placement you fought so hard to get. You thought you could handle it, but you couldn’t. You failed.

--

Part 2

Translations (disclaimer I'm sorry if these are wrong I've been learning Spanish for all of 3 months hence the limited use)

Abra la puerta - open the door

No lo siento Javi. ¡Es divertido! - I’m not sorry Javi, it’s fun!

Eres enojado - are you angry?

No lo sé - I don’t know

Para!- stop!

Lo siento- I’m sorry

Pero- but

Me vale - I don’t care

The next part will be out next Friday! Want to get tagged? Let me know! 

Tag list: @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @browneyes-djarin @themidnightsun-12​

gunna be cheeky and tag some mutuals i think may be interested? @ithinkwehitametaphor​ @wille-zarr​ 

[golbrocklovely]

since i got asked about posting some more tweets, here is the rest of colby's tweets from 2018.

i don’t have proof that these are his tweets, but believe me, they are his.

if it’s bold and italicized, it’s someone’s tweet to him.

if it’s in (), that’s just me commenting lol

~~~~~~~~~~~

Oct. 3 - livin in a fantasy world

Go off!!! modeling?? Is it in his future? Who will know

Oct. 4 - that would be a dream

moments w you last forever

Oct. 6 - “wonder who you’ll love when i die”

@/ColbyBrock what do you want in a girl?

Oct. 9 - best friend

Oct. 10 - even though i’m forgetful af ill always remember moments that were so special to me

the stars don't make me think about you like they used to

Oct. 11 - it’s rare to find people who can handle your soul just right. hold on to those people

Oct. 14 - you know someone’s emo if you can hear their clothes before you see them

Oct. 18 - i’ll never take someone to the movies for our first date..  idk why people do that, i wanna make a moment together that we’d remember forever

someone wrote something but it’s been deleted

right? that’s like middle school dates lmao

Oct. 19 - you ever meet someone who leaves you stunned cause they’re so beautiful? like someone who literally glows and radiates beauty? without even trying? yeah. i met a girl like that today.

(ngl I think about this tweet so often… COLBY BE MUSHY AGAIN ☹ also imagine being the girl this tweet is about…. Im dead)

Oct. 23 - who’s left to trust other than myself ?

Oct. 26 - she’s nothin but trouble. but i like to get in trouble

Oct. 27 - im scared to get too close to anyone

Oct 29 - tonight's one for the books

Oct. 30 - so the cops came last night ... we got fined for HAVING THE BEST HALLOWEEN PARTY IN LA HAHAH

Nov. 1 - her memory haunts me in a perfect, beautiful way

Nov. 2 - i wanna see if i’d suck complete ass at making music

Nov. 4 - timing is everything, and i just wish we didn’t miss our moment

Nov. 9 - i wonder if my old friends from kansas think of me as much as i think of them

i’ve been so much happier recently doing things for myself. putting myself first and what i want before others. it sounds selfish, but sometimes necessary if you’re feelin down

Nov. 13 - things are so different without you in my life

Nov. 17 - some days are easy some days are hard

Nov. 19 - as obvious as this sounds, just want to remind you that YOUR LIFE is controlled by YOU. if you want to change, create, experience, manifest anything .. it’s up to YOU. so easy to forget this sometimes. become the person you want to be

Nov. 20 - i can’t live here forever

Nov. 22 - i love u and i am thankful for u in my life

Nov. 23 - lmao social media LA is like high school

Nov. 25 - i’m gunna be single foreva where the dogs at ?

one time i held a girl's hand, but i got too nervous

Dec. 7 - you’re different and i like that

Dec. 8 - why is it that people only start to care when you don’t ?

Relationships scare me yooo like I don’t even have enough time to devote to myself lol

Dec. 9 - that’s why we wait for a while. nows the time to be single and focus on ourselves

Dec. 12 - with all the insecurities/negativity that derive from social media and the entertainment world present day , i’m so scared for the next gen of kids and what they’re gunna have to deal with

social media is great for many reasons i’m not going to address now,  but also very harmful for mental health. ESPECIALLY for young, impressionable kids who look up to dumbass content creators. us creators forget the impact we have on our fans sometimes.. and that’s terrifying

subconsciously comparing yourself to others constantly, # of likes and followers, being judged for everything you post are all great examples of “the bad” part of social media. SOCIAL MEDIA IS GOING TO BE THE CAUSE OF SO MANY MENTAL HEALTH PROBLEMS IN THE FUTURE

end: not saying you should stop being on social media or supporting creators at all, just PLEASE take breaks if you ever feel that it’s consuming you. too much of anything can destroy you inside. take new tech. at your own pace and don’t get caught up in it all

Dec. 17 - sayin goodbye to all fake friends

Dec. 19 - simple. negativity creates negativity. positivity creates positivity. you decide what you release into the universe. forgive. learn. find yourself in others.

Dec. 24 - some girls on social media act like the cliche popular cheerleaders in highchool 🤣 #foreverstuck

Dec. 26 - sitting next to the most talkative person in the world on my flight back to LA *slowly putting my headphones in*

Dec. 29 - rather waste my days w you

Dec. 30 - damn i’m sad about moving out and we haven’t even moved out yet

Navi’s been sleeping next to me every night. my heart

[seanfalco]

I Caught Fire | Klaus Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k Prompt: (I can’t find the original prompt, but it was from the I wish you’d write a fic where... series) Klaus & y/n’s first time Requested by: Anonymous Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, awkward sex, oral sex a/n: This was sitting in my to write list for a while (I’m so sorry!)  Takes place in the PwF’verse, an extra scene from Klaus’s POV that takes place during Chapter 2 of Playing with Fire

It was strange being back at the mansion, all the memories from his youth he’d forgotten or purposefully blocked out kept sneaking up on him, rushing back to choke him at the most inappropriate moments.

Rubbing his kohl smudged eyes, Klaus reached for his clothes strewn abandoned across the parlor floor from the night before when he’d collapsed to the leather couch in naught but his underwear… was it even his?  He wondered for a moment, glancing down at the colourful leopard spotted pattern.  He honestly couldn’t seem to remember where it’d come from.

Shrugging, he dressed, ignoring Ben, and headed for his old room, where more memories were surely waiting for him.

As he stepped across the threshold he found, bingo! he was right, and he bit his lip as the memories assailed him, almost as annoying as the ghosts that hounded him and he wondered if he were high enough if he could drown those memories out too. 

These ones actually weren’t bad per se, but the pain they brought hurt so much worse.

“Ugh,” Klaus groaned heavily, throwing himself down on the bed and draping his arm over his face.  As tempting as it was, he didn’t exactly want to think about his first kiss, which had happened right where he lay, or the fact that the woman it had happened with happened to be downstairs at this very moment, and despite her hostility yesterday (which frankly, he deserved) he still wanted to kiss her.

Lifting his arm he sighed as his eyes found the scribbled lyrics on the wall nearby and his thoughts drifted to the very last time either of them had set foot in this room and what had come after. 

——

[ Twelve Years Ago ]

“You don’t hafta do this y’know.  The old man kicked me out, not you,” Klaus exclaimed as [y/n] ambled next to him, her bag of belongings slung over her shoulder, while he dragged his behind him.

“Are you kidding me?” she scoffed, “stick around that hellhole without you?  No, thank you.  You obviously don’t know me as well as you think you do,” she exclaimed, nudging him with her shoulder as he leaned into her.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, my lovely partner in crime,” Klaus announced, pausing to reach into his jacket pocket, “because check what I nicked before we left,” he exclaimed, holding out the rather valuable trinkets he’d taken from the living room cabinet.

“And what’re you gunna do with those? [y/n] asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Pawn them, duh,” he exclaimed, dropping the valuables back in his pocket and slinging his arm around [y/n]’s shoulder.

The money they got from their ill gotten gains was enough to pay for an upscale motel room for a couple nights -- long enough to figure out what to do from there, as well as a small baggie of pills Klaus carefully tucked into his jacket pocket.

“Ooh, swanky,” Klaus exclaimed as he pushed open the door to their room, and stepping inside, turned to make a flourish as he pulled [y/n] in after him.

“My dear, welcome to our palace!  Well, for the next five days, at least.”

[y/n]’s laughter warmed him and he grinned as he followed her in further, flopping down on the bed next to her as he bounced on it lightly where she sat.

“Hey, at least it’s comfortable,” she exclaimed, flopping back as well before turning her face to him.  “Now what d’you wanna do?”

“Order some take out, I’m starving,” Klaus replied, his stomach growling pointedly.

A couple hours later, empty takeout containers littered the dresser and nightstand while [y/n] and Klaus watched tv in a heap, content and comfortable.

“Hey [y/n],” Klaus murmured suddenly, catching her attention and she turned to him, propping her chin in her hand.  

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admitted, reaching out to take her hand and she smiled.

“Me too.  There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” she murmured, threading her fingers with his.

For a long moment they merely stared at each other, Klaus’s pulse pounding in his ears as he wet his lips.  She was so close, all he had to do was lean in…

“Klaus,” [y/n] whispered, her eyes flicking up to meet his.

“Yeah?” he breathed, not daring to move.

“D’you wanna make out?” she asked, her lips curling impishly, drawing a grin to his face as well.

“You read my mind, sweetheart,” Klaus exclaimed, and before he knew it she was kissing him, her hands balled in his shirt, pulling him closer and he obliged, rolling atop her as his lips moved insistently against hers.

Acting on instinct, he drew his knee up between her legs as he hovered over her and she moaned into his mouth as she ground against his thigh, her tongue darting out to meet his in a somewhat sloppy dance.

Each time [y/n] writhed against him, Klaus could feel the crotch of his jeans grow tighter and he groaned, [y/n]’s soft moans in his ears certainly not helping matters.

“[y/n],” he murmured, pulling back to catch his breath, his voice husky.

“Hmm?” she hummed, shifting under him as she plucked at his shirt.

“Do you wanna, oh, I dunno…” Klaus trailed off, suddenly feeling foolish.

“Do I wanna… what?” she replied softly, biting her lip as she gazed up at him knowingly, clearly wanting him to say it.

“Nah, you wouldn’t want to,” he mused teasingly, a mischievous smirk tugging at his swollen lips at the pout that flashed across [y/n]’s face.

“Klaus!” she huffed, slipping her hands up under his shirt to run up his chest, sending a fresh wave of arousal through him.

“Oh, alright,” he relented, grinning hesitantly, “d’you wanna fool around?” he asked, holding his breath.

“I thought you’d never ask,” [y/n] breathed and Klaus groaned, half sitting up to help her push his shirt up over his head before his lips once more crashed against hers with a fresh sense of urgency.  As their tongues warred, hands groped, searching for flesh and tearing at clothes until they’d both undressed, [y/n] laid blessedly bare before him.

Klaus paused, letting his gaze roam over her, taking a moment to really see her, memorizing her every curve and swell.  He’d never seen her like this before, completely unclothed, and now that he had, he wished she never had to dress again.

“What?” [y/n] asked, flushing as she noticed him staring, attempting to cover herself with her arms, but he caught her wrists, lifting them so he could see her unhindered.

“No, don’t hide,” he murmured, awe coating his words and [y/n] turned her face to the side in embarrassment.

“Klaus!”

“What?” he asked, gently nudging her chin back toward him.  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, catching her eyes.  “It’s a shame to cover this work of art!” he exclaimed, slowly running his hands down her warm skin, wanting to feel every inch of her.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she arched into his touch and he didn’t fail to notice the appraising way her half lidded eyes traversed his body in turn, causing him to blush this time.

His physique had never really been something he’d been proud of, thinking himself rather tall and gangly growing up, but the way [y/n] looked at him… he felt desirable.

“So, we gunna do this or what?” [y/n] asked, sighing as Klaus leant forward to kiss her again.

“Hell yeah,” he replied with a smirk, his hand trailing southward, to slip between her thighs, his fingers brushing her sex as she gasped.

“Jesus, you’re so wet,” he exclaimed with a groan, his cock twitching at just the thought of being buried in those slick folds soon enough.

“Wait!” [y/n] gasped, her eyes snapping open as if she’d just remembered something.

“What?  Something wrong?” he asked, worry clutching him that maybe she’d changed her mind already.

“No!” she exclaimed quickly, noticing the panic on his face.  “Just, uh… do you have a condom?” she asked.

Fuck.  Klaus’s dark limned eyes widened in horror, his mouth falling open.  “I don’t…” he admitted.  Was he really gunna get this far only to be cockblocked by his lack of condoms?

[y/n]’s laughter tore him out of his thoughts and he gaped at her.  “What the fuck’s so funny?” he yelped, his lips drawing into a pout which only made her laugh harder.

Pushing herself up, she placed a peck to his stunned lips -- wait, was she leaving?!  Reaching over the side of the bed, she grabbed her bag and began rummaging through it.

“What’re you doing?” he demanded weakly, confused, until [y/n] straightened, a small foil packet between her fingers.  

“Getting this,” she answered, flashing him a smirk.

“Why do you have a condom?” Klaus exclaimed, his brows drawing down as [y/n] giggled, patting his cheek.

“Because I had a feeling this would happen.”

“Wait, how long have you had that?  And how many do you have?” he asked incredulously, watching her eyes dart away.

“Does it matter?” she countered, but Klaus wasn’t ready to let this drop, crawling closer to where she knelt, pulling her into his arms.  “Just how long have you been thinking about jumping my bones, huh?” he pressed, amusement filling him at the evasive look in her eyes and the way her cheeks warmed.

“Klaus,” she groaned.

“No, I’m curious,” he exclaimed with a grin, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers.

“A while, okay?” she mumbled, “and I may have bought a whole… box of them.”

“Oooooh,” Klaus exclaimed, laughter tinging his voice as he eased her to her back, plucking the condom wrapper from her hand as he stole a deep kiss.  “What would I do without you, my dear?” he exclaimed with a wink as he straightened.

Fumbling with the wrapper, his tongue peeked out between his teeth in concentration.  

“Do you need some help, Klaus?” [y/n] asked, fighting back a smile as she watched him struggle.

“I’ve got it!” he huffed, a little petulantly, which only made [y/n]’s grin grow and she took him by surprise as she sat back up, her hand wrapping round his cock, giving it an experimental stroke and Klaus nearly dropped the condom as the wrapper tore open, an involuntary moan springing from his lips.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped feebly.  

Giggling softly, [y/n] grabbed the condom, biting her lip as she pinched the end and slowly rolled the sides down his cock til he was covered.

“There, now you’re good to go,” she murmured with a smirk as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down atop her.

In this position -- [y/n] naked below him, his cock wrapped in a condom, hovering at her entrance, it finally hit him what was about to happen and a wave of nerves washed over him.  What if he was bad?  What if he hurt her?  What if this changed things between them forever?

“A-are you ready?” he asked, noticing the apprehension radiating from her as well, but when his eyes found hers she nodded without hesitation.

“I’m ready.  I want this.  I want you,” she said, her voice firmer than his had been.

“Okay, well here we go then,” he exclaimed with a nervous laugh, his cock slipping as he tried to press into her, forcing him to reach between them and guide his overeager cock to her slick folds, his heart leaping into his throat at the way her breath hitched.

“You okay?” he asked, stopping abruptly.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, though she grimaced slightly as he continued to slide into her, the tightness of her walls clenching around him nearly more than he could handle.

“You sure?” Klaus pressed, his voice hoarse, before swallowing.

“Just, go slow,” she whispered, letting out a shuddering breath, her fingers clutching at his forearms.

Klaus nodded, taking a deep breath before moving again, his eyes nearly rolling up into his head at the sensation.  He’d never imagined being inside her would feel this good.  If he wasn’t careful he’d blow his load before even getting properly started and that was the last thing he wanted.  He wanted to make her feel good, to hear her screaming his name as she writhed beneath him, lost in a haze of pleasure he created. 

“God, you feel amazing, [y/n],” he gasped, pausing as he finally sheathed her completely, gazing down at her as he hovered somewhat stiffly over her.  “You still alright?”

She nodded, her hands sliding up his arms to hold his face, her thumb stroking his cheek as she wrapped her legs around his waist.  “Fuck me, Klaus.  Please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Klaus said incredulously and he began to move.  Slowly.  Awkwardly.  Pulling out too far only to have to guide himself back in haltingly before resuming, thrusting slowly as he watched [y/n]’s face fervently, his heart pounding in his ears, pride filling him with each moan she let slip.

Her sounds egged him on and she began to roll her hips in time, meeting each thrust, his movements strengthening, his pace quickening as confidence filled him, losing himself in his pleasure until he realized with horror that all too soon he was about to come... and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, dropping his face to her neck as he came, his muscles tensing before he reluctantly lifted his face with a grimace.

“Did you just…?” [y/n] asked, frowning slightly and Klaus cleared his throat.

“Uh… yeah,” he admitted sheepishly, noticing the disappointment on her face, though she tried hard to hide it as he pushed himself up, discarding the used condom in the trash can next to the bed.  Biting his lip, he thought quickly, wanting to salvage the situation.  Things had not gone how he wanted at all and he didn’t want to leave [y/n] hanging for their first time.

Before she could sit up, Klaus turned back to her, holding her down as a thought came to him, his gaze roaming her body.

“Klaus?” she asked, confusion lacing her voice though hope flashed across her face for a moment.

“Oh no you don’t,” he chastised lightly, parting her legs and positioning himself between them.  “Did you really think I wasn’t gunna make sure you came too?” he asked, bringing an embarrassed grin to her lips and she covered her face with her hands.

“Yeah, no way, [y/n],” he exclaimed, teasing her folds with his fingers as he leaned over to plant a trail of kisses down her chest, taking the time now to memorize her body with his mouth, unsure if he was doing it right, but doing what felt good.

The supple feel of her warm flesh beneath his lips was nice, but the sounds she made as he neared his destination were enough to send arousal coursing through him again.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be good to go again soon, but first... there’s something I wanna try,” he mused against her skin, a nervous flutter filling his stomach at the thought of what he was about to do, hoping he’d be better at it than his first attempt at sex.

When his lips brushed against her sex she gasped, the sound sending a shiver through him and when his tongue hesitantly swiped up her folds to her clit she tensed beneath him, her hands clenching in the sheets.

“Fuck, Klaus--!” she moaned, her hips rolling against his face and he grinned at her response.

Fuck, but she tasted so good.  He’d never imagined that something could taste this heavenly.

Lapping eagerly, Klaus took his guide from her, trying several approaches before finding what she seemed to like, refocusing his efforts there til she was squirming beneath him, her hands moving from the sheets to bury in his short unruly curls.

His jaw was starting to tire, but he could tell she was close and he’d be damned if he gave up before finishing her, wanting desperately to watch her come undone, her moans alone driving him crazy.  Pausing for a moment to catch his breath Klaus dove back in, spreading her folds with one hands as he reached up her body to grope her breast roughly as he practically buried his face in her cunt, lapping broad unrelenting strokes against her clit as her cries grew louder, his cock growing hard again as he ground his hips against the bedding below him.

“Klaus, I’m--!” she didn’t even get the words out before she threw her head back with a high pitched whine, her whole body arching off the bed, pressing her cunt harder against his mouth, but he didn’t stop until she finally went limp beneath him, wanting to make sure she’d came.

Lifting his head, his face coated with her slick he met her gaze as she looked down at him, reaching for him, and Klaus quickly crawled back up to her, wiping his lips and chin with the back of his hand before laying next to her and pulling her into his arms.

“Klaus, that was…” she murmured, taking a deep breath as her eyes fluttered shut, her forehead pressing to his, “that was fucking amazing.”

“You like that?” he asked, pride filling him.  

“I really like that,” she answered, grinning up at him.

“Good,” he replied, squeezing her tighter.  “I didn’t completely fail.”

“Hey now,” she murmured, holding his face tightly between her hands.  “Don’t say that.”

“But--” he yelped, quickly quieting under her stern look.

“From what I can feel, you’re gunna be good to go again soon,” she pointed out, rubbing her thigh against his hardening cock and he flushed.  “Did it turn you on that much to eat me out?” she asked and Klaus quieted her with a kiss.

“Maybe,” he admitted, clearing his throat.  “But you’re right, I’ll be good to go again very soon, as long as you wanna give it another go?” he asked hesitantly.

“I do have a whole box of condoms,” [y/n] mused, raising her eyebrows as she regarded him, a grin playing at her lips.

“You do, don’t you,” Klaus agreed, smirking in turn.  “And we have this motel room for the next few days,” he pointed out, to which she nodded.  “I bet by the time we check out, we’ll be really good at this.”

[y/n] laughed, letting Klaus roll her to her back again, sighing as he plied her with kisses.

——

Opening his eyes, Klaus groaned, pushing himself up off his childhood bed with a grimace.  Now that [y/n] was definitely on his mind, he needed more than ever to find something to help dull those thoughts.  Shoving his hands in his coat pockets he rummaged through them, hoping there was at least one pill left.  

Finding none, he pushed himself up completely before ambling to the door and peering down the hall both ways.

Maybe he could find something else to pawn.

Heading in the direction of Five’s old room, he set to work scouring every nook and cranny for something, anything valuable -- needing just a little cash to chase a high.  Little did he know that the woman he was so desperately trying to get off his mind was about to catch him in the act, rendering any hope of escape completely useless.  

But really, he’d be lying if that wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

————————

Klaus Tag List: @magic-multicolored-miracle @midnightseance @etherealsxnder @iamsexytrash @orions-nebula @unlistedpond @remibarnes22 @slutforrobbiebro

[skelanonymous]

Song Prompt 2

I basically took this as “think on your mistakes, go forward, it’ll be okay”

@a-weird-tree

Words:4.2k

Song(s): It’s Alright - Mother Mother/Panic Room - Au/ra

Skeleton: Nightmare

-

“I’m here if you need me.” 

Nightmare wished the last words he’d heard didn’t have to be from Dream, even if it made a lot of poetic sense considering the task he was on.

The ashen landscape hadn’t changed in the millenia he’d been gone. Nothing different from the day he left, only a statue no longer standing by her side, even the grass dead and non-growing. Time had left this place, following his brother in its frozen state, though the life of this place hadn’t been returned like it had to Dream.

So many bodies. The lack of time had halted the rot, blood stained dirt muddy and thick near his sneakers. The gentle pull from his soul made him sigh before standing up straight to walk into the mass of buildings off east of the hill.

Walking over the uneven cobblestone (made by hand by an older stonesmith who’d been teaching his son at the time), his eye slid over the multiple empty homes. Shops with goods still lining the shelves, broken glass shattered across the wooden floorboards, countertops in disarray from the frantic fleeing they’d attempted, it fell on his chest like an anvil, breath stolen. He pushed past it to step around behind the counter.

He’d only needed to browse for a moment before finding what he was looking for. He grabbed it with his hands, gathering some provisions in a bag before heading back out to his new home.

From the top of the hill, the field expanded westward for a mile uninterrupted. That’s where he’d have to start.

With a blank face, he forced the shovel into the dirt and hauled out the first of many piles. He couldn’t do a full six feet with his hands, but three would give them rest. No animal could dig them out, all had long since gone, so that’d have to be enough.

The shovel was clumsy in his grasp. His hands ached with the work of it before even the first grave had been dug, not used to ignoring his tentacles, where his strength and power were most potent, but no. They had been laid low by his corruption. If he was to find any sense of recompense in the act, it had to be his own two hands by which he sent them to peace.

Shovelful by shovelful, the dirt to the side grew larger than the hole until the first was done. 

The first was going to be the hardest to get here.

When the idea had first occurred, it’d been before the truce. He had too much to do, his own corruption as valuable an ally in his fight as any of the others, perhaps moreso. Too much was left to fight for that required its defense.

He had brushed the idea aside completely until the truce had been first drafted. But the truce was fresh, easily broken with a word. Animosity did not dissolve within a fortnight, nor did camaraderie grow, even under the promise of fresh sunlight and clean water. He couldn’t send his best soldier home when war could break out at any second. As weary as it made him, he had carried this longer than he had existed at this point, five times more spent in this shadow than under the shade of his mother. The memories were faded and grey at the edges. He could live without them.

Days to weeks, months to years, all of his company had learned to move on. He’d held none back from their progress. The peace in their eyes made his own ache, but he wished them the best. The last had been Dust, his the hardest to truly relieve. Time truly could heal all wounds.

“I think I’m gunna go to Horror’s timeline...Now that’s the shortage is over, it’s pretty quiet there.” Dust had shuffled in the main hall. He looked so uncomfortable, Nightmare trying to pull his own aura back into himself.

“And Horror is there.” Nightmare took a step back, gesturing to the door with a kind bow. “You’ll do well with him. You suit each other.”

Dust blushed purple, eyelights flicking around, before resettling on Nightmare with sorrow in the lines of his face.

“You could come too.” He looked him in the face, desperate. “Being alone isn’t good for people bo-Nightmare.” Dust fiddled with his sleeves.

“I would impede your progress Dust. My part in your life has come to a conclusion, and I am at peace with that.” Nightmare hoped the smile was reassuring. Dust had fought against the psychosis, no sanity came as hard fought as Dust’s, he deserved the rest.  “I have always survived, you don’t have to worry about me.” 

“They ask me about you all the time, you know.” He inched closer to the door. A compromise. 

“And I ask you about them. We spent a long time together.” Nightmare hadn’t seen any of them since they left the castle. He knew his aura was poison to their progress, an ever present reminder of all they tried to move forward from. He missed them more than he could say. “But even now, you can’t help but call me boss. You have fewer nightmares when you sleep in other timelines. You can’t be here, and I can’t go there with you.”

“We would give up all our progress if it meant seeing you not stay here alone for the rest of your life.” Dust’s eyes watered. “We all wanted you to make it out of here. Being the last means that I failed too.”

“You didn’t fail.” Night wanted so badly to reassure him, but he was negativity, his touch would rob the little strength he had to leave. “I don’t know if I can be saved.”  The truth hurt to say. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. How does one unlearn all that you are?”

“You don’t have enough faith in yourself. Please.” Dust had held out his hand, the other on the door.

Nightmare knew if he reached out, Dust would turn to him and try to save him from himself. But no. Night pulled his hands to his chest.

“Go. He’s waiting for you.” Dust had left with a slammed door.

Then silence. 

Silence for months, nothing but dust and books for friends. He’d kept to his castle, afraid of even glancing at them from portals, of bringing as much misfortune as he had to wherever he touched.

The idea had come back to him on the anniversary of Dust’s departure. He’d sent out a small summon to his brother, who’d come the instant he’d been called, fearing the worst.

“Brother?!”

“I’m right here Dream. I’m not in peril.” He looked up from his book, seated on a bench. Nightmare took to reading in the courtyard most days. He’d gotten through every book once before, this was one of his favorites to reread. “Though I’m thankful for your haste if I was.”

“I mean, yeah! No one’s heard from you in a while. I was starting to think…”Dream shook his head. “So what do you need? Anything I can do to help.” He held out his golden glove to Night. He had taken it so hesitantly, his brother the only person who he couldn’t affect but unused to contact after so long.

“I have things to show you.”

He’d brought him through the castle. He led him to every magical artifact, the secret chambers that hid anything placed within them, and a copy of the key to his treasured library. His entire legacy, every tool, things that could not be replaced.

“I think that’s everything. I’m entrusting this knowledge to you Dream. It felt important you know. The others deserve to not be called upon.”

“I agree but why would I need to call them? It’s your castle. I can just ask you.” Dream looked him over with worried eyes. “Right?” Nightmare sighed.

“No.” He held up a hand before Dream could yell. “I am going to be away from the castle. I do not know for how long.”

“Doing what?! Because telling me about ALL of this means this is a long trip!” Night could see all of Blue’s influence in him, almost professionally assessing him to see what they could work through. He was eternally grateful to Blue for his services but not for the inquisition he’d face for this decision.

“It most likely will be very long.” Nightmare didn’t elaborate.

“What are you planning?” Dream grabbed his shoulders, full brotherly concern on display. Night smiled at him. Dream panicked harder. “Nightmare, please don’t do anything drastic. Everyone really cares about you.” Night chuckled but it didn’t reach his tired eyes.

“Unfortunately, drastic is the only way I know.” He flicked Dream on his crown, nose scrunched up with the twang. “I don’t plan on dying in some corner of the world. I’m not a wounded animal.” Nightmare held the trembling hands in front of him. “I just need to go find something.”

“Well let’s go look toge-”

“Alone.”

“Nightmare.” He pleaded with his eyes. “You’ve been alone for so long already. Who was the last person you saw besides me?”

“Dust.” He didn’t shy away from the shock.

“That was a YEAR ago.” Dream pulled him towards the nearest door. “You just need to-”

“Dream.” He’d never felt so tired. It’d been many moons since he’d pulled this card, he only hoped his brother would understand. “Daydream, please.”

The fight drained from Dream in an instant. His eyes softened to tears, so much younger in that moment than Nightmare had seen since he’d awoken from that statue. Nightmare wiped a few away, meeting his eyes with renewed effort, resigned but ready.

“I need this. You’re the only one I can trust with the multiverse. I need you to carry it for both of us. I’m sorry to set it upon your shoulders.”

And Dream, the kind person he was, didn’t hesitate.

“I can handle it Nighty.” He pulled him into a hug. “So you keep looking until you find what you need to. I’ve got stuff handled here, and plenty of help if I get a little overwhelmed. Just...come back.” He’d waved Nightmare off into his portal with a smile.

“I’m here if you need me.”

The first body was the last. She’d been young, the last child, protected at the expense of the adults around her at every turn. He couldn’t even recall her name now. He found her in the forest, picking up her broken body as carefully as he feasibly could using only his arms. He started the sad march towards the hole.

He laid her in the earth with dignity. He cleaned off her face, finding a dropped toy nearby that felt familiar when he saw it, which he tucked into her arms.

Nightmare reflected on her death.

“The last of those bastards. Any last words?!” She’d only screamed. He cut her down painfully, multiple stabs with sharpened corruption, watching her bleed out to satisfy his own need for vengeance, served a hundred times over before this last death. His body fought his revulsion but he let the feeling flow. He’d been despicable.

A flash of memory from that night. It was gone before he could catch it.

He waited another few moments before taking up the shovel again. He covered her as quietly as he’d dug the grave, slow painful work on his hands that he trudged forward through. After the last bit of dirt had settled, he found a stone and placed it at the head.

Then he walked to the right and started again.

Nightmare managed three graves by the time he could not continue. He’d gotten the two people he’d felled just before the girl. He grieved each, laying them to rest, stumbling and pained, but he wanted to do this the right way.

When he could no longer continue, he pulled an apple from the provisions he’d grabbed.

He put it back.

Nightmare made his home by the tree, laying by her stump. He’d spent so many nights here, but the stars didn’t jog his memory at all. Nothing remained of before, none of what mattered to him. His mother was dead, Dream off running the multiverse, he himself changed, what could he even recognize?

He didn’t recall drifting off, though the nightmares that played across his mind meant he had to have slept. 

Night grabbed a bit of bread, looked up at the unchanging sky, and got to work again.

For weeks, the same pattern: wake, eat, lay the villagers to rest, consider the apple, sleep restlessly. Night’s corruption claimed his mind first, and many lives after. He owed them all the proper burial they’d been denied for centuries now.

Each dream got more vivid. The first taste of corruption, the first few to fall, turning Dream to stone, it got clearer each day. It wasn’t doing wonders to his sanity. Part of him wondered if this was the best chance of recovery, or of losing it completely and killing either the multiverse or himself. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d walk to the river in the forest.

The sound of running water was louder than his thoughts in the silence of the universe. He walked along it with his hands in his pockets and would imagine the castle.

Who accompanied him changed each day. Killer smiled but often made jokes at his expense or that of the dead. Dust’s hallucination acted as his own, egging him on to find more to kill. Horror’s mentioned the feast lying around, endlessly held edible by the lack of passing time. 

Error only visited once, his silence drowning out the brook. Nightmare left early and didn’t finish a single grave.

On a particularly productive day (he’d gotten through five), Dream accompanied him, and that’s when he remembered something from long ago. His voice complained, but he still knew the words.

The old folk song travelled across the world. The villagers had taught them at first, but Nightmare had sung Dream to sleep so much, he looked into so many more songs. He serenaded his phantom Dream from his small walk and slept peacefully for a single night.

The next day, his voice acted on its own.

He hummed while digging. He sang to the dead as he moved them, as an eulogy after their entombment, and went back to humming when he filled them and moved to the next. The silence of the world invited many demons, the lilt of a song brought back warmth of the past he’d long since lost. He remembered telling the others he didn’t sing; whether it was a lie or he truly forgot, he didn’t know.

The amount of graves was starting to stretch out far from the tree stump. He’d been at this for months, and now, the dead left numbered in double digits.

As he reached the last thirty, he leaned back onto the tall stump and realized nothing had blocked him. His unused tentacles had unformed, not needed and no longer reflex. Night breathed a sigh of relief up at the steady sky. Maybe he had a chance after all.

That night, when he considered the apple, he managed to put it up to his mouth. Not bite into, but it was progress, like so much else.

The second to last day ended as usual at first. He’d begun to sing songs he’d heard in other universes, voice strong from use. His hands had gotten so much better at holding the metal handle. His arms had regained strength, and bit by bit, the color was finally starting to leak back into the sky. This universe was healing. It had waited for him to return.

He only had one grave left. The village elder, the first to fall, the leader of the attacks against him. Night had never known his name besides Elder. 

His vengeance should’ve started and ended with him. 

No, that wasn’t the way to think anymore. Night had become what they feared, even if it was at their insistence, and a restless afterlife and the death of all his kin falling on him was punishment enough. He dug into the earth, humming the village tune, when the phantom heckled from behind.

“How dare you sing our song when you forsook us, monster.” Nightmare didn’t rise to the bait. He was not so lost as to not know reality from his own manifestations of guilt.

“Your brother was always the better one. I bet you killed him too.” Purposefully wrong, trying to pull him into this argument, he kept digging. Nightmare knew better than he did then. Young Nightmare had risen to many challenges he needn't be bothered with, but age brings wisdom, his past self having no ability to act out of the script he’d been forced to follow. He finished the grave with a wipe of his forehead.

“What do you think this does? Do you think this makes up for what you took? Our lives are not returned with this worthless ceremony.”

“Nothing will make up for what I took. I can only hope to be better going forward and to give back all that I am able.” Nightmare moved the body, staring directly at the ground, avoiding the phantom’s glares. “This place can move forward, and maybe then I can begin to.”

“As long as you are a monster, your mind will never leave this place, beast.”

“On that, we agree.” Nightmare bowed to his grave before beginning to fill it, the final task of his penance here. “But it can’t be killed easily.” The elder’s phantom considered him, before speaking carefully.

“Things borne of ourselves are the hardest to kill. We often choose to remove outside influences over those within.” Nightmare was struck with the memory of attending the elder’s many sermons. He had been a teacher as well, often giving lessons to the population for free. “But I can see its vice grip on you has loosened. What have you brought to kill it?”

“Nothing but myself and an apple.”

“Then I pray it is enough.” Nightmare finished the grave, dropping the shovel down for the last time.

“Me too.” 

The final headstone set down, he turned towards the tree stump.

Nightmare did nothing in half measures. He’d come prepared to die here if he needed to. So much of the night of the corruption was lost to the sludge, memory melted away by the power, only the spark of his brother’s positivity clear as a direct opposition to his own. But this corruption was magic, and all magic had a counter, an equal and opposite. Much of spellcraft found counters in the reverse, but how does one reverse something as horrifying as that night?

It was crude, but he tried. Night had said goodbye to Dream. He buried the villagers in reverse of the order he’d killed them. Now, he reached into the bag.

One crisp apple. It only took one to be lost.

He took it with trembling hands. It was so easy to raise to his teeth, almost calling for him to bite into the succulent skin. He closed his eye and bit down.

The corruption was acrid in his mouth. It tasted of the poison it was, but its darker temptation of power had made him bite into it again, and again, and again, until nothing remained. Anything to stop the judgement, the finger pointing, the thrown rocks, never having a place except by Dream’s side, and Dream had so many places he could fit effortlessly.

His eye flicked up to his brother, standing just under the tree, full of now blackened apples, his mouth full of the sludge he’d become, a pang of sadness at the horror on Dream’s face.

“Remember me as I was.” Then he’d grabbed the second. By the sixth, the tentacles had come alive on his back, ready to maim that which came to attack, but when he turned around, he was back in the dead world alone. His mind still pulsed with the event as if he’d lived it only a moment ago, and he couldn’t waste this opportunity.

“RAHHHHHH!” His vision blurred on the grass, tentacles furious digging a hole where no bodies lay. His body felt full, stuffed with corruption like a balloon, singeing his nerves from everything that ran black, pouring from his face directly into the hole that now was the right size. With a moment of clarity, he shoved his fingers down his throat.

He wretched endlessly, thick black corruption pouring out of him in heaves, unable to catch his breath while it left his body. It pooled and filled the hole. So much corruption, in such excess of all the magic in Nightmare’s body, his arms shook trying to hold him up. His soul burned raw, so much being torn from his entire being that it threatened to destabilize. He collapsed on his side, still spewing the poison until he passed out, unable to continue.

-

He came to gasping. His hands leapt to his throat instantly to soothe the burn. It stung, but looking forward, there was no liquid in the hole he’d collapsed beside, though what was inside was worse.

One black apple, unassuming in the otherwise empty hole. Night almost didn’t touch it.

When he reached for it, his eyes caught his hand. Pure ivory, matching the ivory arm, visible with both of his eyes.

He was free.

That aided his hand. He grabbed the apple, unafraid. Nightmare would not make the same mistake twice.

A glance around revealed more color than he’d remember seeing in ages. Flecks of green among the grass, the sky bright with a sun he hadn’t seen in eons, and a breeze of wind from time returning after so long gone. The world freed from stone could move forward, and now so could he.

His first order of business was clothes, his own ruined many times over by now. His corruption had held the poor things together, but sleeping on rocks hadn’t been kind to the soft hoodie. 

Picking through the village felt less somber now. These items would wear away with time, and he could use them. He grabbed some boots, loose pants, a purple tunic, and a worn leather bag to wear over his shoulder. Inside, a few provisions, the black apple, and a few books for his collection amongst the village, he had refused to set foot here before now.

Where to go now? He was free from his corruption, but not from himself. Nightmare himself was still an entire project he’d have to work at.

Though with his corruption lifted, it felt invigorating to have a fate of his own again.

First order of business was probably Dream. He’d left him alone for a long time, though the strange flow of time had made him lose track of exactly how much. He pulled on his magic to generate a portal.

“Fuck!” He’d reset himself back to the start. Of course he had little to work with. He’d have to ask Dream for a lift home when he got there. After a quick straightening of his back, he stepped through to wherever Dream was. He’d pulled on their connection to form the portal instead of picking a place. He walked down some sort of hallway he didn’t recognize, reaching the end of it to turn towards the noise.

Lots of eyes on him, he’d walked into a party. Probably Blue’s based on the amount and varying universes of the guests. He waved awkwardly.

“Um, hi.” He heard something shatter.

“Nightmare?” From the crowd, his brother squeezed out, bolting straight for him. Nightmare held his arms open and braced for impact.

“Yes Dream.” He managed to stay standing at his brother’s hug, but only just. He squeezed him hard enough to crack his back. “Be careful, you’re the more powerful one now.”

“I don’t care about that!” He clung to him and sobbed openly, which was really soaking up Night’s tunic, but he owed him this, rubbing his back through the tears. “I was so w-worrieeeeeed!”

“Well now you can stop worrying.” Nightmare chuckled at his over emotional brother. Then he felt the hand on his back.

“Is that really you boss?” Horror’s deep baritone reverberated down through his hand, shaking Night’s more fragile form. He mentally forgave Dream’s reaction when he turned to look at him. His hand rose to rest on Horror’s cheek, tracing under his chin to get a good look at him as he used to. His own eyes watered for the first time in decades.

“You look so well Horror. I’m...so happy...to see you.” He cried through it, holding him tight to feel the now sturdy bones underneath. He missed his boys so much. He didn’t even flinch at the sudden touch to his back, hearing Dust’s soft murmurs.

“We’re happy to see you too Nightmare.”

His soul, full of this feeling of reunion and relief, let loose tension it no longer had to hold. The future held much trial and tribulation, but it held equal amounts of moments like this, bonding and joy over simple celebrations.

Nothing but his own future.

[aspenflower17]

Finding You (Part One of ??)

Hello everyone! So, @simpingforsatan threw this awesome fic idea out into the void of Tumblr and I was fortunate enough to run across it. I’ll be posting it in a couple different parts. If this goes over well, I’ll do the other brothers too :) This part is mostly just setting up the story (I promise it gets more interesting in the future!)

Mc / Satan

Word Count:  2249 (I can’t write short things apparently) 

Warning: talk of dying, violence(?), F! Mc

Mc was thrilled. Simeon and Luke assured her it was a huge honor to be promoted to angel this quickly. The two had been so helpful helping her adjust to life in the Celestial Realm. She had had orientation just like everyone else, explaining that she had passed away and that yes, it was normal and even good she didn’t remember any of her life as a human. That way she wouldn’t be sad and could live in a blissfully happy state in the Celestial Realm.

It all would have been fine, had she not felt so lonely. Though everyone had been extremely kind, she couldn’t help feeling like there was someone, missing from her side as she laughed and chatted with everyone. When she told the angels what was going on, almost every single one of them told her she was probably just missing someone who hadn’t passed yet. It happened on occasion, but it just showed that they had been very close and that they would find each other again.

Simeon and Luke weren’t like that though. They just let her rant or cry whenever the feeling became too much for her to bear with a sympathetic nod and hug, with the occasional soft words of comfort.

As the time passed, and she still didn’t find who she was looking for, Mc grew very close to the two angels, which they were both delighted with. Though they didn’t fill the void, she felt at ease with them, like they were old friends. They told her her promotion was all due to her own merit, but she suspected they had something to do with it. So, of course when she was asked who she wanted her guardian angel to be, she chose Simeon.

The night before she was to be turned into an angel, she sat with Luke and Simeon in what was soon to be all of their’s living room. They were celebrating the fact she would soon join their family, and she was enjoying her last night as a… Well, whatever it was she was.

“So, I’ll turn into a child?” Though everything had already been explained, Mc wanted to make sure she knew everything.

“Yes. I’ll be put in charge of raising you, and Luke will help out as a big brother essentially.”

“And, I’ll still remember everything that’s happened here so far?”

“Yes, though it’s not as cut and dry as that. Though you’d will remember everything, you won’t really comprehend most of it.”

Mc nodded, the question she’d saved just for these two angels bubbling to the surface, “Will… Will I still feel lonely?”

Simeon and Luke shared a look, before turning back to Mc, “More than likely,” Simeon admitted.

“But,” Luke interjected, “We’ll be your new family, so you won’t be alone. You’re big brother will take care of you!”

“Thanks Luke. I am glad you accepted being my guardian angel Simeon.”

“My pleasure Mc.”

“Well, we are connected in so many ways, there’s no way we’d give you to someone else,” Luke said a bit haughtily.

“Wait… Connected? What do you mean?”

Luke threw his hand over his mouth, but tried to answer anyways, “Mothin. Don wor bou ih!”

“No. I really want to know,“Mc looked between the two angels who had averted their eyes, "Come on guys. Please?”

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” Simeon sighed, making Luke sink further into the chair he was sitting in. Mc waited, only slightly impatiently.

Finally, Luke sighed and looked her dead in the eyes, “I will only tell you if you promise not to dig further into what I’m going to tell you. You also have to promise you won’t tell any of the other angels I told you.”

“Of course,” Mc promised, her curiosity burning.

“Okay. Luke and I… met you during your human life.”

“Wait… You did?!”

“Yes.”

“Did I know you guys well?”

“Fairly well.”

“Is that why you guys are so nice to me?”

“All angels are nice Mc,"Luke reprimanded, sounding slightly offended.

"Well, yeah, but everyone else just kind of brushed off how I was feeling when I told them. You two were a lot more sympathetic.”

The angels looked at each other again, before Simeon answered, “Yes partially. We certainly wanted to help you since we knew you personally.”

“And the rest?”

“We’re angels. Of course we’re going to help.”

Mc eyed the Simeon, “You’re hiding something. You should know you’re really not a good liar,” to which Simeon started panicking, “But I promised not to pry,” which made him visibly relax. After a moment, Mc started again, “Can… Can you tell me… one… thing though?”

“… Possibly.”

“Do you know why I’m lonely? Why I feel like a part of me is missing?”

Simeon’s eyes and smile were sad as he answered, “Yes, I can guess as to why.”

“You can’t tell me though?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

Those soft words hurt, but Mc couldn’t blame Simeon. He wasn’t doing it out of spite.

“Well, I think it’s time for bed. You have a big day tomorrow and I need to make sure this place is still child proof.”

Mc bid them good night and started up the stairs to what would be her new room. As she climbed she made herself a promise, “I will figure it out one day though, and I’ll feel complete again.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Mc looked around, bored beyond reason. Sim had been talking to Father for FOREVER! He’d even taken Big Brother with him, so now she had to wait all by herself in this big chair.

“Mc, is that you?”

“Michael!” Mc exclaimed happily, grinning up at him.

“What are you doing out here?” Michael asked, kneeling down besides Mc’s chair.

She threw her hands around his neck, “I’m waiting for Sim and Big Brother to be done talking to Father. He told me I needed to sit here unless he called me in. They’ve been gone for so long,” Mc sighed melodramatically.

Michael laughed heartily, making Mc smile despite her display, “Well, maybe this will help,” as he handed her a cookie.

Mc gasped delighted, “Big brother’s gunna be so jealous!” Mc giggled, biting into the cookie.

“I have another idea,"Michael whispered conspiratorially.

"What’s that?” Mc asked.

“Well, you might not be able to go in and check what’s taking so long, but I can. Do you want me to?”

“Oh! Please? I’ve been really good. I promise.”

“Of course Mc,"Michael laughed, standing up and ruffling her hair, before disappearing behind those huge double doors.

Mc munched on her cookie as she waited for Michael to work his magic. He’d been very kind to her in the past and seemed to always be able to help her. Luke had explained how amazing Michael after she’d first met him, and though she didn’t share the same fervor as her brother, she did think he was very nice and she liked that he never seemed to trivialize her problems even though he was a very important angel.

To her delight, she didn’t have to wait long. Shortly after she’d finished her cookie, Luke stuck his head out one of the doors, "Mc, it’s time for you to come in.”

Mc was suddenly a little shy as she hopped off the chair. She hadn’t met Father for a long time. She was also worried they wouldn’t be happy she hadn’t waited the whole time.

“Mc, how’d you get crumbs all over your face? Hold on,” Luke started wiping all the crumbs off Mc’s face. She looked down to see some on her dress which she started brushing off.

“There. Much better,” Luke smiled at her, taking her hand and leading her into the room.

Mc first saw Simeon looking slightly frustrated until he saw her. Luke lead her over to him, and he leaned over, “I’m so sorry it took so long,” he apologized softly.

“Mc,” the soft voice boomed through the room, “I’m so glad to see you. It’s been too long.”

“Hello Father,” Mc said softly, curtsying, finding it hard to fully meet his eyes.

“I do apologize for talking so long with Simeon. We were discussing something important.”

“That’s alright. I was waiting as patiently as I could.”

“That you were,” God smiled, making Mc swell a bit with pride, “I do need to ask you an important question.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, are you still feeling lonely?”

Really? That question again? “Kind of.”

“Hmmm… Do you feel lonely often?”

Every day. “Sometimes, but Sim and Luke help me feel better!”

“I’m still not convinced it’s a good idea Simeon. If she’s still feeling the absence of his presence, I worry for her memory.”

I can repect that Father, but wouldn’t it be better to know now if there’s going to be a relapse under supervision then if she went herself later on? After all, since the program began, we have become more friendly with them.”

“I agree with Simeon, Father,”Michael interjected, “We both know Simeon would never let any harm come to her.”

“Both of you?… Fine, If anything happens, you must come back straight away.”

“As you wish Father,” Simeon said, bowing, then turning, “Hey, Mc?”

The girl in question, who had been silently trying to figure out if there actually was a ceiling in the room or if it just opened up to the sky snapped her attention to Simeon, “Yes?”

“How would you like to take a family vacation with me and Luke?”

“Where to?”

“The Devildom.”

Mc, cocked her head, “Is that in the human realm?”

“Nope. It’s the realm where demons live.”

“And I get to go with?” Mc asked, bouncing a bit from foot to foot. She knew from listening to the other angels speak that going anywhere outside of the celestial realm was a big deal, especially when it wasn’t to the human realm.

“Yup. Father just gave his permission.”

“Oh. Thank you!” Mc practically shouted, turning towards the imposing figure in front of her.

“Of course, my child. Just, promise me, if you start to feel weird or uncomfortable, anything out of the ordinary, you tell Simeon.”

“I promise!”

“Good. Michael, if you could just show them out and the next group in.”

“Of course, Father,” and with that the long meeting was done, and a new trip to the Devildom started to be planned.

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

“Big brother!!! Look at that!”

“Yes, Mc.”

“Oh, and that!”

“MmmHmm…”

“Luke, Luke, Luke, what’s that?”

“Oww, it’s just a shop. Will you stop pulling my arm like that?”

“You’re the one that told me to hold your hand.”

“Well, yeah. It’s dangerous down here. That doesn’t mean you can dislocate it.”

Mc looked down dejectedly, and Luke immediately softened, “Oh, don’t do that. I’m sorry okay? I’m just not the biggest fan of this place.”

“Huh? But Sim said you guys had a lot of fun here.”

“He may have, but I didn’t. Most of the demons said I was a chihuahua, and even started calling me that. To be fair, I was… vocal… in my dislike of demons, but they should’ve understood I was only a child. Honestly, the only parts I really liked about being down here was baking with Barbados… And giving Beel food sometimes. Oh, and of course getting to know-” Luke cut off abruptly after looking at Mc.

“Getting to know who?”

“Uh, someone. It’s not important right now. What’s important is staying close to me. Demon’s aren’t something to mess with.”

“Okay, Big Brother,” and then after a little bit, “Hey, why don’t we go say hi to your friends?”

“Oh. No. I’m just here to show you around. Barbados is really busy, but you might get to meet him later. Beel might eat you, so we have to stay away from him. Hey, why don’t we go play at that park over there?” Luke, pulled her after him.

Mc shook her head. Simeon had already told her demon’s could be very scary, but they really weren’t as bad as everyone said. He had also explained that Luke still wasn’t a huge fan of demons, though he liked them more then he’d let on. After being in the Devildom a bit, Mc couldn’t believe it all bad. She’d been in very bad places in the human realm, and she could tell when they were bad, even without being told. She could tell bad things had happened down here, but it just all seemed so new but… familiar. Even the absence of the sun didn’t bother her.

“Hey Luke, let’s go-” Mc yelped, some magic narrowly missing her, and exploding as it landed.

“Mc!” Luke yelled, hauling her away as a fight broke out among some nearby demons. The park was fairly crowded, and soon chaos enveloped the two siblings. Somewhere in the chaos, Mc’s small hand slipped out of Luke’s. All she could see were tall legs everywhere, and the occasional tail.

“Big brother! Luke! Where’d you go? Luke!” Mc had the chance to shout, before a particularly thick tail smacked into her and sent her flying through the air. Hoping desperately her wings would choose this moment to show themselves, Mc tried to make herself fly. Unfortunately, that wasn’t in her future and she landed rather roughly on a pile of leaves. Though they broke her fall, she was knocked unconscious.

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

Part Two Link

Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcome!

[stanbillyhargrove]

Ghosts chp 29

T/W: death

A/N: sorry it's taken me so long to post this, but here we go!

Katrina's POV

Darkness. All around me, consuming. Is this all there is?

No, this can't be it. I can hear something.

Sirens.

Murmuring.

Breathing.

I can feel my chest rising and falling.

Fuck.

--

I woke, mind fuzzy, floating high in painkiller clouds. Had a brief thought to laugh and scream and cry about my failure. Didn't because I was lulled back to sleep.

Somewhere else, I could hear Olivia humming gently, lulling me back to sleep.

--

The next time I woke up, I was overcome with the smell of bleach. Too stiff blankets scratched my skin. I wiggled my fingers and toes, testing my control. I couldn't hear Neil, couldn't feel him, but deep down I knew he was still here.

I opened my eyes, squinting under the bright lights at the bare room. There was nobody here waiting, noone sleeping softly in the chair beside my bed. I tried to talk, to call out, but a sharp spike of pain stopped me and I curled into myself with a groan. Laid there for a minute, breathing deeply as I waited for the pain to subside.

"Hey, you're awake,"

I looked over to see Billy poking his head in the door, a cup of coffee steaming in his hand.

I tried to talk again, to ask him what happened, but opening my mouth sent another flash of pain. He hurried over and placed a notebook and pen in my lap.

"You're not gunna be able to talk for a while," he explained.

'What happened?' I scribbled.

"What do you remember?"

'Neil, he tried to stop me. Mirror.'

He looked so weary when he nodded, "you tried to kill yourself...Katrina, I told you we'd find another way.."

'No other way,' I gave him a thin smile.

He reached over, took my hand in his and squeezed gently, "don't give up yet.."

I met his eyes, saw the purple bags there and realized he was as tired as I was. Stressed and broken down like I was.

"Don't give up on me," he murmured, "just give me some more time.."

I squeezed his fingers and nodded. He sighed with relief, shoulders dropping and leaned to kiss my forehead. Sat down in the chair next to my bed, thumb sweeping gently across my hand.

"How do you feel?"

I scribbled messily with my free hand, 'hurts.'

"Yeah, you did a number on yourself. Cut your tongue right in half," his fingers came up and brushed my cheek, across a cotton bandage I hadn't noticed, "got your cheek a bit too. Scared the shit out of me."

'Sorry.'

He smirked, his tongue between his teeth, "I almost asked them to keep your tongue split in two, oral would have been fantastic."

I rolled my eyes and puffed air out my nose, the closest I could get to a laugh.

'Asshole.'

He laughed, proud of himself. I perked at the smell of citrus, eyes flicking to search for her.

"What?" He asked, turning to look around the room and back at me.

'Elle.'

"She's here?"

Billy smiled when I nodded and stood up.

"I'll take a walk...give you a few minutes and come back with a doctor."

I looked up at him, smiling as softly as I could and hoping he understood how grateful I was.

It took a minute after Billy left for Elle to appear, her usual warm smile replaced with a sad, tight lipped one.

"Hi, Katrina" she murmured.

My eyes watered and I stretched out a hand to lace our fingers together. She gripped my hand tight and brushed her fingers over my hair.

"What did you do to yourself?" She asked, "this isn't like you...you're a fighter."

I shrugged, eyes flicking down.

"Has he really broken you?"

I pulled my hand from hers to hold my notebook and write, 'easier to give him what he wants. Or try again. Do it right.'

Elle sighed, "you can't just give up. You have to be strong and fight him."

Tears started to slip down my cheek, 'it's too hard. I'm tired.'

"I know it's hard but you have to fight this bastard, okay? Give Billy some more time...he really loves you, you know?"

I sniffed and nodded slowly.

She cupped my cheek, fingers sweeping through tears, "and I know you love him too. And that's okay, let yourself love him, Katie. Just stop being stupid and tell him."

I returned her smile and pointed at my mouth before writing, 'can't.'

She laughed, "smart ass."

'Love you, Ellie.'

"I love you, Katie."

She bent to kiss my forehead softly before disappearing.

--

Billy brought me back to my apartment after the doctor explained what my healing would entail. A liquid diet and salt water rinses for two weeks, try not to talk until the stitches fall out and come back if an infection sets in. Tylenol and sleep to manage pain. I feel like I could sleep for two weeks straight, so that's easy enough.

Let ourselves into my apartment and saw Steve and Riley standing there.

"You're home!" Riley came over to hug me softly, "how are you feeling? Hungry?"

I pulled back, held up my notebook and wrote, 'little hungry, tired.'

She kept gentle fingers on my arm as she led me to the couch, "here, lie down. We got some groceries for you, I'll make you something."

I sat down on the end of the couch, 'you didn't have to buy me food.'

Riley smiled, eyes crinkling, "well we couldn't leave you with nothing to eat, all your food went bad."

I went to scribble on my notepad, to ask how much I owed them but she stopped my hand.

"We wanted to do it. Lay down, I'll get you some soup."

Billy sat down on the other side of my couch, placed a pillow on his legs and patted it. He waited for me to lie down and get comfortable before covering me with the blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch.

I wrote in the notebook and tapped his leg to get his attention.

'How's Pudge?'

"He's good, big now. I'll bring him over later."

'My plants?'

He smiled down at me, "we tried our best, a couple of them don't look too happy but you can take care of them later, just get some rest."

His warm hand smoothed over my hair and I closed my eyes, letting myself drift to sleep.

--

"Katrina."

I hummed, not wanting to leave the dark. Not yet.

Warm fingers brushed my skin, bringing the smell of the ocean and the feeling of dirt under bare feet to my head.

"Come here."

I opened them slowly, squinting against the light. Saw that I was on a beach and that Olivia was standing at the edge of the water, looking back at me with her fingers resting lightly on my arm.

"Come on," she urged.

I came forward, joining her at the water's edge. She clasped my hand tight in hers, smiling as she looked out into the horizon.

"I used to read about pirates. Nasty men who murdered and stole. Left destruction and blood in the waves behind them."

I looked over at Olivia, at the wistful smile on her face as the wind blew her hair over her shoulder.

"Princes and princesses too. Women being swept away by Prince Charming and living happily ever after. Having all they ever dreamed of and more," she turned to look at me, "I thought I found my Prince Charming in Neil, but now I understand. Prince Charming and Bluebeard are the same man and you don't get a happy ending. Not unless you can love both of them."

I cast my eyes down, biting my lip.

"But you can't, can you?"

"No," I whispered.

"I've seen love die way too many times when it deserved to be alive," she touched her knuckles under my chin, lifting my face to look at her, "I've seen you cry way too many times. You deserve to be alive and in love."

"But, the only way to get rid of him is if I die, Olivia."

She shook her head, "your heart has to stop, long enough for you to break his hold. But, there's a window of time where you can be brought back. Without him."

"Is that it?"

"There's also a chance that breaking his hold will wipe your memory."

"What? Like, I won't remember anything?"

A sad smile curled one side of her lips, "it's a possibility. But he'd be gone...you'd be free."

--

"You sure about this?" Billy asked.

I nodded.

I'd just told him what Olivia had said in my dream. That there was a chance to end this once and for all. I left out the losing my memory part though, he didn't need to worry about that.

"What if we can't bring you back?"

'I'll be free,' I wrote.

He ran a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"I'll talk to Steve and the girls, see if we can make a plan...but I'm not promising anything and you need to heal up first."

'Thank you,' I smiled and reached to squeeze his fingers.

His mouth twitched into a quick smile that withered when he looked away.

-- 3 weeks later

The cabin loomed in the trees, dark and foreboding. Cold and empty still since the last time I was here. I half expected it to be closed up with caution tape. But there was nothing, no sign that anybody missed this cabin or the man that owned it.

There was still a bag full of my clothes thrown on the floor and a pile of bloody bandages beside the bathroom sink. The only evidence of what had happened.

My stitches had come out almost a week ago. Right when I started to feel Neil's presence coming back. When I started to hear whispers and see shadows at the edges of my vision. It was now or never, we decided.

"Hey," Billy murmured, smoothing his hand over my shoulder and squeezing gently, "how ya feeling?"

I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes, "nervous."

He huffed out a laugh at the lisp I developed re learning how to talk. He'd spent days howling with laughter when I first started talking again.

I glared up at him and he squeezed me to his side.

"We won't let anything happen to you. We've got it all figured out."

"There's something else...something I didn't tell you."

He tensed, "what?"

"Olivia...she said there's a chance that if I wake up-"

"When you wake up," Billy interrupted.

"There's a chance that I won't remember anything..."

He was quiet for a moment and then a slow smirk spread over his face.

"I guess that means I'll get to blow your mind all over again...maybe I'll get the courage to tell you a little earlier."

"Tell me what?"

A light blush warmed his cheeks when he turned, dipping his face close to mine.

"Tell you that I love you."

--

"Okay, Katrina. You ready?"

I nodded at Steve, hands sweaty at my sides.

"Let's do this."

He nodded once, face tight, "you've got four minutes until we need to bring you back. Riley, you guys ready?"

I looked over at Riley, Brook, Audrey and Tris. They looked like warriors in all black clothes and matching stoney faces, like they would be the ones fighting off Neil for me.

"Protections are set, ambulance is on the way just in case," Riley said, "as ready as we'll ever be."

Steve blew out a long breath, shaking his hands out, "okay, let's do this. Audrey's going to use her powers to keep you still, just in case Neil tries to take over, okay? Try not to panic."

I felt my body starting to tremble when I nodded and whispered, "okay."

Billy stepped up in front of me, a plastic bag in his hands. He cupped my face and kissed me gently.

"I love you," he murmured.

"I love you."

He slipped the bag over my head, pulling it tight around my neck. I felt Audrey's powers keeping me still, stopping me from thrashing and fighting until the darkness took over.

--

I woke to find myself in Neil's world. The pink bathtub surrounded by lush plants to my right, the giant plush bed to my left. The fire crackled and popped angrily in front of me, flames growing to lick the outside of the fireplace.

"Katrina? What did you do?"

Neil appeared in front of me, eyes brimming with tears.

"What did you do?" He yelled.

"I have to end it, Neil," I murmured.

"You can't do that...you can't do that to me, Katrina. What about us?"

I closed my eyes when his knuckles brushed my cheek and leaned into the soft touch.

"Katrina, please, just wake up," he begged, "we can be happy again...I've been trying to be good, you know that, right?"

I could hear the fire crackling louder when I looked up at him, at his watery eyes and nodded, whispering, "I know.."

"Then we up...I won't control you anymore, I promise...I love you, Katrina. Don't you love me?"

My lip wobbled when I glanced away.

"No."

I felt my words hit him like a knife to the chest, felt the red hot pain settle in my heart.

"No?"

I took a steadying breath and looked back at him. At his sharp, angular face and icy blue eyes, his dark hair falling messily around his eyes.

"I don't love you anymore," I choked.

In a split second, he changed. He stopped crying and any sense of grief left him, replaced with burning rage. Strong hands wrapped around my throat, squeezing as tight as he could. Neil's lip pulled back with a sneer at the sound of me choking. I scratched frantically at his wrists, but he just squeezed harder, muscles shaking from the effort.

Darkness spread in my vision, consuming while my lungs stopped gasping for air and I fell into nothingness.

@alias-b @charmed-asylum @champagnesugamama

[jmcfarlane]

DRONE3

DRONe3

.<0_O> — — µ — <_<)))) DRONe³ And other Poems and writings by James McFarlane Telepath/Necromancer James McFarlane·Friday, May 18, 2018 . Telepath may 2018 Pencil sharp, smoke a dart early morning engines start Crescent moon blue grass tunes frost on the window and my spoon. Dopamine and serotonin, pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life, on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. Train passing dread grasses, Sage burning sky lasting, electric currents flowing now, necromancer up and down, Dopamine and serotonin pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. -Seumas Necromancer May 2018 Floating wearily but in some comfort overhead. Making sheets move on my bed. Conversations in and out, speaking without our mouths. Blue fires light up your darkness please don’t ever find me as heartless I love you always one two three here’s the bass now jam with me Exhale eternally into the mic, angel choirs out on strike. Necromancer up and down, rein / radius across town, soon I will return with thee to this town/life Ville/vie. –Seumas (New Revisions) James McFarlane +Seamus to thee, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code DRONe -Seumas (James) Monday, February 22, 2016 OK thisone’s right off the wall: this is a strangely written and personal poem It’scalled “Siren heart Drone” (meant for a mature audience) A’ hem…. I’m nervous, I don’t freestyle often I wish there was a way to put this near the bottom of my timeline, it’ll be my latest and greatest lyric though, + POSETIVE INDUCTION — The positive attraction to your conductive psyche, is a form in itself existing in me, subjective almost ironically, the circuitry, being both electricity and imaginary cranked up high by your fun chemistry by way of the cerebral. (Which is flattering me) The circuitry with chemistry minus proximity, (causing a reaction deliberately) the electrical frequencies that you received from me were; artsy descriptions in accents I read. Other elements of me manifesting masculinity through my dorky frequency, gave off feedback that, officially; for me heralded the dawn of freed energy. So… metaphysical seed, dropped and sewn that day, (I guess what I am trying to say is): My girl my girl, don’t lie to me, oceans away your eyes can see, my bending sending light like this, in response to; the drone from your white laced lips. For the of lack of your treble and charge of your base, my “methadone”, White Light/White Heat, can take its place, anti-acidic mantra chi, surrounding me, a black dot in space. Divided by the curve encased, the metaphysical takes place. The fact that we’re in touch today, makes sirens blare and drones play, I’ll send this over right away, and then appropriately play, ‘beautiful face’ a newer way, I could elaborate for 3 straight days. Now what follows is what’s next on the fret board of your hex. It’s between, us; a fish out of net. So this will be all they get. ok here goes, ya, this is for the ladies in town I know that sounds weak but I blame the moons energy for you cute young women never being around when I finally spit the rhyme on solid ground, neway this is about you, you and the town where I choose, and choose to settle down instead of just stop swimming and drown, no more worries, no frowns, I’m gunna work it on out, cause I’m bound for the tides, not the sound, yea, ok, you know what I mean, yea k here I go, you ready? You steady? I stole the crown from the underground, I thought it would look nice with your gown, I’m upward bound so, are you down with my verbs and nouns? I don’t freestyle rap but this might as well be,flowin literally right now cause i come down hard with a sound that this new town including your highness have minds to breakdown, so get down breakdown, my chic mystique-psychologique will make you turn around and blush while your current boyfriends drunk on the ground cause he substitutes love with down, he doesn’t have an ear, genetically, to hear your siren sound for which I was born to kinetically harmonize, desensitize and heal your weary eyes. This is the treatment we need now ill even show you how, like a bow that goes up and down, helping us resonate these bloody strings, while the clipper ship sinks…… Sinks with the low tide.c’mon lets head home. The moons making my fire rise. That means soon it will be high tide, the ocean spray it stings my eyes, so let’s go inside, its morning time, look at color in the sky the sun is just about to rise. MY clipper ship’s on seas of rye. Empty bottles of scotch catch her in the eye. I’m not afraid of all those guys, they’re lucky they even have a sty. I’ve seen farms that would make you cry. These pale blue eyes are all but mine. And yours are like that brand of dye, that in our last summer together, we ALL tried, permanent like the purple in my mind’s eye or the in the dimly lit sky the night I officially died, all from a med, instead of one I took 10, benzodiazepines, all I wanted to do was compound the prescribed effect at the right dose they make a nervous wreck feel and appear normal so I took them, now I’m in debt, but only tried this cause u have me in check, ready to knock the crown off my head, make it your golden cauldron instead. You know I’m good with shocking steel and know how to forge blend anneal so this golden crown is probably real, and I assure u from the other room that it’s safe to use took a meal. Only cause it’s my deal I leave out the part about removing toxic alloys by melting steel, adding chemicals from the field and as the method never revealed used those same chemicals, that we all feel, all the time in our head to make tiny slow moving particles to turn make gold out of lead. So neways with confidence I said GO AHEAD! But I couldn’t lie to her, so I yelled from the other room, “u should know, that thing is gold but it use to be lead. She laughed, hesitated, placed the pewter cauldron on the stove instead and put the golden crown on her head. She finally walked down the hall and into her room where I was using dust pan and broom, she didn’t say nething, just got up on her bed which was shrouded with purple threads forgetting her glasses, still she picked up my book and read, I said here ill read aloud for you instead, within a few minutes of reading she started to turn red, the stove was on low so she got herself fed THAN served us both breakfast in bed. SUDDENLY I awake and see that we are parked at the end of a pier in some town in Quebec, I yell out stupidly from my stuper, WERE ON A PIER! She had good laugh about that occurrence on several occasions. but ya I took too many pills and was all sleepy on our road trip, all in all, yet again, I fed my head then lost all my cred, it being an accident, it made me sleep like the dead, that’s when I lost you, or you lost me, literally you looked everywhere and couldn’t find me, conscious or not, id soon figure id been stung by the bee, the most painful thing however, and my only memory was later that night when you were beside me, or was it he that got there before me, ok now I must stop and back up, the cheap words pouring from me, telling the details of this pathetic story it’s pissing me off, like losing the love of your life to a drug, and then officially to drugs plural, like 5 years of fucking up pretty much following this one night, the moment you realized you had lost the one girl, the one you compare every girlfriend you get ultimately fucking that up too, the one. its caused ache in whets left of my drug affected love starved blackened heart and caused my excellent poem to go right off the rails, so I’ll get on topic and ill even do it in rhyme, what inspires me to try to try, it’s the ache in my heart that is its key function now when I think of this girl and am reminded of the moment I lost her. ok here goes, regardless, we were in bed together, and from your sleepy head where your soul lies and you can never die, I heard your memories cry, and as I realized all the days I tried so hard to try but wouldn’t, couldn’t try and now I can’t cry is because I was always too shy in your unfulfilled eyes despite being my inspiration for the last 4 or 5 years of drugs and art with your recent if u can even call it that separation the focus intensifies about u and other girls like the sweet PortugueseIrish girl from the only psych ward I recommend at hotel diu in Kingston where I was actually treated properly (maybe cause it’s a catholic hospital, maybe cause I was so fucked up I appeared catatonic for days till this fox brought me down and romanced me for a month) she’s your competition….who contributed to my psychological cardiomyopathy however, a number of “the ones” but evenbefore that I was fucked up, I was the youngest psychiatric patient in Ontario or something, I learned how to smoke inside a smoking room in the shithole Scarborough grace when I was fifteen, I think I checked myself in hen I was twelve just to get away, that may have been what that asshole head of psychiatry was talking about. I also hit the highest highs, and the most demonic abysses of suicidal advanced psychotic depression, and took more abuse for it from nurses drs and the police, not to mention my family, but I still unconditionally love and am loved by my parents and grandparents, Jesus, I sacrificed my life and goals to save my families souls literally offed myself when I was 16 years old to end the devils elaborate foothold on me the people around the household appliances and machines, the behavior of living things the weather and the temperature of the room depending on my tortured state the only common theme is that others hurt and share it with me and my empathy kind of bounces back like an echo, I express and receive the grief while later, I only know this because when I fall, which I don’t do nemore thanks to medical science, its all about them.. but now this, she cried in her sleep and the only difference about these tears the ones that dried before her, is that the tears were for the two of us,not for being hurt but for me getting hurt and that hurt her, and it came out of her in a subconscious later state, kind of like me, this happened something like five years ago and it never gets old, ok , so here’s how THIS sad story goes; back to you, we were basically sleeping on the ground, I was tied up and bound, mothers little helper’s cheque bounced, I stupidly blame the devil in benzos but as of last Chinese new year I now denounce him, clonazepam is free from sin,(the cure), which I am resistant to so even though in the name of a better life I took 1/16th of an ounce I was still wide awake laying beside you, thinking only to myself about how I fucked up, it wasn’t even my own script at the time like u even need to know this it was a gift from the big Mc the tragically crip former editor in chief of legal manuscript, this bug makes the dj tick, and he made me, (sick) so (to this day I thank god for the count and amount per pill per day,,, throw your troubles away and pray that it was ok to stray from your holy bible, “psychology today”) So I was now bound for the pound, complete and total disgrace all around, from the moment u made that sound I knew our plans were going down that I would leave town, shoot smack and somehow return because YOU specifically gave the instruction to COME BACK! But things got whack I dropped out of school after taking philosophy which I passed, took drugs then relaxed let the nothing drone blare and move towards and away from the past managed to stay out of the psycho shack and somehow followed the chemical and psychological path out of the woods, fuck that was one long sidetrack, but it’s over, now, it took a year of wandering to end it but I did so…back before I initially left town your eye lids were down. I’d spent our whole friendship collectively letting you down by being ur favorite one in town and not responding in a way that could let us…. Fuck I was a clown,ever since I pulled a sigmen froid and used white to get off opiates it’s been renown but like the psychologist before me once declared, down (heroin) so satisfying in the right dose, has basically fulfilled their open ended prediction for the drugs future, in one shot like vaccine, the queen of all drugs, administered in the highest healthy dosage intravenously is the cure all found in Montreal, and then a deliberate clean cut from all non prescribed recreational narcotics, that is until the dreaded lady in white shows up on ur doorstep, I say let her in, and move away never to see her again, with the experience and satisfaction of the act of consuming heroin as your catalyst to change your life and only take clonazepam. So before all that we had a healthy friendship, it was doomed but I loved you so u kept me around and there was all sorts of ways we got down without ever fooling around except this time I discreetly describe further down when my phone ran out of batteries while you went to town , I thought I was a fuckin martyr because all id make u do is dance, that’s the gods truth so baaaack to me not being a creep, I geometrically see the opposing symmetrical verticy of our rhombus reveal its true ego as FUCKING TRAPAZOID when I hear your inner pain, I’m no hypnotist (yet) but u were zonked after a day of mosh pitting ultimately falling for the other guy, while I slept in the grass like an ASS. you let out a whimper in your sleep and two out of three of us knew, this chick is deep, from then on I took the title of weak, I had let my biological ancestors down with swords in their hands and in my hand your crown, and still I let you down, AND YOU STILL even tried several sexy and awkward times to make it happen and I let you down, u can tell a social disease when the same set of words are used multiple times to rhyme with other words that have that sound i.e. : I let you down. In that strange little town. It’s been well over a year and to end on a harmonious note after all this purple melancholy. I’m gunna say two words to you and they are not” “I do” It’sI’m sorry. I’m sorry lately for this poem, but mostly I’m sorry for not maturing into the man you thought I could be. I’m recovered from my early episodes now, took 16 years but I used the gear to properly hear and respond without fear, if only I did this within the time frame we had, Now were both sad. And I don’t wanna upset u, ur glowie or ur boyfriend or neone else, soo I’m gunna play a song, it’s called : one thing that keeps this black heart beating””(referring to my heart: that “upturned bass drum” The thing that keeps it beating is the dissonant and strangely beautiful siren song that echoes in my mind as the inspiration, “love” and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophies with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the momentmy phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche, at this moment I can prove using circumstantial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indecisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and physical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living things on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not necessarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings crescendos babies,, are when the energy isn’t circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, and the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, imparts her secret harbored denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, whether the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivotal form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense, my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misinterpreted until the last few seconds before the line went dead the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, literally loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symmetrically and quite similarly to your perfect face and body only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me, from the beach into the city, while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella, drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I stop, wait my energies charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged abilities that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit can’t explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery, the almost dead battery, poetic license and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, I’ve always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know threes more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours, in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, they knock me out, blow to the head, I’ll miss away you time instead, that lilliad inside your mind….it’s way too late you’re so unkind, but one important thing u need, to know I know u love to read, do not read too much to your seed, it makes a flower yer indeed, with pain killing power guaranteed, but this makes a subconscious need to find a source for output feed, destined to be completely freed ad finally have the urge to read, its therapy apparently, the experiment of reading aloud and they drift off on angels clouds, you think their gunna make you proud, well brace yourself, speakers are loud, they developed and were well endowed, language and its mystic power it not to be strewn on the flowers, this is my dependant variable, the words the use on me were terrible, a bird a seed knowledge unbearable, though every word is understandable, hypnotic methods subconscious dependable, lovely developmental psychology is the cause of my constant source of energy what I was born to do was reap, infinite knowledge in my sleep a steady drone of literature, I’m older now administer reality and life in place of shame rejection and disgrace, aside from my abilities that serve me independently, instinct survival evolution, speed all factors meant to help me breed, but would you read that to your seed, your surly growing potent weed, I’m not a normal human being I spend time speaking hearing seeing, proving while your disagreeing now the sheep are all fleeing, my purpose hear is slowly weaning I’m a negative source of positive energy, that means nothing drones glowies and friends that are enemies, all that I needs a path and an receiver, a sound to ride on, subwoofer and tweeters, it’s the music u shared with me that keeps me going The proof that our signal reached desired objectives, was clear to my ear which contained an elective, my minds using psychology to be less selective, behavioral science removes the block painlessly love, loss and malpractice grew my circuitry aimlessly, evolving survival instincts team with nature, my chemical background makes life like a phase, the instincts resulting are acute like a razor and amplified abilities through manipulating manipulative chemicals without wavers, resulting in behavior that can reach and amaze her… the extent of the damage is to be overlooked, by using knowledge and memory or reading a book design and time weren’t key features its transference of whines from student to teacher, let me out of detention you feminine creature ill read aloud it’s the right way to reach her, the demand and supply was shot at the sky and with lasers for eyes that reflect off her kind I was surprised to find that in no time I heard her wine, go out of her mind, and through her elective design I read junkie sublime and the fidelity was just fine for my desensitized mind. Literally proving her love up against my undying lazerlove therefore, proving that from that moment in time It was (now literally) one(the one) and another(me) falling “in love “officially identified by the subjective and objective forms that equal true love, for a time, which in rhyme and time I now feel it was divine, it’s began and ended in one harmonious line (in a Scottish accent no less) and buried in our minds getting weaker over time the signal is dying the whine and her trying has kept me flying farther away for lack of a sign that she was officially mine, but my nose it did grind on the stone learning life through the drone all on my own stealing crowns off of thrones, almost completely destroying my home, getting dipped in chrome, and then ground to the bone,, but that’s ok now because I how I know, I made her come through a phone, I’ve reaped what id sewn, now I am grown, with skills to hone no more wearing a cone, from the unknown to the known heralded by the morningdrone which is an inaudible tone interacting metaphysical rods and cones in my everlasting home among milestones made of greymatter behind bone in the form of the intangible moan that has royalties owned by the one xylophone a tone so foreign and feminine it may be that of a banshee or crone, the soil of my subconscious, is where I’ve been instructed and shown but my chance was blown there already something growin that knows the suns light is shown, now I’m alone, why did I buy that bus ticket when I could have flown. Another way of iterating this love story is an s follows introduction, obstruction instruction, induction, seduction production reduction destruction I’m trying to link two portions of this production, causing a reaction like a light turning on send notification from yin to yang (2 great friends of the opposite sex ultimately consummating their union in the way nature wanted it to be) but for us it was highly evolved in that even over the lo-fi filter of cell phones she was sending her love, whether she got off or not that id like ton know, but,, I got the drone of her during, (which if I’m not wrong is typically the main attraction for most women, their anatomy makes for a better “during” in her case conveniently, I’ll admit, without my flawed physical presence, I’m sure she didn’t just give up when my phone ran out of batteries, she was by the banks of her own lagoon, , the stimuli for me, the understanding an witnessing this correlative reaction, correlative because based on all the evidence, the great friendship which was WE were In Love,,,, that passes by my standard and I’m a philosophy grad, this Idea of me and this one girl being in love ISNT EVEN PRAGMATIC like most of my theories, the ONLY thing that get in the way of it being classified as nething between us other than, well I’m afraid to word it frankly because it makes y philosophy look dumb, the only factor threatening this TRUTH, this explainable objective form, is.. the time frame, the setting and the timing of the whole ordeal, my argument is that my reserved intense devotion that was pretty much spellbound, was appropriately (although delicately and let’s say modernly)relieved back to square one, literally and true even though it’s in the days ahead, metaphysic means dead.\\ I’m pretty lonely, so I make allot of art these days, like so; since she left me for dead and we both had left town, with thoughts of her crying asleep on the ground, my mind plays a drone, just to keep the pain down, it’s the girls very essence, oh to hear those pipes sound, if I was there this reel could have burned her house down, But our minds were both trying, Scottish lyrics I had, her bagpipes were sighing, and droning like mad, even though I was dying to get under her plaid, her fingers were flying and the lyrics were “rad the sound of her drones blared through the aero phones, I had broken a string and the bow had no rozen, but her body remembered what she had forgotten, string breaking caused her heat up and harden, this dissonant silence was her chance to depart from his flaws and his jigs and his odds and his rigs and ivy wrapped wand honey drippin upon this Venus in tartan who gushed forth the art of his masculine heart, the yin joins the yang and d string goes twang, The key that she played in was the string that I broke;I awoke in a doria mile off the coast. I swear by the sword of Ulysses and QueenMary’s crown you can’t quiet this siren when she fools around. Sending me to the moon and abyss on her sound It’s siren heart drone and that’s written in stone like I said, STELLAR, and you can TELLHER, most likely shell be a be a BETTER SPELLER, most likely ull say THE WORST THING EVER cause you’re a BULLSHIT SELLER, wave got mutual friends that FLOCK TOGETHER, social cannibals up shit creek FOREVER “sharp fanged teeth sheep” identified by Brethr in touch with friends of mine with FEATHERS, who govern karma AND THE WEATHER harmonizing OUR ENDEVOUR dissonance and TAKING PLEASURE in currents charged “+”, sea vessel PROPELLERS droning on for OH SWEET NEVER, nothing “like” inevitably BETTER the next “day, mon” frère, myself sharply dressed, a new pair of ‘GO GETTERS’ high, but fly, “the local YELLER” inscribes, as I dictate the true, (and prescribed), (in “”blood)-”LETER”! …BUY LETTER!”technique””’s psychology thesis of persuasion,-through love cure for; pain from shame stemming from taking the blame for the psychopaths that are perfectly sane who corporally, “embodying hells flames, wicked games to derange, the use of tools to cause pain, so the hands free to gain more control without shame ….and words that confuse and lead them in. vein cutting through lies and psychosomatic pain” making it rain your blood to put out the flames, an empty vessel that openly claims he righteously bears the right to OFFSET karma in his favorite time double negatives stuck on rewind with the fist or the tool of thing without mind, just current flowing into itself sustaining itself by shackling you with a voice that speaks truths that the vessel and devil greedily use to ultimately abduct you consume love your subconscious would refuse to give, to lose, so you wind kicking yourself while he rips on your soul defacing and displacing what’s left of you, what set you apart from a caved in shoe who’s uneven because the others got two, souls are unbreakable but if he breaks you, ill have the words the voice and the truth, the vessel in which to put soul into you, love and affection reflecting on you a new pair of shoes and so basically you feeling loved and in good mood no longer producing that parasite food, by walking and talking, souls in your shoes, while my bare feet support prescribed truth, a chemical network of mes and you ultimately held together with glue your love is the only way I can get through my psychological problems of which I have used to heat cook and serve us both food they drive me to supplementing love with miscues, attempts to draw a good picture of shoes, that drawn the attention of someone like you, or someone who offers a love I can’t refuse, because it me who also has many a bruise, the glue the chemical I trust and I use are prescribed and administered with bruit force and tools, leaving the chemically gifted unloved and unused and undone on the run with the songs you have sung, giving u satisfaction, and leaving u hung out to dry by the sick and the dumb, and the one, that u can give a gift to, is the only way we can say I love you and the fact that we are is what makes it true now I can scrape this shit right off your shoe, here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singing the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones too, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code,I’ll let the field talke care I m old, its time to end thiflodi broke the mouldand me with my everything about the shoe, its maker your sou out your soul leaving with bound by psychosocial with day moon SETTERS. home made psychopath GET ER, and lose her to a knitted SWEATER meant to the and if shit hits the fan in my house you become a fuckin CAVE DWELLER you officially for me heralded the dawn of freed energy so metaphysical seed dropped and sewn that day I guess what I a tying to say is seroquel can kill the day and lithium when charged can phase can kill your kidney and your craze over sirens who’ve been underground their perfect face and al around static in the air and sound of talismans and something foud induction tells you write this down what she conducts may flood the town, and this guythatts on the other line isn’t he a project of mine, sais nurse so cute and fine that flirt with my bipolar mind could his stimuli be cut, (if my nurse heard that shed bust my nut the think I’m guna get more worse nuclear winters parallel universe but bipolar ppls irony ill crack the joke an ice your nuclear explosion twice a day while I’m away leading weak dicks astray but giving your negative drones away the moans that I’m familiar with the point is I’m sick, was born with antennae metaphic that can even change channels like sappic girl on girl to girl on me altering duality and that what I get for free cable metaphysically so u better charge your battery, start the car pray she needs a guy with speed, instead of the duality of loving and love being received define love for me because lm low on batteries, finally the irony iron like steel I’m not even funny she gave me a drone that carried me home plate metal armor still that suckers dethroned all because of the ironic poem guaranteed to call my home circuitry and sacred tones, hooked up to my broke dying alone charge that she hears in my voice instinct are what’s the driving force to be my Venus in furs of course striking my eardrums while art of a new form could cure my heart, when deprivation and avant-garde combine to make things into art the the thing that makes drones stop and start my wordsandfingers take a form that independently grows horns, what an art to harmonize your frequencies with, smart, you dirty little butter tart you were supposed to cure my heart at least u got it throughtome you rising storm makes my anteenae start to channel lo-fi forms a and v imnow starting to clearly see I got to hear pure femininity express its love physically, while the ironic truth is easy to see, that my talisman masxulinity had no hand in physically and so my strengths like mediocrity, thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculine frequency that was enough to ride that came through the airwaves only a dined, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjectively means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite ur reaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely ur still a part of me, like the wasted energy of a missing battery that from within bears a charge, that was meant to be, the high voltage current, of hot energy. wat a grT TRIP THIS IS, ALTHOUGH ONG AND UNCOMFORTABLE AT LES I STILL HAVE ROCK AND ROLL AND BY DIVINE TIMING WE TOO A STROLL ADNTALKED A LITTLE THATS MY GOAL AND NOTHING DRONES AND HEAVY STONES WERE LEVITATED WITH THE MOAN OF SIRENSS BUT YOUR NOT A PHONE AND NO SUPRIZE CANT LEAVE ALONE OW I THRIV OFF DIAL TONED CAUSE IM DEPENDANT ON YOU STONE THE TALISMAN YOU CALL MY HHOME AND THAT TIE YOU CALLED ME ON THE PHON YOU WERE IN MY HEAD SAFE IN YOUR HOME BAD TIMING AND A HEAVY TONE BATTERIES DEAD: NOW WERE NOTHING DRONES…………………………………………………………….. thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculin frequency that was enough toride that came through the airwaves only a denied, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjective by means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite urreaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely Seroquel can ‘kill. The day’, and lithium (when charged) can phase, can kill your kidneys and your ‘“crazy” laser ray’s perspective.’ Meant for sirens, waves, underground stalactites, space, and drops of acid rain onto your base. Meant to cauterize with time and phase the straight; your sex, the Vikings take, and that edge they use to reap and waste. ((their secret way through; to slice through the glazed over passageway, that freezes waves of blood they made. Turned to crimson ice seen by my red hot rays, melt into salty ocean sprays) Then not so far away at night I kill the day and reap twilight, my heat turns from red to white like scars that weep acid rain despite my efforts, however insane, you do this over and over again) Relief; from emotional THEN/BY physical pain. In that order, we’re both deranged. here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singin the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’m tired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code, It’s meant for: a couple; of different: ppl 1 knø james ((pérsunµli); ‘(urThInKn èù¹d “Like¹¹ i+ Th0µGh))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ) — ¹o-² øس=FOUR!!!!!!!!²O_O³⁴!! (0_0)T0o?O_o)❤µ¼FOR¼ldd.”( þ+¹na!’(LOL!)?,X&Y” =ø(þ iN þÉd àvèç¹<>³µ)/(µø+þ²)ùþ³@ — ¹²³¹²³¹²³¹²³ James McFarlane• Ideas About mental Illness — James McFarlane Here’s my theory on paranoia. (Usually considered a negative symptom of psychosis) It can help gather information or misinform those who experience it. Even in wellness it is always potentially present in all of us. It’s a survival instinct. It makes us more attentive. My unique experience and understanding is when paranoia and other symptoms are present, heightened and amplified alertness to important information perceived by the senses is collected and whatever data is missing the brain either fills it in with logical thought or logical hallucination in some cases. I will further iterate this several ways for you to better grasp it. For most people there is so much excess data you wind up believing a falsity. Simple logic should let you know best which is most accurate among the extra data collected by suspicion, inner thoughts and hallucination ultimately fitting like Lego into the fractured “factual” data perceived. I believe mostly it is our internal sense of logic that is used to make hallucinations like dreams that appear similar to our regular reality. It is your sense of logic that determines how accurate the thought or hallucination might be compared to reality. It is hard to determine between reality and hallucination because hallucination adheres to reality. But if you can detect like in a lucid dream (aware of being in a dream) that it’s a hallucination you’re ok. It’s not that difficult to determine what thought or hallucination fits if you’re experiencing (or expecting) allot of symptoms having an automatic thought process that simplifies things by showing the most accurate possibility alone to the individual by involuntary thoughts and possibly hallucination. This can be a more accurate depiction of what’s not reachable by the actual senses. The point or idea is that hallucinations and involuntary thoughts mimic reality as best they can, so, they can be used to determine what is beyond our senses reach either corresponding with the senses themselves (hallucination) or through mind talk (which is the method that most mimics what we call telepathy and is much more controlled and has less effect on your behaviour and environment than hallucination). This mind talk or “intrusive thoughts” can be our sense of logic. It’s our sense of what’s real that makes up our involuntary thoughts and hallucinations so they’re may be an ounce or two of truth in them even though they aren’t real they can be identical ideas to what is really there. This is to be used for those who can’t see or hear what are out of reach of their senses like sonar or radar and further aid those who have and impairment or just want to experiment with extending their senses. This only applies to the unwell. Like I have said amphetamine could mimic the hypomanic state in regular people perhaps. This could be a tool for treating a range of mental disorders. Depression, lack of communication in certain critical mental conditions.(Alzheimer’s etc.) It’s not just guessing at involuntary thoughts and hallucinations, the tool combines accurate and distorted data collected by the senses. This extends the senses that help us try to understand. (Only some of us may have this as a mental pattern). You may be calling this a delusion well I call a delusion an idea. And remember, an idea can make the body including the brain do interesting things. Mono ideo dynamics Determining what’s real and what’s not isn’t a problem here, you know what’s a thought and an actual sound or hallucination when this is occurring so if they combine to make a more accurate awareness with good results than it doesn’t matter whether it’ telepathy or a mental tool isolated to the mind its generating data for the individual I assure you. Collecting data even from other people’s minds is definitely a factor in this theory (it’s a tangent but it’s important.) Involuntary thought is inner thought that appears to be info coming from an obvious source or other person. This is when the argument for delusion is most appropriate. Telepathy is a possible conclusion in the case of mind chatter or involuntary or external thoughts unlike ‘sense extension’ which is a potential tool involving similar aspects but also the actual environment. The mind to mind thing doesn’t involve physical reality like the sense extension theory which involves hearing and assuming all five senses if you were sick enough could improve the perception of our environment by way of hallucination corresponding with the senses, verses logical lingual additions to your line of thought (involuntary thoughts) which can be thought alone (mind talk) This opens a window to hybrid hearing combining involuntary thought with semi audible data, this was my first discovery and personal experience along the line of useful mental activity. So I would call it all external or involuntary mental data. The reason I included the telepathy as idea in this was because sense extension which may be provable is using the same material our thoughts are made of suggesting that the other ideas are worth experimenting with. I suggest mental information can be projected into the metaphysical reality affectively by a person just like shouting a person’s name. This is blatantly how it works from my perspective. What we imagine goes out into the air and some of us are there to hear it within our thoughts; mind chatter. Talking to yourself in your head as well as other transmissions or incoming additions. Not something we do all the time. Some people rarely do it or experience it. These are introspective expressions nevertheless they are the fabric of what sense extension involves. So if sense extension, (because it uses the senses, reality and hallucination/involuntary thought) can be tested and valuable info is collected from those tests, because of its use of involuntary thoughts which mimics telepathy, it could help prove or add merit to the idea of telepathy and its other explanations that are as follows. Proving telepathy involves seeing how things like sense extension is in the same weave as actual things we use or experience like thought, mental chatter, hallucination, dreams. This part of the universe is becoming objective when using a hybrid or functional form to better understand our surroundings. Just believing in these functions and experiencing them improves your regular perception and observational skills. These are hybrid metaphysical tools for perceiving your surroundings by use of hallucination and or thought and actual fractured data picked up by the senses. I tackle this mind chatter idea more so because it’s a solid symptom that doesn’t fail, like hallucination often does. Thoughts in the form of language coming from people around you or your multipersonalitied conscience is a good thing as long as it’s a good thing. When it no longer is in the range of being able to be used as a tool, these thoughts can be turned off or turned on by meds and belief or disbelief in the idea. But when it’s happening properly, like in hypomania, it does act as an aid in awareness of what’s most likely going on in other people’s thoughts. It informs you of the most likely thought usually in relation to you, aiding you every time by making you aware of something you didn’t know before. Word for word telepathy is a miracle, mental chatter that informs you of what’s most accurately going on in other people’s heads by way of involuntary lingual statements in the mind is not. It’s worth investigating, it’s a gift that has never led me to harm, only understanding. The fact that it’s in your head makes it a passive process where you have the option of responding or not, verbally or mentally if you’re a believer in telepathy. You can have communications, often in the form of mental lingual impressions from people around you, as long as their chattering in their heads. More often they respond verbally or through body language. (This could be also called a thought related delusion, and it probably is) Like sense extension it helps figure out without effort what’s most likely going on somewhere else but this involves getting a mental impression of what’s going on in someone else’s head and apparently only if It’s about you or directed to you, mostly. Telepathy and sense extension go hand in hand. What’s real and usable and what’s a symptom may need to be looked over and not just thrown in the isolation chamber. Mind chatter and thought insertion are two different things I think. Thought insertion means you think someone or something else is in your head and it is overwhelming. Mind chatter or “telepathy” follows a pattern of logic that is more precise than your own usually, it follows a rule, I am certain of it. That’s why it’s better to use cause it’s your intuition delivered lingualy. Thought insertion is like having someone else in control, whereas mind chatter is somewhat under control and mostly in your control as you are the experienced one. Involuntary thoughts (other people’s voices) could be telepathy and if it follows such a dynamic and structured law it should not be called thought insertion. Sense extension is something more practical and objective than telepathy type thinking, but it is untested and like I said, I deal with mind talk even when I am well and it is always accurate and helpful. The idea of partly using data from the peripheries of our trusted senses shows that these elements are not to be underrated or mislabelled. The fact that we can only see farther stars in the sky by looking off to the side is a great example of use of the peripheries of our senses. Similar is my experience of seeing peoples more true emotions on their faces when using peripheral vision. Is esp or just one example of a passive and informative hallucination? Let us not throw aside my interpretation of the experience of useful and unique mental activity by giving it the unattractive label of thought insertion when the fundamentals of these ideas may be useful for inventing evolution like tools to reach out into parts of the universe we have not yet studied. Distorted senses combined with an inherent logical thought process that is accurate if not pragmatic I my experience in every case. This could be an opportunity to reopen the study of parapsychology. (The fact that these are just an accurate perception mechanism is good enough). To reveal this delusion, we’ll assume all this is still only going on in one’s active imagination. However using a pattern of brain activity that mimics telepathy as a tool to read his/her environment better is cool; the only difference this has to sense extension is that there is no real life data involved. This in my opinion makes it the most commonly used and confronted with, solid, and most effective tool I deal with. (even when well) There are practices like muscle reading which is getting data through seeing a person’s movement that are examples of a semi proven method that mimic things like telepathy. I propose mental activities that are involuntary and positive like some of the symptoms of a mental illness, could be used as a link between what we see as dysfunctional mental activity and a breakthrough into the endeavour to prove that thoughts are part of our dynamic world as a form and can be used as a medical or social tool. This mental activity in serious cases of unwellness can alter the way we operate, not just the way we think. Paranoia could take over and it could be false data, and the repercussions could crescendo. In their reality and in reality itself. I say listening to your thoughts (whatever form they take) and interpreting them, it’s safer than experimenting with hallucination because mind chatter can be a factor in hypomania and in wellness. Only in the case of hallucination being used in a controlled environment with positive energy being present, for instance with a schizophrenic, they can be very well while hallucinations are still present. If in that state the hallucination tends follow what the senses are trying to perceive and use a situation like the sense extension experiment involving hallucination and obstructed hearing it may prove to be a good tool/idea possibly for aiding the hearing impaired in this situation or a similar situation that works. It could work because it could fill in more data where it was lacking and it may inherently be attempting to be accurate. This attempt is evident in other mental processes mentioned here. In the case of experimenting with this type of thing never should you be depressed manic, psychotic or over whelmed with psychological issues. If you are in an unwell state seek help, but be open to the new ideas that may present themselves to you. Know that the brain is elastic and does heal. The hippocampus and you are always growing. If it’s suggesting that its telepathy aiding us and guiding us that makes you sceptical I’m not going to just drop it. Be pragmatic and get a bit more insight into how it worked for me. First off, all that makes it telepathy as I’ve said is that it only involves thought. One thing that suggests that it is a thought from another source is the amount of unusable but accurate information that comes along with these seemingly incoming transmissions. It behaves like a mental environment that doesn’t involve just you; the metaphysical plain. You mostly hear in your thoughts what applies to you from those around you but there is other mental exclamations at times coming from different sources for different destinations, or in most cases mental exclamations just for themselves. Also getting an involuntary thought of apparently what is being said somewhere completely out of reach of the senses is a factor here. This is bigger than the structure of telepathy. If you are being talked about in the other room the brain informs you of it and who is saying it, this is clearly a survival instinct to gain intelligence of what may be out there and what most likely is, this type of sense may be evidently seen and utilized more by animals than humans. Probably because of the invention of language, putting the sense in recession. These ideas suggest that the metephysical plain is not just in my head but is there for everybody (and that privacy may be an issue.) The experienced and well user of the mental functions could actually receive and send out positive and effective transmissions with a ripple effect, real or not. (for what it’s worth, even to gain confidence and boost chemicals, respond and react accordingly to these transmissions and you’ll find it fits and improves your presence and role in the situation, that’s my experience) while the sick are just spiralling and not even communicating because their usually using negative or confusing behaviour or energy. What’s also evident of its existence is the obviousness the transmissions go both ways. I’m not just getting your impression of me in my thoughts; it’s obvious you’re getting mine. Its conjoint mental activity. It involves everyone but I think it requires a guide. If these are just symptoms, they rarely intensify and do dissipate more or less with wellness. I say if it’s not the metaphysical plain it’s at least explained by two minds appearing to correspond by (often coincidentally) one playing out the others activity as accurately as it can within the mind. This as a law would be evident enough to prove telepathy. I see a constant pattern in when the transmitters communicate, that they are thinking that thought and responding to one another (seen though body language and verbal responses. That’s telepathy like activity rationalised. It’s not always word for word because often I ask and they say no I did not think those words. Apparently it’s a mental impression of yourself delivered in the form of verbal thoughts or inaudible expressions from other people in the vicinity or elsewhere. Finally the hybrid hearing idea.The most effective and safe of the ideas here. (Thought and hearing mixed) It would be hard to disprove because of a lack of qualified candidates and the scenarios required. The hybrid hearing idea like I’ve said is not activity isolated only to thought, but the idea that involves using factual data and the imaginary simultaneously. Sense extension without hallucination. Deciphering between actual sense and involuntary thought is easy, you know what you hear and what you think, they become conjoint in some mental states indicating that the possibility of an extension “fill in the blacks” scenario. Know that this involves either an overactive imagination. The logical involuntary lingual thought mental activity combined with the brains attempt to hear the less audible is a marriage that could create the extension of the impaired or out of reach sense (hearing in this case) What I propose is happening here may be hearing the bass of a conversation because bass carries farther, and your mind places the other frequencies (treble) in the form of an involuntary imaginary sound. I suggest this is too intricate and accurate to be delusion. To actually be aware of the volume according to the distance or nature of the info that comes from not the unknown but an obvious source is evident of that intricacy. The psychotic skills talked about here are among the skills we’re all born with. All humans are capable of psychosis. Which is the foundation of these things. I just find mania to be safe, similar and more of an advantage. Our brains and beings all have an inner need and desire to figure out what is reality. Even when that reality is obstructed, it uses other means to get around to perceiving the world correctly. This line of thought has the potential to be a step forward in changing others view of these symptoms. To suggest that they are meant to be enhance to our advantage, not abolished; this is the stuff of change at an evolutionary level because as I said earlier it does involve everybody and anybody. The Chemically Endowed / THE HEALTH SYSTEM James McFarlane June 1st, 2016 Mania is the increasing of one’s “reward” chemicals in the brain chronically (a symptom of Bipolar). A fact about mania is that it is not so often as out of control as we are tempted to assume. We don’t know the limits it can push positive wise. A negative aspect is surely something that we have seen occasionally. An example could be a world leader like Alexander the great. On the positive side of it are people like Van Gough and many other artists, teachers and authors. Making tireless efforts at just causes inspired by epiphany is just one of the activities a bipolar individual has the option of pursuing. (Sometimes with phenomenal results) This can be a positive activity of the broad ranged individual. Mania is an abundant source of potential positive energy. The mythical Greek god Dionysus has been called the god of mania. He partied allot and was the estranged son of Zeus. There were cults formed in his honor and the remanence of them still exist today as a common and highly manipulated, manipulative tradition known as the entertainment industry. Antianxietys, antidepressants, antipsychotics and mood stabilizers; drugs that (have attributes that researchers have neglected to even identify) help and plague the bipolar individual as the most commonly used tool to ward off symptoms. In some cases, recreational drugs like amphetamine ((that seem to force up the mood of an individual) among drugs that are normally oriented with unwellness)) I suggest, could be a surprising aid in speeding up the recovery process of depression (the opposing symptom in bipolar to mania which have psychosis as a common theme at the peripheries of both poles of experience) through cognitive stimulation. This is important because antidepressants take several weeks to take effect and suicide could be prevented by the induction of a more open approach to medical uses of recreational drugs. This activity should be combined with social interaction in the case of recovery because it surrounds the recovery of the social aspects of the self (I do not recommend this as the first option for a recovery process). Like most drugs this behavior may take years off the recovery process but could wind up taking years off your life. If closely watched and tested the medicinal benefits of illegal or unreaserched drugs as well as further data released on drugs in general and their common circumstances may be a great stride in the remedy of mental, psychological conditions and social misconceptions which solutions are still being put off by ignorance of the populous and adverse political agendas. Other treatment options not listed above include electroshock therapy and psychical exercises like cognitive behavioural therapy. These alternatives are used less most likely because pharmaceuticals are a huge part of controlling the populous and funding corporations and government. However, a regimented combination of any of these factors could be a breakthrough for some. Called “consumers” by people that work in the pharmaceutical industry, these human beings endowed with seemingly new chemicular behaviors have a heavy cross to bear. I believe that it is obviously possible that over half the population (just to be fair) are born chemically inclined, but forced under the heel of the majority of the others who are from my perspective, psychologically twisted by ignorance, power over the sick, and unjustified behaviour based (((most likely (just to be fair) for some, subconsciously))) on either inherent or just blatant jealousy. I say this because the majority of people in a position of dominance in our society, (security guards, nurses, the police, doctors what have you) are brutally unfair, unprofessional, and ignorant in most cases. This attitude fuels the biggest and oldest and crudest intolerance ever committed by one group against its own people. The mentally endowed verses the psychologically twisted and everyone in between or strung along is the latest and oldest injustice I can see other than the genocide of the shamanistic cultures of north and south America. The most obviously funded sick lack of justice and care for their own counterpart (ever challenged till present day) by a government is currently at hand. It’s a matter of time and interest among corporations. Their need for money will guarantee that the proper drugs will be the end of this problem. Their survival as a business is the only co-dependent factor for the cause. Once the sick become well, ((the inevitable outcome (already achieved)) the drugs will be reinvented a few times ultimately plateauing as a renewable idea by these scientific salesman and their evil subordinates running the place like some kind of sick joke to themselves. Those who wield tools and permission to inflict pain, bondage and any form of abuse they find delectable simply to put off paperwork (and sooth their own often nocturnal boredom) only assigned to be used in the inevitable malpractice suits soon to be ensued by the just with the just against the corrupt. With blunt force and jealousy against their only threat and reliable witness to the sick twisted 24 hour a day fetish of legally and illegally taking the rights and freedoms and everything that makes life desirable from the ill to make way for a prolonged treatment of abuse and betrayal from the psychologically bent nurses and security guards, doctors, police not to forget your everyday sociopath / psychopath walking the streets and perverting the direction and attention of the staff and patients of mental health wings across the country (Canada). Folks like these who lack the basic right and wrong skills, used obviously and openly by the sick and the meek to inevitably over throw the ranks of sociopaths and psychopaths governing, misusing and perverting the writing of history. All of their efforts put into this “note taking” endeavour to be rewarded with indulgence into the sick pleasures of a dysfunctional beauracracy and political disgrace to be. As for the sick, (and well) the neglect of one’s health and deterioration of relationships is often inevitable during episodes and when being forced against such characters mentioned above. These new victims often leaving the institution with their own newly afflicted psychological scars. This is understandable considering how different and under informed the external world and the unbalanced individual usually are. The unwell individual tends to get overwhelmed with heightened and distorted perception, and the outside worlds clashes with their reality. Inevitably against their will, (usually after lots of experience) and sadly, many forms of legalized abuse from the system that seems to be above all law, they become accustomed to the system and more knowledgeable about medication. This is the only way I’ve seen someone become well, for longer. It’s important to channel the knowledge from their experience into productive endeavours. This is the exceptional goal. Chemicals are a big part of the inclined individual’s life (Pharmaceutical, natural and usually recreational). Often enough a well-balanced person emerges but the fight against unwellness and addiction is ongoing for many. Even once well, the psychological challenges of adjusting to life can set in. Thankfully this is also treatable either with anxiety medicine or therapy (or in the case of the Canadian health system, prolonged and tormenting hospital stays crudely striped with prolonged bondage and isolation chambers. Psychology being the completely unfunded and rightful alternative. Wellness comes with time and knowledge as well as trial and error. The potential experience for these individuals is more than the average prescription. Logically and philosophically looking at these problems is key to understanding them. Stigma; it’s a thing like racism that is rampant in every culture today but especially in western culture apparently. A mild example of stigma is using a negative label or misconception such as “split personality” or “psycho”. These are words attached to now folklore, lies and misunderstanding so this ignorance is apparently the first thing to go. In the case of bipolars, it is often amplified social ability versus depression or other emotional states that is confused with complete loss of judgement. Schizophrenics seem to have an even keel in terms of personality in most cases. I know there is no mood disorder but full on hallucinations. This could be due to an unexplained increased constant source of dopamine in their system I suggest gets used to produce complex distractions that could be used to their own advantage, like poetry etc.. (Unproven connection) The biggest problem is the assumption our government and citizens have; that the mentally ill are violent. This ultimately subjects us to being treated like escaped zoo animals by every authority figure you can think of. This is how they legally get us into straps; the word violent. This word can be used in ways it shouldn’t which is often the case. Once declared violent and mentally ill you’re bound for a living hell most likely for quite some time. All the ugly side effects of the system itself leave you psychologically damaged. You get a fate worse than prison by far, especially if you’re rebellious. I have rarely if ever have seen an act of violence towards another from a person that lives in a society that has them already sedated, and threatened by fearful ignorant authority figures with shackles, tasers, injections and cruelty in general at the ready. I’ve mostly seen vigilance or peaceful protest in those in an unwell state, simply because they have the logic to see what they’re up against. We’ve seen this all our lives. Even those who fight back really never had a chance to show that they meant no harm. I say this because our common goal as this type of person is to be understood. While up against a mass of smug sociopath liars who are constantly projecting joyously in groups that we’re mentally incompetent and incapable. This whole thing makes me want to kick an isolation room wall in and pull out the insulation over and over again. That type of treatment on that scale and for that length of time inspires anger in the most emotionally controlled of individuals. This type of passive brutality cannot be easily understood by people who are on a regular level of unchanging dopamine and serotonin. Basically, it is those who are in control and uninformed that are inevitably inflicted with the stigma for mental illness otherwise these are used as tools by the PhDs that as of late have the audacity to wield side effects deceptively like better acting medication (as well as transference upon their staff). Mania is a powerful source of energy. Success of any kind is a possibility with people that have the genetic makeup of the bipolar individual and quite possibly the schizophrenic and schizoaffective system casualties. Most who blindly submit are in a sedated or in a financially constricted reality for most of their lives. However massive bodies of work that gain quality over time with practice are usually seen with all types of mentally ill individuals. Productivity is a given with excess energy and hopefully with excess dopamine. This is something the bipolar individual has at their disposal. (The excess dopamine, like I stated earlier, being the undiscovered advantage for schizophrenic and hybrid diagnosis individuals). If psychological ailment is part of ones developmental makeup, seek help through private practices in your nearest large city center, like psychologist offices, astrological predictions or the cheaper alternative; fortune cookies. ((all systems more trustable than the political money grab being masqueraded by the Canadian government and god knows where)). Hobbies will get lots of attention and skills like writing will be improved for most. Phenomenal ideas and activities must be given attention. It must come from a desire to be appreciated in a world that sees them as useless and treated as such as well as resentment for the genetic advantage and the mitochondrial patterns I will stipulate below. First off I am compelled to write; things like physical agility are improved as well when new energy comes along. Now, the organelle mitochondria in animal cells produces energy for the cell. Like the patterns of the near solar system and probably menstrual cycles and similar monthly patterns recorded to date, all of these cells (differing by their design) work as groups. Most likely shifting by the behavior and the pressures of the environment and or the environments one is involved with as well as (chiefly) the positive verses negative intentions or energy put forth. The positive being more strong and more apt to gaining velocity compared to negative endeavours while the ignorant become subjected to rapid, (fuelled by culture and social upheaval) evolutionary de-emphasis. Tradition will save many who are open minded. It has been theorized that a person who inherits the bipolar gene may have abnormal mitochondrial activity. I reiterate that this would cause fluctuating energy production for the whole body and possibly more so for the brain, ultimately spiking or dropping essential consciousness related chemicals like serotonin and dopamine. Mainly above the baseline of level as far as positive living goes indicating that it’s an innovative evolutionary trait. (These chemicals and the proper medicine are prime factors for the bipolars however independent) the natural chemicals)) These are known simply as chemicals that affect our mood. Or sometimes referred to as (and in everyone’s experience) reward chemicals (endorphins) and oxytocin (the love chemical). The mitochondrial theories as well as more psychological rather than biological theories (i.e. “mono-ideo dynamics”) are unproven. (most called into question more than 100 years ago left unelaborated but proposing a hypothesis unfinished on purpose, ie. Mono-ideo dynamics meaning that an idea can make the body do anything the body is capable of to the peripheries, any part of the body. The “any” part of course cautiously suggesting the brain) The future of mental health I would say is the extensive categorizing of the dosage and drug or treatment in relation to different types of people or circumstances. (i.e. more than 10 conditions, more like a dictionary of conditions to be) Also, once the medical scam plateaus (due to actual research and political attention) psychology as a treatment method will be implemented beyond nurses attempting some form of cognitive behavioral therapy. It is those employed to work with the mentally ill and the graduates of psychology or related studies who must insist on more data collection and way more research into the possibilities the mind itself can offer in medical treatment of all illness. It occurs to me now obviously that psych has been previously placed on the priority list as secondary to the drug trade and religion so to gain funding for an renewable priceless trade like deduction of illogical pursuits and outcomes. (A basic form of psychology that should aid dangerous things like delusion and the laws of attraction). Psychology research mut be put on the forefront so we can get meds chosen, dosages corrected and diagnoses discovered and made faster and more accurately. (And produce more jobs in all levels of the field of medicine) It’s a century old marriage and divorce between medicine, and free will. Psychology should be treated as equally as important as medicine as it is half the battle against corruption of our society, ecosystem and those who inhabit it. Back to the original induction and pragmatic endeavour of self controlling mental chemicals that have their own agenda, or the agenda of the moon and the weather; the social activities of a manic person can be difficult to put up with for others because it’s constant and overbearing at times. This factor most likely is being brought up because of my experience with passive aggressive tendencies. What is interesting is that it can stimulate chemicals in people around the source (more importantly I say between couples). Basic emotional chemicals like endorphins and oxytocin (excitement, survival and `love` related chemicals in any order) can be increased in other people at higher than normal rates and levels (not to mention the freed individual themselves). These chemicals can be a blissful and natural human experience when people are close to one another. This can be achieved through stylized communication between persons. In cases of manic people with other manic people; it’s a vibrant social atmosphere. It’s manifesting the inner emotion or thought into reality or more commonly manifesting it into iteration. In any case one can activate the other pretty easily without consumption of any substance. Any communication and body language is the stimulation factor here when differing types of people get together. This is what psychology is; ‘Behaviour changing chemicals, changing environment’. Boring and seemingly opposing efforts is also a common occurrence because it’s hard to stay positive for most and for those around them because, it’s been a long battle and opposites attract. Phrases like that as well as phrasing like “everybody’s different” is an indication that intellect and work ethic are also independent factors essential to the coexisting of partners in general. The state best to experiment in as far as is hypomania (medium mania) or even just wellness. Ways to activate a slow rise in your serotonin level if you’re not bipolar would be using a mild stimulant like amphetamine (Dexedrine). This is not something to try on your own. I’m suggesting this to be a carefully overseen test involving chemicals that are dangerous to be used in excess and for prolonged periods of time. If you become manic, know that once your manic states have passed and you’re well you still possess the ability to partake in and test different psychological and parapsychological activities (it does stay with you and up to date). One thing to discover while well is that a person can up their brain’s chemicals at will without the use of drugs, rather, behaviour or behavioural exercises. Once you’ve done that and or submitted to the opposing factors of the weaker you are both freed. This has been going on for billions of years in many forms. Dancing, sex, geometry, sensory deprivation (like vision quests or modern culture traditions) gaining knowledge about the earth from the stars, cultural and group oriented endeavours like art or chemical revolution (i.e. drugs rock and roll all stimulate the body chakras as well as the earth’s). Other theories basically thrown around by the wiser of the eastern west in the form of literature or poetry comes to mind, like; “electricity comes from other planets”, in relation to mono-ideo dynamics in relation to bipolars and nature; “The Gift” etc. (The Velvet Underground, 1969). All of these “foggy notions” are there for usually the reason they’re being inspired, meaning put art intentions and science together and you’ve got something good. Unless you succumb to the marketplace. Only drugs inspire chemicals on command without the need for circumstance (this is a modern cultural tradition). The nature of mania is that you become ‘antennae’ of sorts that more easily gathers information. It’s up to you what you do with your energy or your manic that turns the tides in your favour. Your perception may be higher in this state, but there (as always) is; a down side of it as there is duality in all things in nature. Psychosis depression and psychological problems plague the inexperienced young bipolar individual’s lives until an effective treatment plan is accepted or forced on them. Other ways to cushion this (and to avoid too many episodes) is complying with treatment plans to your liking and staying away from recreational drugs for the most part. Or rather, opposing and cheating the laws of the flawed marketplace. The process as a whole is always a learning experience for most. For sure, unbalanced brains are the next step in biological evolution. The union of the mind and body, the relationship between the physical and metaphysical, and how human culture is merged with the ethereal will occur along with the reopening of the practices originating from primitive psychology like the agenda of the heavenly bodies of fire above. Victim Psychology One thing I have realized over the past many years is that there are two kinds of people in the world; the aggressors and the passive. Like the chimps and the bonobos, the psychopaths and the victimized, the sociopath and the weary guardian, the farmer and the farm animal, the nurse and the sickly the dominant prey upon the weak. I have found the sociopath to be friendly and the psychopath to be gentlemanly and wise at times. This does not condone they’re compulsive destructive social and physical abuse that they inflict upon they’re victims. A psychopath is someone who enjoys committing violence upon another. A sociopath is one who has no care for the wellbeing of others. This is rampant in modern Canadian livelihood. One other thing I’ve noticed about aggressors is that they go in and out of remission. (Which is cooperative behavior) A volatile destruction of one’s trust of others and distorting of one’s actions that is prevalent in victims is sexual abuse of the young and old alike. Next to physical assault it’s the most reactive and high profile to this day of violations of another person therefore it falls in the category of psychopathy from what I can see because of its physical and emotional impact. Victims carry on in public, say profoundly erratic and shocking statements, take up malevolence for those who stand by them and seek a vengeance that has no sympathy in any circumstance against theirs and other persons abusers. Their paranoia fuelles the problem of wrongful accusation cases ongoingly across the board. Usually a current abuser is in the background with these cases fuelling the fire while the victim holds out for some kind of mercy or justice. Wife beating and general abuse of children and animals are the most haness and hated by the public and the spectrum of victims in this country. (Canada) Sexual abuse is the most widely discussed and concerning of abusive behaviors towards humanity, (to the point that it’s an ongoing obsession and topic in the daily conversation in a conflictive situation between persons and within groups of all sizes) breeds decay within the psychological health of the groups themselves(like paranoia to a schitsophrenic) and they revel in it, abusers and all. All the power to the victims for their enthusiasm, but to reiterate what I wrote above, these actions are somewhat on occasion either false puppetry put on by the victim’s close and currently occupied as; violator, or by bystanders who just want a show or to gossip. The falsity and sadly sociopathic act of ‘fish netting’ just about every oddball as a possible suspect of these lowly behaviors is very common in today’s society. However, I have realized that their paranoia is justified by the number of women beating and sexual abuse cases showing up as a reality today and that there is a correlation with the amount of homosexuals that are violently “in the closet” who turn up in our courts and also who don’t (mainly due to victims trying to hold their lives together). Can this be explained by ethnicity clashes? Gangs?Terrorism?Languages? Why this correlation? Is it obviously connected to what was formerly seen as perversion, homosexuality, as a factor in these broken homes. Just because by my census in northern Ontario found that heterosexuality was a minority here and that the abuse rate changed for the worse shows that it is possibly a correlation. How long has this been going on? I find that these men need to use women as a shield, a sexual punching bag that’s worth no more than a cheap roast beef. This is a new social disease. Not homosexuality, but the act of taking a mate of the sex you aren’t interested in for personal gain. The action of these men is typical abuse and the women go on destroying their psychological health through these empty relationships. This one (me) who is looking for a healthy relationship feels ripped off however the sociopathic women choose their life like dolls instead. While the jails hold the psychopaths. The police jail and court workers go on with their corrupt behavior in our region. It’s that that continues to choke our young women into a compromise. They are a social disease, we are under siege from sick nations and countries and our men are allowing our women and children to fall by the wayside to make room for more homosexual dominance. It’s time to liberate the inflicted to avoid more people crossing over to psychological toxicity. As these victims start to depreciate into self destructing and outwardly destructive tendencies. Psychologists must prescribe and teach like never before in this age of lies, abuse and corruption. LO-FI Music Explained JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 LO-FI MUSIC EXPLAINED The additional distorted data collected from the peripheries of our senses deliberately recreated and reproduced by means of adverse, outdated and unintentionally altered technology and style. Recorded or preformed ideally in the form of what we know as music and or film. broken record? More like audible snowflake. The geometry of nature get betrayed and expands when recording art under predetermined and active circumstances at the whim of the conditions of the environment and it’s setbacks. LO-FI Music/Media is the effect that the decay of our technology has on the pristine conditions in which we perform and record our visual and audible experience and the deliberate recreation and reproduction of these anomalies. Atonally thrusting forth with a foggy notion that these new audio and visual recordings of patterns that emerge from the more primitive forms of technology over time vaguely and remarkably respond to and compliment the setting of the reality intentionally being recorded on an almost conscious level. The question of how to activate them and where hey come from arises when artists of our own age with a knowledge of the recent technological and cultural past attempt the avantgard. Using predominantly analogue and traditional technology affected by time itself that we can alter ourselves in combined with natural (random) rate, voltage, velocity selection what have you to reproduce art AND what the ultimate effect of the recording process has on these works of avantgard art is the idea behind and the method LO-FI Music/Media. -James McFarlane (Seamus) I blew up Einsteins theory on insanity — James McFarlane (Seumas) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 Einstein said that the definition of insanity was repeating ones actions over and over again, expecting different results. I say that this behavior is far from insane. It is the fundamental law of how our development, bodies, daily lives, cultural traditions, reproduction, evolution and solar systems function. When looked at closely we see that even the most repetitious behavior is constantly changing at various rates. This is a law in all things in our universe therefore nothing ever really repeats itself. Rotations beautifully exist in nature and follow an imperfect geometry that we mimic in our cultures according the the schedules of the massive bodies above. Rock and roll, like opium or the moon have differing effects on the geometric patterns of our lives and evolution. Some rock an roll music by use of musical instruments (science) has combined the harmony of natures repetitious behavior (the drone) with the ever changing distortion factors like; time, mass, pitch and amplitude that are essential and fundamental to the evolutionary principle of repetitious behavior. Its the repetition that is the foundation we stand on, as long as your standing on it, expect something new to come about. Simply our presence in a scenario changes the physical and metaphysical environment at some rate, its our behavior and descisions that change that rate what manifests as the artwork or reality. — James McFarlane (Seumas) lyrics — James McFarlane (Seamus(Substreet Drones)) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 NEW — weird song (2016) the reaper, put the beat on hold, bones dug up just like the sunflowers in the snow, now deeper into the river of sight, if you go in that cave dont turn out the light, white light shines bright, no stars tonight, behind the vox stack, their singin heart is black, subwayswhislting over my head, thank god i climbed aboard instead, reap what you sew 4x (coda) Heart is black ive been had (ive been had) ive gone mad (ive gone mad) ths is war, (this is war) i told you all this before i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, heart is black face the facts, art is black, oohicant stay, (ooh icant stay) cant go your way, (cant go your way) i felt you sweet smack, Your smoke is black (smoke is black) i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, Beautiful face she thinks shes alright, butshes out of sight, swim in for a bite, underneath the white light, thining of fashons, and still looking smashing appealing to fools, out of all kinds of schools, lo frequency base, mixed with the acid taste, no it couldnt compare, to your beautiful face. you left a hole in my chest, a better shot than the rest, do you have five minutes, for a warhol screen test, at dawn i see a star burning not lie the rest, cant help but sit and wonder where its going next 4x cant help but sit and wonder where shes going next 4x Blue Haired BelleBlue Haired Belle, hangs around the gates of hellMorning stars get lost, in the flow of your blue sky locksDon’t despair, you’ve been on a track please take care, Come fly with me, its your blue sky that’s pure dont you see. Its alright You, me , everybody,we, see, only moonbeams,comets not so high,eathquakes in the sky,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright, You light the way, through tunnels, try not the scrape, the gunnels,on the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timeon the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timelalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalaooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaoooooo Main Street When you called me up hereIdidnt feel like walkin, Now your sayin to me,youdidnt feel like talkinwhy are we so clumsy,so clumsy with our breadnow you tell me honey, how you keep your stomach fed, always lending yourself out, to the freaks that dot our lives,honey when you gunna shout, at those drones in out beehive,take a walk uptown, to the bucket where they drown,gunna tell them when they get out,to get theiur handouts downtown MorningAt the dawn of a new age,Sun comes up, smell the burning sage,take a step foreward, turn the pagesay goodbye to all those dark dark days, MAking a brew I stare a the fire,stir the pot, and then connect the wires,turn on the amp, the music inspires,got to free my mind from all the cheats and all the liars. Morningdrone You, you know what I mean, when isay,that nothings gunna happen today,and you, you know what imean,wheni tell you it’s just not my scene, you, yeees you, what the hell are we gunnado?and you, the only one you listen to, is a man, by the name of, Lou. We, yeees us three, could make it at a defferentpace,I, know that, it’s a discrace, Lord, take us to another place, So grab your stuff, your record albums,you take the wine, and ill take the guns, and into the ocean, we will go, cause you know, were headed, for the coast,so raise up your glasses, for a toast,ha, which one of us can drink the most,the father, theson, or the holy ghost,and you say that this car can race,but can it take us to that other place, a different side of mother natures face. take me to another place. Nothing drones honey comes from lots of work, sticky feet moving berserkpatterns form in crude beauty, drones fulfill a pointless duty, honey drips, from the hive, golden jkelly feeds their wife, pretty flowers messy home, nothing drones on like the cone, back and forth, in and out, dancing like we use our mouths,the pay is small and so are you, results of that sweetens my tooth, the task is never ending, constantly descending, dripping in the mouths of those not worth defending. Oppenheimer park Rolling down the open road, to the end of the line,end of the world, end of the illusion of time,I go down to the water, and feel the cool surf,hear music in the air and take it for what it’s worth, cant understand why people, could live on so little,when so much goes through them, and through the needle, so hasty, with the selling of their saved souls,the western downtown is bright, blunt, and bold. Walk up and down throughout the day, out of your mind,think of your home nevermore, till the end of timethe loop drones on and on like a broken clock,don’t need to climb the montain, cause your at the top Hastngs is not coming for you, your coming for it,like hell it bewccons like the incline of a pit,the east side, sits a nd people come from near and far,to sit, and sink, into the grass, in oppenheimer park oracle so your torched,your hanging by a thread,don’t scorch, your pretty little head,wishing through your lips that it worntpass,feels like your turning from a liquid to a gas, take a trip right to the edge of your mind, consciousness poured out and left behind,take a break from all the flats and all the sharpd,ride a cloud of nothing, and numb your broken heart To thew edge of your mind, distortion blurrs the line bettweenwhats out there and whats inside, deep in the cave, breath in the cold air,see shadows on the wall,… stare bring news just like homing pigeon,come down, and start a new religion, leave now, and speak out, littereally or metephorical,the knowledge you posess will make you the oracle. Pipe Dream A science experiment gone totally wronga weather balloon with some kind of evil about it,all the kids at school could see it above the horizon,my friends and i knew we’d be better off without it, king kong, walked along high street, where the freaks and thugs call home,if he could reach this floating disaster on time,he knew he would never have to die alone,hethough about it and realised the people wouldntunderstandhe knew their alien nation would turn this ape into a man, darkened minds turn on a dime, revolve in time along thin white linesyin and yang drip from a wolfs fang, one pulls the trigger the other goes band why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Darkened fool has lots of toolsd, dead at the deep end of the pool, boring times and pouring rhyme, the question, is this really mine? why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Psych em out Psychem out like rabid vermin, make em shout a phony sermon,see right through their simple game,right to their core their thoughts of shame, watchem blow upon the fire, rocks explode right on the liar, social change brings end to war, housewife trembles on the floor,backwardsforewards, up and downvoisc encircle all aorund, observeprecieve hear see know learn mirror be, identify possible flaws, of the menace with no causethe time is now, so try to learn how to bend the rules they use to keep you down. Rabbit hole Salvage you mind while it is illuminated, a fire out of control,a cabbage in ttime, right now it is fumigated, wired and housing a soul,badhabbits in line, schedualed to be terminated, inspire you out of your hole, A rabbit , redefined and underrated but higher than ever before, drink up while the tea is hot and bright blue, the flesh of the gods makes it so,3 caps and some stems is all i can do, to see shooting stars upon the snow, think sweetly of me, with emotions so true as yu stand and look through the window,think of thinkgs to do when im gone for good now, waving at the bus watching it go, Im down in the southland, with deep curving valleys and bridges all rusty and crumbling, with grasses all dying and rivers of green and subways whistling under me. a spot on the corner , a 30 dollar gutar, a case and a cigarette too, is all that i need to get usedd to my home and bring my mind closer to you. The last of this song, is all out of place, but the pace rings true to the rule, of the verses before i shut tight the door on the patterns lost and misconstrewen,becauseits all backwards and forewards like this, its in shambles but its not a ruin,the end of this 4 verse song has arrived, to the point you might not clue in. Sea of lights Rockj and rave, through the night,on speed in a sea of lights,jump spin contort thrust,black white pain lust,spent a week there last might, maybe more,steal yourself a holy death crouching by the door cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Standing there all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the whilestanding all in black behind the vox stack, from behind sunglasses, we inspire the masses, cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Walk and talk it through the park,whiplashgirlchild in the darkrun run run, take a drag shoot your speed while you brag i’ve been orchestrating behind sunglasses,immitatingprodogy, and writer, man, tomboy and a throusand fans zeppelin spotlights on my brain exploding plastic in my veinhypnotyic tones as the propellers drone,mind bending sounds, resonate undreground, dak circles never weed, new york 1963, Chcmysic, velvet freak desensitize alter tweak, no money car moon or sun, sell your blood for heroin,if she ever comes now now, moe beat on that drum now now,pink perfume, mantra neumes silk screen factory tunes superstar test only the best wine coffee speed heroin rest,darkcircl;es never weep, new yourk 1963,theyve been up for weeks, in the white light the tweak, in 63 Skeleton Here we are again, moneys all been spent, you don’t know where hesbeen,hes trying to fend off things that dwell within, hes a skeleton. at the end of days hes been here before he says, narrow in mannyways,hes a skeleton,andidont know where hesgoin, or why he thinks itssnowin, he can see the wind thatsblowin, hes a skeleton, Spotlight Reap what you sew,snakes and poppys in her hair,sun flowers in the snow,make you look like your not so old,it had been so long i could not recall her face,she came outside to meet me though iwas’t her case,nowi sit and wonder if I’m out of place,the memories i had of her, are in outer space Standing all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the while,on the odd days I could talk to her,harmony and dissonence, a modern venus in furs,up and down that hallway, rotating the earth,waiting there for hours and hours, for her the quench my thirst. Sweet grass summertime,see the star shine, and i don’t mind revisiting those times,although my mind is blown, i play the drone,saying goodbye while you’re getting stoned. Vicious lips oooooo what to do,iwanna see you too,i think imgoin mad, ooooim not that sad noooi wonder sometimes where you are,what moon what planet under what star,id like to think your not that far, but we both know that trip was hard your vicious lips, eard on the airwaves, waking the dead, from their graves,your sweet, but your toxic, been three weeks since you dropped itI found it in my pocket, your trains comin I cant stop it You Made Me the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me, Come Back Around JAMES MCFARLANE·FRIDAY, MAY 13, 201610 Reads The process as a whole is always a learning experience like no other. Ultimately, like the brain has a recognition and physical atribute that corresponds with most chemicals in nature (possibly even synthetic chemicals) the psychological functions that a person can aquire are almostordaned and recieved in a timely fashion by the organ and im assuming the subconscious effortlessly and for evolutionary purpose. So I will assume everyones own, (however existential), growth experience is interesting. Having the atribute of spiking and deminishing of at least two of the brains most important chemicals related to experience, and behavior… and the awareness of the (most obvious to you) potential for not only chemical related occurances and their ripple effect, but the behavioral methods that the acute brain, manic brain, almost has a natural function to excercise and use usually either for a better survival or further expansion into astonishing existential and soon to be investigated parapsychological, social behaviors that tend to stick as long as they serve in a new type evolutionary (ie “Counter intuative”, productive and humanistic beavior that the mind eagerly draws in like an antennae recieving and storing up valueable energy. Setting this agenda and also surviving the early episodes, of bipolar, (which are usually the most drastic) are two hurdles to get over, let alone the crude, almost sickening archetectural features in our community hospitals, thats purpose cannot be desguised as heathcare to the human eye. A grossly overused assortment of bondage equipment and isolation chambers (not to mention your absence of any dignifying articles of clothing( also to be moved and set in place on occasion) nowadays plate glass walls, a whole dungeon setup designed by those people involved no less, who really probably care wheather the colour they chose or how their design would function better than the decaying sweat soaked ultimately in our home towns case, my favorite case, dried blood stained, apparenty approved for use by some dr, a single hallway, to alk up and down seemingly endlessly, untill not suprisedby the inevitable dread code white, that is the delight for the predominantly, …listen t me… dominated, by your average practicing as ferociously as they can with as little effort as possible, sociopath and more importantly to re ognise, violent violators psychopaths, who pretymch have the real pl working there stressin over what could possibly be these ppls capabilities, and are alienated inside by this evil thay cannot risk their ,,, virtully anything valuable, like a job or who knows, omg… thats why she left,,,,, so, yaa, these ppl rise like cream, annnnnd they have a really good time eeeehm, .. now nurse practitioners or legends, thir former dominator look like theyve aged, well lets say i was convinced they had beeen using prolongued use on heavy stimulents, like crack. iloldrewaout a blueprint with symboldsfr the patient advocate, neaysi mostly wantd to write and its alot of shit thats gone no doubt as home with ,,,lets say u know like fat cat. what, i was 15, and he was fat then, now hes the last one standing up there that i know of. oh yea… so i would say if u want out, and as of late i thing the design is perfect for the right ppl, socios included, fuckers, but, the dr, they are jst as careless as the security guards who cant hide haw stupid the really are and the odd couple who are revealing that their ok, still, idicovered, ,, maybe not in north bay, but in a proper community, like the city, ………..lost my train,,,, i think that i was getting at how just to be fair and …eyea 50 percent of the staff endowd with the ability to weildstrapps, and are encouraged by their no doubt under educated superiors, to always have the wrist ready to be broken if, now this brings me back,,,, they chokeyou, than comes the bondage that betty page would think is very unatractive, idk,,, the thing is,,, ya the drs, oh waut,, ok…. 1/3 of all of them are,,,, exculding the drs, and the janitors, who if ihaventdiscosedya are always there to pile up on a code white, and i know,, listen to me, no janitor ive met would grab my ass so hard on such a numerous a pile up, i have eyes in theback f my head,,,,,,, italalot,,,,,,, ppl that work so hard tp climb so not that far up the ladder in society, yes, sum of them are costume rocking witchcrftprodiges, who, will, 1 take the whole bunch of guys .. it may have been the forensic unit,,, this little thing is known by ,ppl, ive talked to about the psych who are inderectyl told by their others who work it, and ave stories about the oddity of us. iduno,, alot went down, but,, boring s yea she walks me throught e bysantine conduit iup to the floor, and the police have to walk somewhere behind to uncuff me and ta da, , y o iwanna bring up corporeal action when the best times,,, due to the conditios of bondage uuuuuuuuuuh were strictly through plate glass,,,,, ie. rare appearenced that are pretty much the only way. i really was bloody fucking thirsty 8percent and i mea ya,, when i was younngti chewed up braaaaan and drank my watttaaeer, and drew peace sighnsandd 7 days laterrrrr, after she sumhow managed to get an earbud into my head screaming for any colour you like by pink floyd, and playd the fungsonhggg, badassss. straight jacket. prolly day 4,,,,, i still think cough syrop is good for teenagerswhatver,,m took me to the top. ok… to get offf, the ward do as such; by Ultimately drawin on to no apparent end in crayons complete with nicotine gum (smokes,, the only freedom, not yet a right, that is so hard to get,,,,, and i learned to smoke in side the scarborough general hospitol,,, that room soon became the chamber, i would be locked in, for manny weeks, at different times,, thats where alot also hapened, is where the nude bondage asianfemaldr, ..whati mean i s theatwwhatwuldlou reed say… they never forgave us for nagasaki.,,, newaysive never spent more time in a i also a what appears to be and have bben told by assdocter of the north bay pstychwhi took to court at the hospitol and he got yelled at by a panel while my dad defended him and i ate cookies cus ii was really manic,,,, i also was 15 1/2… he later let me try and commit suicide,, thats a story of a different colour,, sounds like sprockets, idk,, idontwafe war with very real religiossympomatic shat, iuuuuuhm , so,,,, hereswahat krb8tujvcklwelbutrin.,,, ya, it istaken orally it shoul get right to work in three ad a half weeks, if suicidal,,,,, pray, oooir if u cant get dxedrine,, or sum speed beane drink a bottle of childrensgeapecoughsyrup once a day,,,, this acts as a seritonin reuptake inhibitor of a differrentcolour. 2 to 4 hours,,,iu get the mental stimulation,, it reall is a mellow buzz butttttyupppidecare fuck cough syrop…… dexedrineisnt out there and i know it couould really bbe used and they aslso do,, ie. jfk, addisons disease, dexedrine/anphetamine. so,, it will make y0ur 90 year old great aunt we all frogot about over in blind river get up from the abyss of alzheimers and dementia and sing thins is the day that the lord hath made,, ,but with real and concious interaction,,, without memory of course. however,,, she does that,,, did that anyway , but,,, im sure every month not every day,, at least one trial of … iuffingadhd adults can take it,,, why cant she. smeared into the grate of every window and the classy bubble rooom which actually was made with enough pride according to the regionnsid say, to have an even more, almost funny, and certainly battered scratched and spat on bubble for the head psychiatrist t poke his head into every few days. Lets not froget how that scene ended. like my father and grandfather before me who conditioned and alterred the correctiona institutions for fifty fife years now a conmfortablevacatin for psychopaths and whoever, not even the hole could stand up to point blank restraints naked, with your flimsy gown around your chest. at least in the bubble room there was lots of privacy, u know, to each institution their own, glass , bubble blood stained, probably 60 years of ppl that somehow said something that attracted the attention of their nurse, who no doubt vollynteered after printing your file which is most likely epic thick, there is no room for any of their creative stylings in that no, i did just smash the wall into pieces and ya all the insulatin is everywhere, high five and respect from my cute transference mistress, (and a couple others.) Perverts Dictionary (O_o))))))))))))) Trilateral — jinx No doubt — yes, super Doble- adorable, dobles, adobles Straight up — forthrightly, correct, right, or goof Throwing babies makes them gay Avant garde — protect the old (art) stay the same Downtown, — quiet not ratting Technology — rewind/splice mp3 interchangable Right up — shooting up Not up — free (not in trouble) Word — “my promise” new word, yes Naw — ya goof / no Buzz out — use vibrator / get high Drone- parapsychological anomalie Phe — speed (methanphetamenes) Stellar — awsum / the sun / single thing Figure — shape (claivoiance) One — god / goof Out-gay or leaving No doubt — ur gay / im gay. (For sure (im a whore)) straight up In — a goof out “my thing ‘ — claivoiant animation (repeated) Pentagon/circuit — terrific Duality — love or contrast in nature Straight — not gay or no drugs Up-in torouble/retarded/fucked Goof — crazy p/pedophile / molester/rapist/asshole Pervert-whore/hooker Asshole-incessant talker(mean) Solid-honest reliable Ethereal — heavely, sticky, Bird- girl pervert , moron Badass-pervert/violent, missile Idiot –saying nething Toad- smaker (heavy) old vagina A hard — a stiffy Eh eh- turning vol down and then up to trick parents in the 70s in quebec Bonhome — dildo, goof, good man Ein — get in /out (here) goof (French) ass hole/vagina Institution/church shouting= good Tabernacle-chest Coalis-chalise Zeut-fuck Fuck- rape/damnet or sex Stomping — raping Bang out- beat on Beat up — gay kids trying to get their frieing off violently Rank out — make someone stink by working them or hurting them / cast someone out canadian military style (gay) , gang up on someone till they freak out (psychopaths do it all over Canada)’ Trast- drunk /party/water Dai-morning, cool, fun, ausum, hello! Good-goof Story along-paranormal happening involving ancestral memory Psychic-all in one, prophet telepath Telepathic — mind to mind talker, thinker Telekinetic- moving things/ ppl Claivoiance- seeing colour from other ppls minds Rod-skyfish/fast moving anomaly animal Vaj-old or young vagina Oss — dog or baby vagina Grandma- bag in tree Candy — transsexual My honey — sexy (on the wind(throwing laughter(female))) Beating off — complex Wacking off-pervert Jerking off — solid (female) Move-walk / go Mullet-militia Freak –goof (black word) Ca — crap — crow call Germ freak-someone who forces germs on ppl Quay-(beautiful woman (cunt) — woman) latin Mead-morphene Rin — heroin (dust / cookie crumble) Beans — speed pills Rids — Ritalin No shit- of course Jib-meth Hellfire — run off meth (bad) Food — crack Molly-mdma /e Bombs — ecstacy cid — Acid (lsd) shrooms-magic mushrooms sterl — brother (little) afgan weed — brown pot kife — bad weed (shake) leaves) shibby — cool/goof cool-gay/awsum fade white — see white on od (heroin/mescelin(go to heaven/hell)) road — freedom — out of institution the suck — mescalin myth ast — perversion telekinetic- asty sortof meta/physical movement from the brain outwardly god — goof — one or christ lady stink — female deodorant leave it — shirt on chest (gay /bi) stop it hiboit gland — make you fat cured with amricain medicine merican — goof citizen of America Canadian- a sovereign citizen of Canada (incestewous clown) Were done — end releationship British — gay mongerers Nono –nig mistake Famished — thirsty / starved Sent — innocent Pervert — to change something and make it last nothing — absence, bipolar universai — multiple universes psykinetics — telepathy / telekinetics/claivoiance geniupsy — psykinetic offspring genius — generating new thought (brilliant) bipolar- up and down serotonin and dopamine, psychopath — violent person sociopath — not caring about neone oppositional defiant — opposing help borderline personality — victim misbehaving schitzophrenic — high fixed dopamine, fixed seretonin (normal)\ drone — unpiloted airplane, good worker, artist , schitzophrenic dick — enlarged clitoris get out of here — come here little child aced — gay men trying to get pregnant, daughter , sqaired away k — ketamine ass — dad/grandfather hun — little stut( skank) brecky — greek (breakfast) supper — jewish (Dinner) brecko — Italian (breakfast) avatar — ethereal image of oneself asshole — girl or boy or rapist (north bay / Chicago)\ goof — sad or sexy ethereal image from shame can be cured with desensitization (knumbaning) (telepathic) ya — pedophile dude — black pedophile Italian cowboy, fake doctor (candadian) huffin — pretending to be someone else while using telekinteicks in a sexual fashion. sadomasochist — paingiver/enjoyer earphoning — hearing ppl in ypur speaker — hold speaker up to ear and hand over other ear, psychopaths recommendation pur — rapist/pervert uggz — ug;y phile — pedophile ace — gays — rape — sister — grandma-brother path — telepath or a psychopath/sociopath, can — male whore cop- fake police (pedophile) musac — music laid — losing virginity glowie — acid victims (creep) ente old stupid goof dex — cough syrup bed down — tie to bed (north bay) fuck right off — screw my girlfriend\ fuck off — go cop the u- universe no shit — definitely mangina — friend spect-respect right up — repect straight up — disguise Italian — scot Adisguzi — disgusting excuse me No shit- really? Love — goodbyek“love”  and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophise with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the moment my phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche,  at this moment I can prove using circumstancial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indesisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and psysical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living thngs on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not neccesarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings cresendoes babies,, are when the energy isnt circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, an the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what  he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, emparts her secret harboured denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, wheather the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivitol form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense,  my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misenterperted until the last few seconds before the line went dead (FUCK), were interperated and acknowledged and the whole venus in furs philosophy of the one party giving the other what it wants so bad, but has been denied, and doing it with love, or what they BOTH KNOW is the kind of love that’s needed and given over finally with effortless,  voluntary participation from the dominant, resuling in satisfaction in bohe parties (in my case the girl and I were more harmonized cause it was love based. Sex based, and send in the sacred medium of sound, and the talisman, the artifact, the memory the high velocity evidence that the message was of high fidelity, was that she didn’t use descriptive words (language) I was unfortunately (my medium at the time) it was her specific instrumental natural sirens alerting me to the intentions that truly lied behind her actions towards me  even if it was for that day only, this medium I collected from the field is highly obvious and irreplaceable piece of art that is regarded by the mind of the homosapien on a natural level as evidence that it not just social interacton, its a higher form of interaction, sexual yes, the highest form, occurs only when the truly loving is truly loved, on a sexual level, which indicates physical involvement,  and it did, only on one side, the side of the desired, the starvd had revieved the intention, and it was love, something metaphysical that can only be cofimed as occurring for ne length of time is undeniable corporeal action, even if its just her, givin er to you reading literature over the phone, the gift of reassurance that you are loved in this memorable case was not through words, but audible expressions from the depths of physical and mental activity from her diaphragm through her vocal chords and into my eardrum, was evidence enough that our seemingly healthy and thriving friendship was being held in limbo while I struggled with life and suffered over the denial of the true real deal love you were harbouring and saving in yourself for the future, didn’t dim and go out like a candle that burned up all the wax. Without official acknowledgement celebration and because I was still fucked up, without the long lasting  relationship that we wished wold follow and planned for, the sound of her primal sirens, sent mono ideo-dnamically from her entire physical being emitting frequencies that resonate with the earth around her and correspond with the stimuli, me, the correspondence being the brief experience of hearing the broadcast of it, acknowledging the fact that no matter how flawed or un aware I was prior to precieving what was transpiring an how classicly themed to fit my experience it was, that the fucking phone died before I heard the end of it, I clued in to what was going on, (id been informed of this “drone”she makes by her ex boyfriend (the other guy) right before he drove his helpful and convenient car out of her life)  Even if it was “her being noisy” it was fundamental sensual body chemistry, stimulated physically by the best means she knew how mentally by the imperative consciousness of the presence of the instinctualy, reproductivly essential of (in her case) a genuine male emitting stimuli, in both of our cases the stimuli was audio. The rare and most modern evolutionary trait is the simultaneous(I say this empathetically because were using language the figure this out not a live experiment going on right now or some shit) Emotional involvemint by both parties “while during coitus” bein, to into words, (I know that you’ve been loveing me so im gunna love you back) tho words are sweet but it doesn’t compare to the same message sent in the biologically, exceptional quality thats essential to the balance of the bodies involved and there connection to one another, the planet and the unverse, sound and where it comes from and the intention or involuntary reason for its presence and amplitude, dissonant or harmonious, perhaps my reading, my being on the line was the drone, and the harmony was her dissonant siren song. Its our new found puprose as humans to when ready reproduce.  Love is highly evolved, and requires corporeal and linguistic and energetic action on both parties to be confirmed as true love. It works like a battery(the casing of the battery is the relationship here), one end needs what the other end has access to; the positive end has its own energy attached to it(the juice in the battery, posetve energy),(in this case this is our one, the girl)attractive body(+end)and a mind (the positive ends underside that’s harboring all the energy in the friendship/relationship (battery casing)the negative port on the other end of the battery on its outside (my mind in this case)is permanently attached through the casing of the battery to the mind of the desired, this girls memories thoughts etc. (the underside of the positive end) and not her body. Why because the casing is plastic,( the friendship) isnt enough to join the two to create a circuit, but the love(the battery juice made up of strange elemets) attracted by her negative mind(the underside of the positive end) and makes her body(the tip) fertile and ready to create electricity(communication) only the casing of battery acid(loving friendship)charged by my positive actions(the acid is positively charged by the underside of my mind(the negative ends underside) which represents my body, which behaves like the warm intentions of my actions, which positively go nowhere unless her mind (negative underside of the top of the battery)gets inspired by the love in the friendship (which is positively charged yearning, my positive actions played lovingly into her open mind(negative underside of the top) inspiring her to do something with her body(top of the battery positive) in response to my positive charge on her mind and all the love it can unleash,  for the sake of warm intentions she turns on a cell phone,, her phone(or wire casing) the copper thread in the wire(the signal) the positive charge in the wire, (her calling me) and her hooking up the wire touching it to the negative end of the battery(her bodies actions and warm intentions inspired by a recognisable charge I embody that she identifies with(my body and life being negatively charged with aa positive mind and her beautiful face and attractive personality.)  my phone rings and I see its her, the one, I immediately am inspired that its her charge the one im missing positively lovely, what is she up to? and i pick it up, A simple circuit at this point, is her using a tool or wire to send all her positive energy through to her body by using her minds attraction to positive energy, by simply attaching the wire it sends the positive energy not just through her mind and body but back down on her body, when the extension (the wire) is put on my mind(the negative end of the battery in this case, my mind),deliberately by her, sending the energized current of the love in our friendship (juice in the battery) into my mind(the end of the battery with a bump) by way of the wire (cell phone signals connecting our phones and her voice and energy being the current) all the positive energy meets the negative charge of my mind and then that foreign female tone (positive electrical current) the positive energy stemming from the juice, the love, that’s made up of elements like lithium(in the case of the battery and in my case as well) this element and other alloys, the whole chemistry of the battery acid, holds the charge positive because energy flows, and love or acid can be charged by the bi polarity of conducters meaning they are opposing one anothers charge on the outside leaving potential for power over nature,  while on the inside, inside the battery the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, litteraly loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symetricaly and quite similarly to your perfect face and body  only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me,  from the beach into the city,  while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella,  drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I  stop, wait my energys charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and  the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged ablilitys that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit cant explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery,  the almost dead battery, poetic licence and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, Ive always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know theres more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours,  in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, theyd knock me out, blow to the head, ill miss away you time instead,  that lilliad inside your mind

[looselucy]

Caged

June 15th It had been exactly a year to the day since we’d lost Rita Hunter. A whole year. I didn’t know where the time had gone.

The anniversary of her death was an instinctively reflective day, enough for my dad to finally voice something I knew he’d been thinking for the past twelve months. “I can’t live here.” He told me. “I know.” I acknowledged calmly. “I understand. I think… I think that’s what’s best for you. Not being here, I mean.” We’d woken up early that Monday morning to go down to the lake together, contemplate everything that had happened over the past year, get away from it all and experience a little peace before the day really began. I was proud of the conclusion he’d reached, as much as it hurt. It wasn’t long after she’d died that my dad had moved back to Rosebury, attempted to start his life over, but I could see he hadn’t been happy. I’d really thought it would have been what was best for him, and he’d thought the same thing, but a year on we both knew that wasn’t the case. “She’s everywhere.” He told me, looking out to the lake. “Around every corner, every crook. I see her… everywhere. She was my whole life here and… I don’t think I can be happy living here. I’ve got too many memories of her and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling like I’ve just lost her. I need to be happy and accept that she’s not here anymore, and I can’t do that in Rosebury.” Other than how much closer we’d gotten over the past year, I knew that he hadn’t gained much by being back there. All those fears he’d had about visiting our tiny village when she was still alive were realised and intensified by her death. They shared too much in that village, and everyone had known them as a unit; a year on and people were still giving him these looks, through kindness and sympathy and love, but even so. It must have been so draining for him, to constantly be viewed as though there was someone missing from his side. There was no room for progression in Rosebury. Not for him. “I wish it was different because I’ve loved having you back,” I sighed. “But I get it. It’s probably for the best, in the grand scheme of things. Do you know… where you wanna go?” “Not really. Close but… somewhere new. Fresh start.” The past year, for me, had felt like a time of growth. It had been my fresh start, somehow. Things had been calm. It had been amazing to have my dad back, to remind ourselves of our bond in a way that wasn’t largely focused around my mother’s illness. And as much as I’d have loved to have both her body and her mind back with us, her passing meant that we had been able to heal and move forwards in ways we never could when she was still with us. And even things like our money worries were no longer a pressing issue, meaning general day to day stresses that we’d had before were no longer troubling us in our daily lives. A weight we’d wished to keep had been lifted. “Well, I’m really happy for you.” I smiled to my father, sensing his relief for having finally aired his feelings. “We’ll get looking. Find somewhere perfect. But don’t go too far.” “I won’t, I promise.” He chuckled. “You sure you’re still happy here? You could come with me.” “I… I love it here too much. I can’t imagine myself anywhere else. I’m really happy here. I’m gunna miss you, but… I can’t leave Rosebury.” “I don’t know why even asked. I knew the bloody answer.” “I’m very predictable.” I chuckled. “But very happy, so… I’ll stay here.” “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” And though a year had passed, when I closed my eyes at that moment, the gentle breeze tweaked tenderly at my skin, and I could almost feel my mother sat there with us, her tranquil spirit sitting at my side. One year on, and I felt better than I ever thought I would have 365 days earlier.

“Morning!” Louis cheered as I walked into the shop, already in there and setting up everything for our day. “Hi!” I chirped back to him, closing the door behind myself. “You’re here early.” “Well, I knew you were heading out with your dad this morning so I thought I’d come in and get everything sorted for ya.” “You are literally an angel.” “How was it? How you feeling?” He asked as I walked to sit behind the counter. “Um… Yeah, it was nice, y’know. Felt good. Nice to just have a while, reflect and everything.” “I bet.” “And my dad finally admitted it.” “Shit.” His eyes went wide. “That he wants to leave?” “Yup.” We’d discussed it between us a few times because it hadn’t been hard to spot the adjustment troubles my dad had faced, and he had been open and honest about his struggles the entire time without fully admitting he no longer wanted to live there. Louis and him had developed such a lovely bond over the past year, one that had always been there due to how long he and I had been close friends and the ties between our families, but it lovely to see them form an adult friendship completely of their own accord. Louis had been so incredible to me, my whole life and especially over the last twelve months. “Shit. That’s good, right?” “Really good. M’really happy for him. It’s the right choice.” “Agreed. Oh, well fuck me, this is good. I was expecting you to come in feeling really down.” “It’s the opposite. I’m as pleasantly surprised as you are.” “Shall we celebrate with a brew?” “Yes! I’d bloody love one.” “Alright, back in a minute. The logs need doing, by the way.” “Nooooo, not the logs.” I groaned as he scuttled into the back room. “Anything but the bastard logs.” I settled down for the day, grabbing the laptop to begin work on the dreaded logs but still happy to be in work. Even so, it only took a matter of moments for my mind to drift, the files loading as my eyes coasted around the shop. Things had felt quant for quite some time. Rosebury had always been a quiet place, possibly uninteresting for others yet perfect for me, but there seemed to have been a normality and serenity in recent months that hadn’t really been there for quite some time beforehand. I knew that was largely to do with Harry and his absence from my life. For a long time, he’d been my everything; my centre, my focus, my exhilaration, someone who provided and catapulted an incandescent and unprecedented amount of affection and passion and excitement into my life. Life couldn’t have possibly felt quant and quiet with that sort of force being such a constant, and since he’d gone, that certain zest had dissolved, vanished before my eyes and left me with an existence that felt simple, calm. I didn’t even necessarily view it as a bad thing, but it was so apparent in my day to day life and everything I did. He still crossed my mind often, unexpected and uninvited. Often it was a memory, plucked from corners of my mind that I had attempted to cloud, yet despite my efforts every image remained agonisingly clear, as though only minutes had passed since he was mine. I’d think about mornings with him, how it felt to wake already in his arms, how green his eyes had been with the rising sun searching through his window as though it was looking for him specifically, as drawn to him as I was. His eyes would shine when he looked at me, smiling wide as soon as he saw my face. His smile spurred further recollections I’d struggled to omit. I’d think about his classes, how strong he had made me feel, the way he’d smirk at me through the crowd in this certain way, thrilled to be sharing a secret with me. I’d think about his art, the way it had felt beneath the tips of my fingers. I would think about his habits I’d grown to hold dear, like his love for local beers and how he liked to bake, the way he would call me boss. I’d think about his love for those self-defence classes he’d held, how he’d pay extra attention to the older ladies, how he was actually passionate about the results he saw from the lessons he taught. I’d think about the plants in his room, how he liked to have something to care for. And though I’d tried to forget, I’d still find myself thinking about his lips and about his voice, how it was gentle yet firm, how it had burdened me with words of reverence and devotion that continued to torment me. But it wasn’t simply memories that haunted me, it was this latent idea of what we were or might have been. It was worries over his wellbeing, questions of where he was, how he was. The thought of how he’d now been out of my life for even longer than he was in it made me shudder. It pained me to face the fact that even still, I missed the electricity he’d brought to my life. He had always been a storm. “One cuppa tea,” Louis pulled me from my thoughts, walking back out onto the shop floor. “And two chocolate biscuits.” “You’re a star.” He’d barely managed to put our brews on the counter before the door burst open, the bell chiming and Libby running excitedly up to him and leaping into his arms where he caught her as quickly as he physically could. She wrapped her legs and her arms around him like she hadn’t seen him for fucking years. Niall and Lin followed close behind, sliding in just before the door closed, not half as excited. “Morning, all.” I clucked. “Morning, you.” Lin grinned as Niall pressed his palms on the top of the counter so he could elevate himself up and across to plant a big kiss on my cheek before landing back on the floor with a thud. “What’ve I done to deserve your company this morning?” “We wanted to see how you are.” Niall told me with a smile, his tone filled with a thoughtful concern. “How was it?” “Nice, y’know. Really nice. M’feeling loads better.” “Good. That’s good to hear.” “All the better for seeing you lot. Thank you for coming.” I then turned my head to Libby, who by that point was kissing Louis with everything she had. “Oi, you two! Love-birds! I know you’re smitten but this is verging on inappropriate.” “You’ve been like this for weeks, you can chill out now, by the way.” Niall joined in with my good-natured scalding. “I’m worried that by the wedding it’ll practically be live porn.” “Ewwww, Niall!” She cried, getting off Louis so that she could hit his arm, hard, trying to bury her smile. “That’s disgusting!” “So’s your tongue down Louis’ throat, but here we are.” The two of them started scrapping with each other as they often did whilst myself, Louis and Lin began to catch up, like we hadn’t only seen each other less than 12 hours earlier. It had only been a few weeks since Louis had proposed to Libby, and the two of them had been completely inseparable ever since. Not that they weren’t beforehand, because they absolutely were, but since he’d popped the question their antics had intensified tenfold. I think Libby had been the only one of us who hadn’t been expecting the proposal, to be honest, and she’d been showing her gratitude with exuberant desire ever since he’d asked her the question one bright Sunday morning, waking her with a speech about how much he loved her, a subtle and beautiful ring, and a Full English Breakfast. He knew exactly how to get a yes out of her. “STOP ATTACKING ME, I HAVE NEWS!” Niall eventually cried, holding Libby at bay by her face, his palm pushing right against her features. “Y’know Sean?” “Pub Sean?” Lin clarified. “Gay.” He nodded; eyes wide, obviously very excited. “No way.” I gasped. “Yup. He’s gay as fuck and I’m gunna ask him out.” “How do you know?” “He told me. When you all left the pub last night, I stayed and we got chatting and he told me. Said he came out when he was travelling.” I recalled the time when Chloe had told us they’d slept together and how poor it had been, and suddenly that made so much more sense. It gave an entire reason behind his apparent lack of care when they’d been together, introduced all these complexities that made it perfectly plausible. Frankly, it must have been difficult for him. I’d never been able to fix things with Chloe. Not really. We weren’t on bad terms, but we’d never been able to get things back to the way they were before she was with Sam. We’d spoken about it, aimed to get things back on track, but it had never happened. The fact she was so often in his company didn’t help, because even though I was okay with him too, I certainly didn’t want to spend any time with him and neither did the rest of our friends. Things had just dwindled gradually until being in her company became a rarity. As much as I missed having her around, it felt like it was for the best. But the bottom line was that we’d lost two people from our little group of friends over the last year, and it was noticeable. “Well, good for him.” I smiled. “But don’t just ask him out because you feel like he’s your only option. Know what I mean?” “That’s definitely not why. He’s fit.” “True.” “And he seems decent.” “He’s well sound.” Lin chipped in. “I’ve known him for years, he’s top. I think you’d be suited, to be fair.” “If he’s top and he is a top, I’m onto a winner.” He lifted an eyebrow suggestively as he finally let go of Libby’s face, receiving a mixture of laughter and groans from the rest of us. “Reyt, so I wanna buy some wine for if I do ask him out and he says yes and then we get a little drunk and end up stumbling back to my place for some sex. Do you have anything for that situation?” “Yes, we have a wine for that specific scenario.” Louis sniggered. “Wanna look downstairs?” “Let’s.” “I’m coming with!” Libby chirped, grabbing hold of Louis’ hand and accompanying the two of them in their search for the perfect wine. With a smile, I rolled my eyes and shook my head, turning to look at Lin as immediately picking up on how nervous he looked, concern wiping the smile off my face. “What’s up?” “Nothing.” He defended. “You sure?” “Uh.. Y’know, it’s just… With Libby and Louis. Chloe and Sam. Niall and Sean, hopefully. I… I was just wondering if you wanted to… Y’know- I was thinking maybe you and me could… Well… I dunno, I was wondering if I could take you out. Some time. Maybe.” He sputtered. I can’t imagine that the look that masked my face then instilled any hope in him at all. I imagine it was quite the opposite, if anything. I couldn’t make sense of his words. Lin wanted to take me out on a date. “Wait… are you joking?” It was an uncomfortably long time before I managed to blurt those words. “Um… No, m’not. No, I… I’ve kinda wanted to ask you out for years. I was just… scared about ruining stuff. So, no, I’m not joking.” He suddenly panicked. “Unless you’re gunna say no, in which case I wasn’t even serious and it was all a big funny joke at your expense and I definitely have not wanted to ask you out for years.” “Holy shit.” I hadn’t seen it coming. Not at all. Not even with the assumptions Harry used to adopt when it came to Lin and his feelings towards me. I’d always thought he was being ridiculously paranoid, overthinking my friendship with Lincoln because he’d never had anything similar himself, but it seemed he’d genuinely picked up on something that had been downright imperceptible to me. “But… I don’t… We’re not… What?” “Oh shit. I shouldn’t have asked.” He sighed, resting his elbows on the counter and hiding his face in his hands. “No, oh my god, no don’t feel like that! It’s fine, it’s good,” I reached and took his hands in mine. “I’m just… surprised! Like… I mean, what the fuck?” “I know, I know. Like, it’s weird, I know it is, and you’re like my best mate and this doesn’t take away from that, at all!” He looked up to me. “I just… Do you ever worry that you might be missing out on something really good because you’re so fucking settled? Like there’s something amazing and you’re missing out on it because there’s a fear there? I don’t want that. I don’t wanna be like that. And… I dunno. I just think the fucking world of you and if we don’t try, we don’t know. Does that make sense?” It did make sense, as strange as it all felt. It made sense. Fear so often held so many people back, stopped them from reaching for the things they desired. I could strongly sense that Lin wasn’t necessarily saying he’d been secretly in love with me for years, more that he cared for me a lot and there was an attraction and maybe we’d been missing out on something more and we hadn’t given ourselves the opportunity to explore possibilities. He could see all these people around us falling together in a wonderful way and he’d started asking questions. I understood that. “It makes sense.” “So I thought we could maybe… have a date or something. See how it is. Because you never know.” “You never know.” I agreed. “Is that a yes?” “It’s a… I’ll think about it. It’s not a no, by any means, I just… I think I need my wrap my head around it.” “That’s fair. I feel like I dropped this on you from nowhere.” “You did. You’ve fucked me up for the rest of the day.” I chuckled. “Sorry. It’s awkward.” He cringed. “It’s not awkward. We’re not gunna let it be awkward.” I spoke with confidence. “We’re gunna… see what happens.” “That sounds good.” He exhaled, easing. “Thank you, by the way. I was ready for that to go down like a lead balloon. But it’s kinda like… a bog-standard balloon, which is much better. Kinda deflated, but not lead.” “You’re a fucking idiot.” I sniggered. “Correct.” We heard footsteps, so he shut up, standing back upright and aggressively rolling his shoulders in and attempt to straighten himself out and appear relaxed and nonchalant to the rest of them so they wouldn’t guess he’d literally just asked me out, not that any of them would have ever thought he had. Surely that wasn’t a conclusion any of them would have ever reached. “Did you find the perfect wine?” I asked Niall, keeping my voice bright to distract from how uncomfortable Lincoln clearly was. “I did! This is the wine that gets me laid, I can feel it. I’m calling it shag-wine from now on.” “It’s on the house.” I cooed. “Good luck.” “I love you so much.” He headed to the door. “C’mon, you two. Let’s leave these two fuckers to do some work.” He was out the door in seconds, Libby and Louis sharing a sweet goodbye that was as dramatic and wistful as expected. “Let me know.” Lin turned to me, spoke quietly. “I will. I promise.” “Thanks. And sorry.” “Don’t be sorry.” He whispered a few shy goodbyes before following Niall outside, quickly followed by Libby, who leaned over to pinch my cheek for no apparent reason before leaving. It was only when I was out of Lin’s company that his proposal burst back into my mind rather belligerently, his words accompanied by a substantial headache. I gripped my eyes shut, hoping to think of anything but. “So did he ask you?” Louis grinned, retrieving the tea he’d made before we were interrupted. “Huh?” “Lin? Did he ask?” “Wait? What? He told you he was going to ask?” I gawped. “Wait, no, are we talking about the same thing?” “He asked you out on a date, right?” “What the fuck? He told you he was gunna do that?” I squealed. “Well, you know how it is,” He rolled his eyes. “I’m the emotional support one, aren’t I? I dunno how it happened, but I somehow became the mother of the group, so people talk to me about this shit.” There was a warmth about Louis that I could not understand, but he was right; he was the one we all went to when there was anything we really wanted to discuss or anything we felt we needed to open up about. He had this wonderful energy that made him so inviting. Not only that, more often than not he gave wonderful, honest advice. There were secrets that I had kept so close to my chest that I hadn’t even found the strength to tell him, of all people. Something stirred in me then, an abrupt desire for that to change. “I didn’t know what to say.” I sighed. “I feel bad, but… I dunno! What the fuck, I just wasn’t expecting it!” “Kinda knocked me for six too, to be fair. But, I mean… he’s fucking sick. He’s a top lad.” “The best.” “I say do it.” “Oh god. I dunno. I dunno how I feel. I don’t wanna ruin anything.” “Wasn’t I exactly the same about Libby?” He said quite solemnly. “Yeah but I feel like you were always secretly in love with her. And once you got past the denial, boom, sorted.” I huffed. “I’m pretty sure I’m not secretly in love with Lin. Like, I’m really confident on that.” “But you don’t know! Maybe like… kiss him. Test the waters.” “I can’t even picture myself kissing Lin!” “I get that, I do. No pressure, or anything, but like… don’t rule it out, know what I mean?” “Mm.” “Do you feel like there’s something specific holding you back?” This was my opportunity, my gateway to tell him something I’d been holding in for 20 long months. It had been almost 2 fucking years since the first time I found myself in Harry’s bed and I hadn’t told anyone other than my dad about us. When things first started, the whole point was that it was a secret, something between us that no one else needed to know about. Following that, when we were together, I was conscious of how he felt, the pace he wanted to move at, what would make him comfortable, so I stayed quiet. Then it ended and he left and the last thing I wanted to do was talk about it. The cut he’d left was deep, and the idea of talking about him when things came crashing down seemed like salt to the wound. I didn’t want to tell the story of us when all we’d become was an ending. But now the wounds had healed, and the salt would no longer sting. It would merely glide over the scars he’d left. “Um… I… Um… Okay, there is something. It’s… Well, I was sort of… I was with Harry. Remember Harry? Yeah, of course you do, that was stupid. Okay- When Harry was here… we were… Together. Me and Harry… had a thing.” I think I was hoping for an alarmed look of absolute shock and disbelief, but that’s not what I received. Instead, he grinned, took a sip of his tea to try and hide his chuckles. Everything was blowing my mind. “I was wondering if you’d ever tell me.” He sniggered after some time. “What the fuck, Louis? How do you know everything?” “I just do.” He shrugged. “I pick up on these things. You two had a big energy. Huge. I figured.” “You didn’t say anything.” “Well neither did you! What was I supposed to do? And I didn’t know if anything was actually happening, I had no proof. I just knew at the very least you wanted to fuck each other.” I sniggered over his blunt delivery, almost relieved that he’d had some kind of idea that something had happened between us. I’m not sure why I felt that way, but it was like there was less to explain, less questions to be asked. I didn’t like talking about Harry, but it felt good to break that secret. “Does everyone know?” I panicked. “Don’t think so. I think you girls were all so keen on fucking Harry when he first got here that no one really thought anything of it.” “Well… Yeah.” I sniggered. “That’s probably true.” Louis was much more observant and tuned in than the rest of them were. Me and Harry had been surprisingly good at keeping things between the two of us rather inconspicuous, so it didn’t really surprise me that Louis was the only one who had caught on. “Was it serious?” He asked. “Uh… I think I’d say yes and he’d say no. I dunno, it got pretty fucked up… towards the end.” “Did it end because he left?” “I think he left because it ended.” “Shit.” “I told him I loved him and-” “Wait, you loved him?” Finally, he seemed shocked by something I’d said. “I… Yeah. I did, yeah.” “I didn’t realise it was that serious. Well, I knew you were good friends but I guess I figured it was just sex.” “I think he felt the same way. Because I told him I loved him and he freaked out and said it hadn’t meant anything to him, and the next thing I knew he’d fucked off back to New York.” “That’s shit, m’sorry.” “Yeah, well,” I shrugged, tried to loosen up. “Shit happens.” Though he appeared in my mind like a damn migraine more often than I knew he should have, I knew also that time had helped to heal and conceal wounds that Harry had left behind. I guess I’d expected talking about him to hurt, to drag agony back into my heart, but it didn’t. I’d become almost numb when it came to him. I’d had to force myself to forget, move on, not be haunted by a name and a face and a love that wasn’t supposed to ever be in my life in the first place. He was a malfunction, a glitch we’d experienced in our attempts to find the true meaning of our lives. We were never supposed to be. It was better to be numb than to admit the magnitude of feelings he had thrust upon my heart. “It’s his loss.” Louis said, and I rolled my eyes. “Nah, I’m being serious, Alf! He’ll fucking live to regret that, m’telling ya.” “I can’t say I agree, but I’m glad you think so.” “So… Are you not over it? Is that why you’re not sure about Lin?” “There’s a million reasons I’m not sure about Lin.” I wheezed, wanting to lay myself down on the floor and groan for the rest of the day, or at least until I made a decision. “I’ve known him since I was seventeen. I’ve known him for almost eight years. I’m twenty-five in a few months. I… I just feel like if something was supposed to happen, it would have happened already.” “But for the majority of the time you’ve known him… you’ve been with someone else. You’ve been with the wrong people. Sam and then Harry. Maybe the right person was here the whole time, you just weren’t looking.” “It’s so easy for you to say when you and Libby worked out so well.” “Yeah, it is easy. That’s exactly the point.” He said. “Look at how it worked out for me.” It was a risk, but maybe it would turn out to be one that was worth taking. Maybe the risk would bring me exactly what I needed, wanted, craved. Maybe Lin was perfect for me and I’d been too busy falling for the wrong people to even give him a chance. I’d never thought about it before that day, but suddenly I found myself thinking that if I didn’t at least try, I might always be asking myself the question – what if? “I do think the world of him.” I admitted exasperatedly. “Of course you do, he’s fucking amazing. Good hair.” “Such good hair.” I laughed lightly. “You could do a lot worse than Lincoln Crosby.” “I know I could. I know.” My voice and my disposition were both flattened. I adored Lin. I truly didn’t have a bad word to say about him, my only concern was that there was something deficient when it came to the two of us in a romantic sense; something that meant no matter how much we loved each other, we would never be able to fall in love with each other. That was something I needed to find out. But it was like every time I really considered it, allowed myself to think about saying yes, Harry’s face would appear in my mind once more, subconsciously trying to pull me away, keep me from trying things, holding me down, making sure I remained as miserable as I had been since he’d left. I deserved to move on. I deserved to try something new, and I refused to keep being held back and restrained by a boy who had cut me free a year earlier. He had taken flight, and sometimes it felt like I had remained completely grounded. It was as though he had given me the wings and simultaneously locked me in a cage. It was time to set myself free. “You okay?” Louis sounded somewhat concerned, eyes trained on me, likely seeing the cogs working in my head. “Mm.” He took a few moments, as observant and conscious as ever before he spoke again, reminded me just how well he knew me, how easily he could figure me out. “The Harry thing really fucked you up, didn’t it?” I looked to the ground, my stomach churning. “You really loved him, didn’t you? And he just left like…” “Like I’d never meant anything to him.” I said what I felt he couldn’t. “You did. I know you did. He told me you did.” “What? When?” “Uh… I think it was when you first went to see your mum again, and he went with you. I grabbed him for a chat before you went, kinda asked why he’d put himself forward the way he did. I mean, we’d all known you for so many years, we’re all so close. I wanted to know why he’d stepped up.” “Wh-what did he say?” “He was kinda… trying to be blasé about it, like it didn’t mean much, but then… I remember him saying he’d do anything for you. I remember it like it was yesterday. So…. No matter what happened, I know he cared about you a lot, Alfie. And I know it’s hard to see that sometimes, but he did.” Hard didn’t even come close. It was fucking impossible sometimes. Because he’d left. He’d told me that we were just fucking and he’d left; despite everything and despite the reasons he’d moved to Rosebury in the first place, he’d altered his entire life to get away from me. It was near fucking impossible to be conscious of the good parts when the bad had began feeling so much more dominant in his absence. I owed it to myself to see what romance may be like with someone new. I needed to move on from him.

[infinitesimal-grey]

Prince Starved 8

G/t College Sanders Sides AU

This chapter is a wild, emotional (good and bad) ride from start to finish. Enjoy.

Co writer: R

I think hiddendreamer isnt beta-ing the doc anymore so just a general thank you to them for being amazing, I highly recommend their checking out their many g/t stories and blogs

Warnings: Caps, mention/alluding to childhood abuse, scars

Word count: 1,630

...

"Just don't step on any bruises dumbass." Roman put the jar of salve on his back, along with a pile disinfectant wipes that he tore up while Virgil was otherwise preoccupied. He rested his head in one arm so he could see Virgil out the corner of his eye.

"I won't." Virgil rolled his eyes and walked over to the stuff. He picked up a piece of wipe and scooped some salve into his fingers. He went first to the bloodied scrapes, finding them the most important to address. "This is way weird.." He chuckled a bit. "Never expected myself to' be helping a giant with his wounds." "Wounds that are my fault," Virgil left unsaid.

Roman hummed in agreement, "Not really what I was expecting to be doing this evening as well.

"What were you planning on?"

"Dunno, I'd probably be showing you around where I live. But we're both pretty sore so I think that's the end of our adventuring."

Virgil shivered at the thought of going back into the cold, not to mention that that would put them back into Comrade's line of fire. "Yeah."

They sat in a comfortable silence while Virgil patched Roman up, but there was still an underlying tension etched into the muscles in Roman's back.

   "Were you ever planning on mingling with giants if it weren't for me?" Roman asked, thoughts falling down an anxious pondering on the fact that them having met was one in thousands.

Virgil hummed quietly to himself, continuing to fix up Roman's wounds as he thought. "Dunno... Don't think I ever really planned to, no.. I didn't like, see myself never mingling with giants but, didn't see myself doing it either, y'know?"

"... Would you have met with me today if you knew I who I was?"

"I know who you are Roman." Virgil focused his eyes downward.

"I think you know what I mean," Roman let out a nervous chuckle that bounced back slightly.

"I--ahk!" Virgil stumbled as he flew and landed belly and face down on Roman's back, face flushing wildly. "Ro! Hold still!"

Roman couldn't help it, it was a welcome and hilarious distraction to something he might not want to hear. He couldn't help but let his thoughts be sucked away by it and he laughed harder.

Virgil scrambled for purchase on Roman's still slightly shower slick back. "Ro!"

"Pff-I'm- I'm s-sorry-hahaha!!" He pressed his face into the pillow, but still his laughter continued.

Virgil slipped across the back and clung to Roman's ribs. He kicked at his friend's arm in an attempt to gain purchase. "ROMAN YOU ABSO-GAH-" His foot slipped and he fell into Roman's side, which his voice couldn't help but crack embarrassingly at, "-LUTE PEDESTRIAN STOP TH-THIS!"

"Your insult game is getting weak pipsqueak." Roman smirked and let out a heavy laugh as he glanced over his shoulder at Virgil's predicament. The tomato-red emo looked like he was about to spit back a scalding retort but literally squeaked when he found himself bucked multiple inches into the air. He came back down on a nasty bruise that made Roman wince, but it was worth it for the look on the human's face.

Virgil huffed and puffed in the exertion of regaining ground his friend's back just so Roman could hear his dramatized aggravation. Roman found it hilarious but patiently waited for his friend to get back to the center of his back.

He sat up and crossing his arms now that the ground beneath him wasn't as much of a tumultuous sea of muscle. The back was obviously still shaking with muffled amusement, though.  "Oh my gods, Ro, stop laughing or I'll leave your cuts to infect and kill you."

"Yeah yeah," he let a few more chuckles escape before stretching his neck and relaxing into the pillow.

Virgil huffed, and moved further up to his friend's shoulders. "Jeez, they really fucked ya' up didn't they, Ro?" He moved to a new wound, but paused, staring at Roman's back in confusion. That's... not new.

"Barely felt it," Roman grinned cheekily, but inside he could still feel ghost sensations of what it was like to be kicked over... and over... He nipped that unwelcome trip down memory lane at the bud.

Virgil frowned slightly, setting the disinfectant to his side as he leaned forward and ghosted his fingers over what seemed to be an old, round scar. He couldn't quite tell what it was, but it seemed almost like a burn… He jerked his hand back when he felt every individual fiber in Roman's back tense.

Roman had to stop himself from bolting straight up at the touch. He stayed painfully quiet and the air in the room froze in suspense.

Virgil glanced up toward where Roman's head lay. He was unable to see the giant's expression from here. A searching glance showed more scars surrounding where he sat and a sick unease festered in him. Looking back down to the old scar, he lightly laid his hand on it. Even with his fingers splayed they barely reached the scar's circumference. "...Ro, what's this?"

Roman shivered at the ghost sensation that pulled up memories like unruly weeds. His voice dropped in volume. "...what do you mean? Probably just something Comrade's friend did."

"I mean this." Virgil's worry filled voice strengthened, making it clear his concern would not waver. He lightly ran a finger persistently around the edge of the burn, frowning as his thoughts drew conclusions that he was going to kill whoever caused this scar. "It's.. not new."

Roman sat up abruptly, he stretched his arm awkwardly behind his back and grabbed Virgil upside down in a fist. The fist swung around and Roman searched Virgil's eyes. "Please." He was quiet and strained, practically begging. It came out as if his throat was choked.

"Woah--" Virgil tried not to shake in the firm grip surrounding him. Roman's eyes shone wetly with more emotion than he'd ever seen them betray before. Virgil was finding trouble in getting his nerves to calm down enough to speak to the giant.

"..What happened..? You haven't told me about that- they looked like.. like burns." He finally managed. He thought Roman and him confided in each other, but this was a whole new facet to his friend that he had never met.

Roman averted his eyes and his hand tightened slightly in not quite a menacing, but tense.

Virgil could his breathing's slight restriction and his heart lurched in primal fear. But he beyond that he could only feel his concern swell and overtake the fear. He leaned forward, setting a hopefully reassuring hand on Roman. "Ro, please?"

"It's just a scrape from a past life. There is a reason I'm not home right now of course..." Roman realized with horror what he was doing and set Virgil on the bed before burying his face in a pillow.

Virgil took grateful, full breaths but frowned at Roman's 'hiding'. Fear made him hesitate and shuffle idly away. No, this is Roman. Virgil reminded himself. I know Roman. He's the same person. Same friend. He liked to think he was convinced but that didn't stop his knees from shaking. Nevertheless he hesitantly approached and climbed up onto the giant's pillow, sitting himself down next to Roman's face. He paused but set a reassuring hand on his temple. "Hey, Ro.. It's okay. It just makes me worried because you've never told me about you having that... sort of scar.." He didn't mention what he assumed them to be- partially to not trigger Roman further but also not wanting to be grabbed in that fist again.

"I'm sorry, I don'- I can't like talking about it." Roman sighed.

 Virgil nodded slowly, leaning over to give Roman the best 'hug' he could manage. "That's alright, Ro. You can.. talk about it when you're ready. If that means never, it means never." He frowned, knowing with Roman that that might end up happening. He tended to bottle things up until the pressure became volatile. 

Roman blew some air out his nose in releif. His hand came up and 'hugged' Virge back, holding him to his warm cheek in a nonverbal thank you.

Virgil stifled a surprised yelp, staying stiff as a board for a few moments. Then he smiled and just relaxing into their odd sort of embrace with a sigh.

"We should probably finish bandaging, after that we can watch a movie or somethin'." Roman mumbled, his speech vibrating through Virgil. He pulled his hand away and turned slightly in the pillow so a singular, dewy eye could peek out at Virgil.

Virgil nodded. "Yeah." He offered a small smile, patting Roman's cheek a few times. "You gunna be good?"

"Mhm," Roman mumbled into the pillow. He twitched at the pats, not expecting such an odd sensation.

 Virgil hesitated for a few moments but gave Roman another quick 'hug' before pulling away and reclimbing the giant's back. He returned to methodically fixing up the various cuts and bruises on his back.

 The giant froze, his tan face and shoulders bloomed like a crimson rose at the unexpected, second hug. He remained there blushing and internally screaming at the voices in his head that were trying to convince him to scoop Virgil up right that second.

Virgil didn't say anything else, forcing the flush away from his own face with a few clever dabs of the cooling salve. He kept working his way over the bruises and cuts, letting out a heavy sigh and flopping onto his back once he'd finished. "Okay, so, that took forever but that should be everythin'." Virgil had found more scars than he wanted to admit, but he didn't want to upset Roman again by mentioning them further.

...

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since i haven't finished writing anything just yet...

here are some of colby's tweets from 2018.

i don’t have proof that these are his tweets, but believe me, they are his.

if it’s bold and italicized, it’s someone’s tweet to him (or… tweets for context to what he was responding to).

if it’s in (), that’s just me commenting lol

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jan. 2 - SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS

So very thankful for all my beautiful fans and amazing friends. Love you all

Jan. 5 - It’s okay to take time to find yourself, and become the person you want to be. Never too late

Jan. 7 - Find someone who’s in love with your soul, not the way you look

(damn i really miss when colby would tweet mushy gushy stuff :/)

Jan. 8 - ~ You’re almost gone, and I’m okay ~

Jan. 11 - I am a natural introvert who has learned to cope/adapt with social situations and surroundings. Don’t think that you have to be born an extrovert to have outer confidence

Jan. 13 - Life is too short to be superficial and fake

Jan. 15 - I feel like Social Media can be a place full of judgement, which goes hand and hand with feelings of insecurity. The internet is a new world of communication, something our generation is FIRST to experience .. Put your phone away for a bit if you start having these feelings

Constantly subconsciously comparing yourselves to others by seeing where they are in life, their likes, how they look etc. is so unhealthy. If you’re on your phone 24/7 , that can definitely take a toll on you mentally. Take the breaks you need!

Jan. 17 - Spontaneous trip to paradise sounds quite nice right about now

Jan. 20 - Damn, LA really makes me feel like I’m going crazy sometimes

Jan. 22 - It’s Now or Never baby

Jan. 25 - YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE SO HAVE AS MUCH FUN AS YOU CAN WHILE YOU CAN. LIVE YOUR LIFE TO THE FULLEST

Jan. 27 - My inner emo shows more and more everyday

Jan. 29 - Rather be respected by few than adored by many

The key is being different from others, but holding a certain confidence about who you naturally are

Jan. 30 - Just wanna see what’s going on in that special mind of yours.

Jan. 31 - People don’t think I get any sleep when in reality I probably sleep too much MY DARK EYE CIRCLES HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THERE OKAY!?

Feb. 2 - Even though I may not be able to talk to every single one of you personally, I just want you to know that I’ll always be here for you. You mean so much.

Feb. 5 - You ever just wake up and feel like going back to sleep for the rest of eternity cause same

Feb. 6 - You gotta focus on yourself in order to be the most successful you can be

Feb. 11 - Waste the day away with me

Feb. 12 - Being alone with your thoughts for too long can be dangerous

Feb. 14 - 🌹🌹🌹 Here’s some roses if you didn’t get any this Valentine’s Day. #cheesy

Feb. 17 - You can’t miss what you forget

(fun fact he tweeted this same thing last year too... is he okay?)

Feb. 18 - @/KyleeCarterrr : i love you.. just in case someone hasn’t told you today

@/KyleeCarterrr Thank you. I love you too 🌹

Feb. 20 - I believe everyone has a purpose. Why else would you be alive ?

Feb. 22 - Single doesn’t mean I’m looking for somebody 🤷🏻‍♀️

Feb. 25 - A deep mind is so much more attractive than a pretty face

Feb. 27 -Life’s too short to wait for the perfect moment. If you wanna do something, do it. If you wanna talk to that special him/her, do it. If you wanna pursue a crazy dream.. DO IT. Don’t miss out on YOUR only time here on earth.

One day you're gunna find that one special person who loves all the weird things you do

I think my problem was that I was caught up in the idea of you, not the reality

(oooof, i felt this one lol)

March 1 - I love it when people say “You’ve changed” cause it reminds me that I’m human and always experiencing new things.

March 5 - Never settle for anything YOU DONT DESERVE.

March 6 - there’s so many nostalgic memories in music

March 7 - you’re not a stranger if you’re always on my mind

March 10 - You are your WORST critic.. Sometimes I gotta remind myself not to be so hard on myself, it’s not worth it. People don’t pick apart things about you like you might

March 12 - Getting past security to get into abandoned places is becoming second nature

March 18 - I think I’ve realized that I’m a living meme

March 24 - Crazy how things change. People come and go so fast. Feels like you’re living multiple new lives, meeting someone so important one year and moving on to others the next

March 29 - I just wanna sleep. All the time

sometimes the silence means everything