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fortheloveofdeaddove · 7 days

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NEWLY FOLLOWING FORTHELOVEOFDEADDOVE?

Lots of new followers due to all the Freak floatin' around here on Fridays. All are welcome, all are welcome (except childruns, keep thee away from this den of horror).

A PSA for all ya'll if you didn't check out my welcome post before you hit "follow" (why would you do that silly).

This is "A Blog" (pronounced AYE-BLAWG). It leans hardcore for the porn. It leans left ('Murican) for the politics. I advertise and complain about my fic writing here - all of which is Dead Dove content.

What is "Dead Dove"? Dead dove is a warning label (tag) for creative works that implies that you will find exactly what is labeled on the box. It tends to imply extreme/hardcore/dark/bizarre content, but in its most basic definition, even a My Little Pony gen fic about Twilight Sparkle racing Rainbow Dash could be a Dead Dove fic, if it was tagged "gen", "spice of life", "fic about racing", because that is what you would find in the fic.

I ramble A LOT about my mental health and wellness recovery. Substance abuse, bi-polar disorder, and religious (Pentecostal flavor) and childhood trauma. I discuss Dialectical Behavioral Therapy and traditional Indigenous practices in place of traditional 12 step, among other things. I am raising my one Spawn as a single parent. So that's what I talk and reblog about for mental health/personal stuff.

Porn on Fridays as I'm sure you noticed. It's the exception, rather than the rule. But to be fair I do reblog over 100 posts every Freaky Friday.

Historical harem dramas, Supernatural, select anime, LotR, and Homestar Runner fill in the rest of my brain space.

I'm not looking to hook up, messages of that nature will be ignored so don't bother sending. Feel free to chat me up about anything else, even NSFW headcanons.

IF YOU FOLLOW ME, I MIGHT FOLLOW YOU (if your blog is, y'know, GOOD, or it has particularly good porn I could reblog). Don't come into my house, like 22 posts, follow me, and then as soon as I follow back, unfollow me.

Actually, I'm just joking. DO do that. Respect your own boundaries I beg you.

Some context: someone must have thought my blog was one thing and liked a bunch of the porn posts, then realized it was not JUST that after a closer inspection, and was decidedly not for them. Be safe on the internet and do what's best for YOU. It's okay to be mistaken, lol. I happened to be online when it happened, otherwise I wouldn't have clocked it. And now I have to overthink it.

In the realm of overthinking and taking this too personally, I worry that they saw me follow them back, and thought I was going to be a creep. And I AM a creep. But not that kind.

I'm sensitive about being perceived by younger adults as some kind of perverted mouth breather. Because while it may be completely, 100% accurate, don't think so highly of yourself. Main character syndrome (which is something I've never ever ever suffered from a day in my perfect life) much? I love acrylic nail designs and so one time complimented the teenage cashier on her nail job. I swear she wanted to call Chris Hansen. Its not about you, pumpkin-boo-boo, it's about the nails. If I followed you, it's not because I want to hit on you.

I much rather prefer to victimize the fictional characters in my stories, thank you very much.

And that cringey over-sharing should deter all the people it's meant to, and anyone who sticks around after that rant probably belongs here. Welcome. :)

#Dead Dove Speaks #blog psa #personal ramblings

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fanartfunart · 3 years

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Time and Time Again

A little fic about if Ocarina of Time was a big time loop instead of splitting the timeline. (& if Link met himself)

The sky was a hazy orange in Hyrule. The sun was a glowing pale orb behind the clouds of smoke. It choked his lungs... It was nothing like Termina. Unfortunately, it was exactly like his memories. Link stared up at the sky, fiddling with the edge of his backpack.

He glanced in the direction of the Korkiri forest. He hadn’t been back for 7 years... Guilt pricked at his chest and his throat. But he couldn’t go back now. He didn’t want to know what would happen if he did anything to change things from what he remembered. It hadn’t worked out well when he was still a child, why would it now? He sighed. Shaking his head, he walked towards Kakariko village.

He didn’t know why he was here, really. To confirm he didn’t leave Hyrule on it’s own? That it wasn’t some elaborate dream?

He reached into his bag. His old childhood tunic was tucked deep down into his backpack, full of sewn up holes and threadbare patches. Instead, he’d been dressed in a tunic from Termina. (Actually a blue vest that he'd stiched together, unused to the shorter shirts that Hylians so often wore) He imagined that’s maybe why no one in Kakariko recognized him.

He layed out some of his bottles of spring water from Termina in a row. He frowned as he looked through his bag, the Ocarina of Time missing. He glanced at the Fairy Ocarina, taking it out with the rest of his supplies. A few curious people wandered over, watching as he pulled out food. He smiled and waved.

An old man wandered over to him, "What a cute little display."

Link rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. The old man picked up an apple with a smile.

"Oh, I haven't seen one of these in a while, how many rupees?-"

Link shook his head and pushed it towards him, "All free. I'd just prefer to keep the bottles."

"Very kind of you, young man." The old man smiled and gave him a hearty pat on the back. Link coughed from the strength of it. He gave him a small smile in return as the old man walked off to do his advertising for him.

He sat back, playing the Fairy Ocarina, watching as people hesitantly took what they needed. ...He resolved to collect more things later.

The sky had slowly shifted to a more peaceful blue as the night edged closer. It was quiet. He sat on the roof of Impa’s house, dangling his feet over the edge.

He saw them walk into town. He felt time in the town slow with their entrance into town. He didn't really notice it when he was young; the gentle aid of the Goddess of Time. He assumed a lot of those magical things were normal (they were certainly explained to him like they were). He saw it now, though. Like a overly familiar, comforting blanket. His past self's presence, however, was like a itch at the back of his neck.

He didn't plan on talking to him. Or drawing attention to himself. He imagined it wouldn't help. Not worth the potential dangers.

He should have guessed Navi would notice a strange person on a roof. The fairy flew over to him, curious. His younger self turned to watch, straining to see what she did. She picked up speed. Getting closer than he expected she would. (Did she always use to hover this close to strangers when helping him talk to people further away?)

Navi stared at him, and...smiled. Soft.

She recognized him.

A falling sensation flipped his gut. He nearly genuinely fell, gripping the edge of the roof to ground himself. She actually recognized him. Any voice he had before was gone. Replaced by the fact that she recognized him.... By how much he missed her. A carved out hole in his chest.

She turned back as his younger self walked up to the building, tilting his head.

"What are you doing up there? Are you stuck like him?" His younger self called. He pointed at the roof the strange man had always been on.

Link swallowed and shook his head.

Navi spoke for him, just like she used to when the world was too big and too much. "No... I'm just watching the world go by."

"Oh! Okay! Have fun!"

"W-Wait!" Link called, voice cracking. He was getting the strangest version of deja-vu. Except everything was reversed.

He used to think this age... this ambiguous age he wasn't quite sure the actual number for was anymore- meant he was an adult. He didn't feel like an adult now. He couldn't imagine how young he actually was back then.

The green clad boy looked up at him, waiting, just as he was asked.

Link took a moment to gather his thoughts. "You... You're a child of the Forest, right?"

"...How did-"

"Never mind that, you'll... find out."

He could hear his voice echoed, memory and present blending in strange harmony. (Did he really sound like that to other people? He could've sworn his voice was deeper).

Link took a breath, "Um, make sure to tell your friends, hi. Give them a big hug. For me. I used to know some of them."

"Oh, really?! What's your name?"

Link picked at the shingles of the roof, frowning, "You can call me Grasshopper... One of my friends used to call me that."

The young boy tilted his head, then shrugged. "Okay Grasshopper!"

"And kid? ...Don't forget to be young again every once in a while... It'll be over before you know it..."

"...Ookay?" His younger self muttered, clearly confused. Link guessed it was a reasonable response....

His younger self looked exactly like he did now. They looked the same age. And yet... He was so young. It was just an illusion of maturity. He wondered if there was any older version of himself looking back at him now and realizing he was just...so young.

He sighed, "Stay safe out there, okay kid? ....If you need any tips about anything, come find me."

"Uh...I'll try. Er. Bye!" His younger self waved and Navi hovered next to Link for a quiet moment longer, keeping an eye on the retreating boy.

"Navi," Link said, in a hushed voice. She looked at him. His voice slipped from him once again.

"I know." She whispered back. She bumped his shoulder and he smiled a little.

"Mn..." He cleared his throat, hoping to clear the block on his voice with it, "You better make him rest more often... my sleep schedule is still wonky."

"You and I both know how hard that is. Once you have a goal in mind, it's hard to stop you."

Link laughed, shrugging, "Can't help it, I guess."

She shook her head, part exasperated, part fond. She tapped his head, "It seemed you turned out fine... I guess I better help that happen."

Link snorted and glanced towards the retreating boy. "Yeah... goodbye, Navi." He muttered, feeling a weight lift from his chest as he uttered those words.

She nodded, "Goodbye, Link." She zipped away, bopping his younger self on the head when she got to him. Link guessed probably in response to whatever bad plan he'd already begun concocting.

Link felt something wet leak down his cheek as he watched them leave. He really had said goodbye to his childhood now, hadn't he? He flopped onto his back, looking at the stars.

He frowned, blinks of memory drifting up into his the forefront of his mind. "Oh by the Golden Goddesses, now I got to stay in town for a year so he can come ask me things don't I?"

#loz link #loz navi #navi #oot #orcania of time #loz #legend of zelda #fanarts fanfic #time travel

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 5 years

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"Don't make this harder than it already is " with an Unhinged Narancia ot Giorno.

I hope Narancia isn't too ooc in this while still being a little unhinged.

I also made it gender neutral.

Subtraction

(Yandere Narancia Ghriga X Gender Neutral Reader)

You looked at the text on your phone to see if you were at the right address and you were. You were honestly a little shocked how could you have ever been chosen as a tutor for a household as extravagant as this. You felt a lump grow in your throat as you walked closer to the door. You had absolutely no idea who you were dealing with. Today was going to be you first meeting with the child you would be tutoring.

Why were you tutoring? Because you needed to make a few extra dollars while you were in university, so you had placed numerous posters out advertising yourself as a tutor for children from six years old to thirteen years old. For weeks you hadn't gotten a single call about it until yesterday and thus is why you were here now.

You stood in front of the door, you brought your hand up to the door but you just couldn't knock it.

'God (Y/n) what are you so worried about!' You mentally screamed before bringing yourself to knock the door.

It seemed like only a second before the door was opened.

"You must be (Y/n)" a voice not belonging to the man that called you said. The voice belonged to an albino male who wore a red suit.

"Yes I am, and who may you be?" You asked him.

"I'm Pannacotta Fugo, Narancia's old tutor" he snarled as he rolled his eyes.

"Oh" you mumbled. As you stepped inside.

"So how is Narancia? Just so I know what I'm getting myself into" you asked with a wry smile.

"He's claims that he wants to learn but he never puts any effort into his learning" he huffed.

"Well I'm sure that with the right approach he'll learn" you said, trying to keep an optimistic view.

"Who are you to tell me that I haven't been trying!" He snarled at you.

"I'm not saying anything like that" You squeaked as you backed away from the platinum blonde male.

"Who the hell's this?" A ravenette teen asked as he approached you both. You were a little confused by their appearance, some of their features were very feminine while others were more masculine.

"My name is (Y/n), I'm here to tutor Narancia" you said. The teen pulled an expression of disgust.

"Ugh I've had enough of all of this tutoring" he groaned.

"Umm could I talk to the head of the household" you asked Fugo.

"I know he isn't in the year range you advertised but I'm sure that you'll have no problem tutoring him" a voice familiar to the man who called you said. You turned around to see a tall male in a white suit and short black hair.

"I'm sorry but... I only have worksheets from grade one to seven" you replied.

"Narancia, Fugo. Could you please leave me to talk to (Y/n) for a moment" he asked and the two teens left without a word.

"I understand that you only work with primary grade students but Narancia hasn't attended school for a majority of his life, I will admit he isn't the brightest and he acts rather childish" he began to explain.

"I've come to realise that Fugo might not have the right approach to teaching him, that's why I called you" he continued.

"I will pay you extra for the trouble if that's what you want" he said before you even had a chance to speak.

"I don't want to sound greedy or rude but how much more are you talking about?" You asked.

"An extra €50 for each lesson"

"I'll take it" you said as you walked to a large table before taking a sheet out of your bag.

"Narancia you can come back" the male called.

As Narancia walked in he huffed when he saw the sheet. He sat next to you without a word.

"Don't worry Narancia I'm not going to ask for you to much of today" you said with a smile.

"Think of this as an introduction, I get to know about you and you get to know about me" you explained, which seemed to ease him a bit.

"The only work I'm giving you today is this sheet, just write down the answers you think are correct don't think you have to get them all correct, this is just to find out what you need to improve one" you said as you handed him the worksheet. You then noticed as Narancia started the worksheet that Fugo watched over the poor boys shoulder like a hawk.

"Fugo why don't you sit down next to me?" you asked as you pulled the chair next to you out. He simply ignored you as he sat next to Narancia.

Minutes passed as Narancia went through every question on the sheet with not a word said.

"Done!" He chimed as he handed you the sheet with a sparkle in his eyes and a grin on his face. You quickly skimmed over each question. Most of these answers were completely wrong. He was at grade three level at the most.

"So how did I do?" He asked in a sly tone.

"Ummm... Alright, but I'm a little confused as to how the answer to 20x13 is 160?" You said as you watched his bright look fade.

"Are you kidding me? We did this exact problem yesterday!" Fugo screamed as he grabbed Narancia by the hair before slamming his head into the table.

"I told you the answer yesterday!" He continued as he was about to slam his head in again before you grabbed Fugo and pulled him back.

"Stop it, your gonna hurt him!" you screamed as you held him back from hurting Narancia.

Narancia looked at you with a blank expression. He was dumbfounded by the fact that you had helped him rather then just simply watching. He began to see that your sweet charisma was just something unlike anything else. He began to admire your features, you were beautiful. He was just so encapsulated in his thoughts about you that he hadn't realised you approaching him.

"Narancia are you alright?" You asked the dazed teen, which seemed to bring him back to reality.

"Y... Yeah I'm fine" he stuttered in response, unaware of the blood dripping from his nose.

"Oh no your nose is bleeding!" You gasped as you grabbed tissues from the nearby table and wiped the blood away.

"No wonder Fugo couldn't get you to learn, how are you supposed to feel encouraged to work on your maths if this is how he reacts" you said.

➖➖➖

After a few weeks he had grown to really like you being around. You were smart but also very kind and understanding. You always tried to grab his attention with thingt that you called 'visual aids' or 'practical examples', like teaching him how percentages and decimals were the same as fractions by bring in a cake for him to divide.

Each week he grew to be more excited for you to come. He would wait the whole day for you to come, like a dog waiting for their owner to come home.

Unlike most other people you had actually tried to understand him. You seemed to pick up on all his interests. He aspired to be smart like you but he also began to admire you, he felt like butterflies were fluttering in his stomach when he was around you.

But like all good things... It had to come to an end.

➖➖➖

"No (Y/n) this can't be my last lesson! There's still so much more you can teach me" the ravenette pled as he held onto your arm.

"I'm sorry Narancia but I really need the time to study, I have so many exams and tests coming up" you explained as you tried to leave the house.

"But you can't leave me!" He whined like a child as clung onto you like a dead weight.

"Why?" You asked.

"Because I love you!" He accidentally blurted out, his face turning red as he realised what he had said.

You looked at him, you couldn't deny that he was cute and all but you just couldn't see you and him being in a relationship and you also couldn't just have a relationship when you had so much of your time committed to your studies.

"Narancia, that's really sweet of you but I'm sorry" you said, gloom casting over his features.

"It's just I'm not really looking for a relationship right now, ok?" You explained to him.

"Ok then... I understand" he mumbled as he let go of you.

"I'm glad you understand" you said as you exited the door.

"Good bye" you said before vanishing.

He just stood at the door I awe. He felt all those lovestruck feeling go topsy turvy. His stomach seemed to drop and his heart felt like a bullet had gone though it.

'They rejected me' he thought.

'No this can't be possible, they can't just reject me'

'I need them' his mind went into overdrive as he processed what had just happened.

'your not going to just let them abandon you too, are you?' a dark voice whispered in his mind.

➖➖➖

You walked back to your dorm with a heavy heart, you just hoped you hadn't let him down to hard. You suddenly a strong gust of wind brushed past you, you looked for the source but failed to see or hear the small plane that hovered around you.

You continued you walk until you were stopped by a familiar face, your classmate and good friend Alex.

"Hey (Y/n), how you going?" He said.

"I'm good" you responded

"So are we still studying tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah I'm just going to get some groceries and then I'll head over" you replied with a smile.

"Ok, I'll see you then" he said as he hugged you, unaware that a pair of eyes glared at him with malice intent.

"There's no way in hell I'm fucking letting you take them away from me"

➖➖➖

You knocked on Alex's door but he didn't respond. You knocked again and still no answer. You turned the door knob and it wasn't locked so you opened it.

The dormroom was so dark. All of the curtains were closed and not a single light was on.

'maybe he had just gone out quickly and forgotten to lock the door' you thought until you saw something small near his bedroom door. You closed the door before you walked up to it, a hand between the door and the doorframe.

You opened the door and turned on the light, regret kicked in.

Alex's bloody body laying lifelessly on the floor, blood splattered across the every inch of the room. You screamed as you ran to the door but before you could even wrap you hands around it some unknown force knocked in straight off.

"I'm sorry... If only you had said yes this wouldn't of happened" an a familiar voice said. You turned your head to see a a figure whose face was hidden behind a hood.

"Na... Narancia, is that you?" You stuttered. The figure took off his hood and turned the light on.

"Yep" Narancia said in a sickeningly sweet tone and a innocent smile on his face contrasted by the blood that covered him.

"Why... Why would you do this?" You asked.

"I did it for us (Y/n)" he simply responded as he walked up to you.

"Us!?" You questioned as you backed away from him. Eventually he cornered you.

"I didn't want you to leave me... Your so sweet and caring towards me" he explained.

"That isn't a reason for you to commit a murder!" you screamed.

"That guy was trying to get in your pants!" He yelled back.

"I'm sure that all that scumbag wanted from you was a quick fuck!" he continued

"Your deranged!" You yelled as you pushed him away and tried to find another way to escape, which was cut short by three shots to the leg which sent you tumbling to the floor. There had been no sound or bullets but something had shot you.

"Don't make this harder then it already is" Narancia mumbled as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

"I don't want to have to make a massive scene..."

#yandere #yandere jjba #yandere x reader #narancia ghirga #writing prompt

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theprivacypolicy · 6 years

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Melania, Her Problematic Jacket and Having A Seat At The Table.

I am going to use this opportunity to talk about having a seat at the table. Because, besides the obvious rage, this is what came to mind when I saw this image.

For the record, I worked at Zara for a summer when I was 19. Worst job ever. I am terrible at retail, it is a hard job. They make you buy Zara clothes to wear on the floor. I couldn't afford them so I would wear the clothes and then secretly put them back at the end of my shift. You weren't allowed to sit at any time during your 8-10hr shift. Only on your 30 min break. There as a small break room with two chairs that were usually taken by the one straight dude that worked there and whomever was his conquest of the day. They would flirt over McDonalds meals, never offering room for anyone else to sit. So gross. So much hair gel on dude. I would stack up boxes in the stock room so I could hide behind them and take cat naps. Retail is hard work. I will always rehang duds after I try them on. But ANYWAY...

I don't know if the jacket was a choice by Melania, a PR person, a stylist. Whatever. I don't really even care. This reminded me of the countless times, I've felt the urge to mention, outloud, when I notice something that isn't right. I work in advertising as a film editor. I edit mostly commercials and branded content. I am often asked to manipulate footage and sound to evoke emotion and lend perspective. By the time they get to my desk, most of the ideas have been discussed by a creative team, a strategy team a whatever-the-fuck team. A shit ton of well paid people have read and thought and looked at the idea before it gets to my edit room where I get to make it come alive. And I do. And it's kind of fucking cool. But in my 14 years of this shit, I was so silent. There is so much implicet bias in advertising. There is also straight up intentional bias in advertising. But I am talking about the implicit kind. For a majority of those years I worked at post houses or production companies where the folks coming up with the ideas were our clients, and were to be treated as such. I couldn't just blurt out to this team that their idea for "XYZ" seemed racist or sexist or homophobic or agist. I could only argue so much when they would insist on adding a shot of a skateboarder to the scene to play up "hip youth" factor. A soft example. But, I would casually joke that the fact that the skateboard had no scuffs on it is a dead give away that this is not a real skater and if you are trying to appeal to a particular niche, thats going to be a fail, dawg. The idea was sold, the commercial was shot, contracts signed, they were already there, making the thing. I would do what I could to impart my perspective while exercising a technical skill. A year ago, I joined the post production team at a pretty well know advertising agency. Much closer to the concept process, I get the opportunity to meet the creatives (writers and art directors) as they begin the concept, I get to mingle with strategist and developers and hear about the inception and research and execution of ideas. Sometimes we help flesh out those ideas before they are even shot. In a moments of both exclusion and inclusion, I realized this is an opportunity to be heard. I have a seat at the table and I need to take advantage of that.

I was working on a commercial that would air during the NCAA championships. It was about basketball, featuring images of the various basketball hoops in Harlem. We were using a music track called “Harlem Shuffle” which was over 2 mins long and needed to be cut down to :30 seconds. The agency producer decided to send that track to a mixer to make a cut down. I was wary. I am also one of those people who often thinks I can do a better job than most. But, I welcomed the help because I was under serious time constraints. Welp, exactly what I suspected would happen, happened. The mixer (not knowing the context in which the song would be featured) decided to keep in the lyrics "you move just like a monkey". Yup. It is true. I had to call it out. But it fell on deaf ears. I was the only person of color on the project, well, the only AMERICAN person of color on the project. I don't know if the Dutch dude with the same complexion as me would know you cant be tossing around the word "monkey" on a basketball themed commercial. I had to explain that there is inference if we use that. At first, the producer didn't understand. He said "well the creatives like it, I don't think the person who wrote the song meant to infer that". OK bro. I really don't care about the fucking song writer here. It means something. Especially on this spot. Maybe that was hard for him to see, but i persisted. Wink wink. I recut the track. And eventually, he heard me out and went with my version. I don't know how he explained it to the creatives. Good thing I was there because who the fuck knows how high up this would go and if anyone who failed the paper bag test would be apart of the approval process before it going to air. It is totally possible it could have gone to air with those lyrics. That would have been pretty fucking problematic for the very very well known brand. Or even the agency. I am not saying I saved the day, I dont feel like I did. But i am saying sometimes it seems easier not to make noise, but what a waste of life to be that person. It is important to be loud when others don't hear what is happening. And I mean this on the smallest of scales. Because, it is there were change can begin. At the very least, someone might learn a new thing.

When I see something, I say something. Don't get me wrong, I don't always say it very eloquently. I am working on that. Yesterday I called David Spade and asshole at a screening where we shared recent work I edited that promoted his new book. I was amongst work friends, but still. Not particularly professional. Here is what I am getting at. I have the opportunity to call shit out. And I do. I notice when there is no brown people in a commercial. not EVERYONE can notice that. Especially if there are no browns on the team. Do you have the ability to diversify the voices at your table? Because if you do, consider all the nuances, innuendos, lifestyle perspectives, tones that you are missing out on. Do you see some weird fucked up shit and you're like, um" that doesn't look good from my lens" you gotta say something. Because not everyone has the same perception. Unsure how something reads to someone who isn’t just like you? Ask. I am fortunate to work at a place that describes its collective mantra as "Creatively led. Strategically driven. Humanity obsessed". That means, I need to continue to be vocal in that space. They’re literally asking for it.

While the Trump family is pretty fucking evil, I can't imagine Melania picks out her own wardrobe. Or even looks at the back of her jackets. But someone made that decision for her. Wether deliberate or unintentional, someone must have noticed and didn’t say anything. Because I don’t think this move is in their favor right now. Either way, she’s surrounded by idiots. I imagine someone on the team was silent, but knew this would cause a stir. Maybe the silence was on purpose. I honestly think her stylist and PR team are too dumb to notice it being a bad move. Maybe there was, like, one person who was intentionally trying to fuck with her by having her wear that jacket. Maybe the person who noticed it was problematic, was too sacred and kept their mouth shut. It took a lot of people to orchestrate whatever the fuck that was. Or maybe it’s pure evil with extra creative thought. I don’t want to give her that much credit. We dont know where the intention lies. But this is a great example of the power behind perception and impact of being vocal or non vocal. Soon we will see how Zara spins this. I hope they have more chairs in the break room now.

#zara #melania trump #aseatatthetable #immigration #diversity #bias #inclusion #detention #detentioncenters #ice #suckmydickfromtheback #trump

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pulchrabelle · 7 years

Note

Do all the ask me questions! Or if you don't want to do all, just the odds

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say?

-well this was bound to happen eventually

2. What’s going on between you and the last person you kissed?

-????? no clue?????? maybe we’ll date??? mostly we just make out when we get drunk

3. If your boyfriend or girlfriend was into drugs, would you care?

-depends, weed? dont care, cocaine? yeah

4. Is your last name longer than six letters?

-yep

5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober?

-sober

6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up?

-all the time

7. What does your last received text say?

-also i might be. like how long? would it be

8. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed?

-ummmmmm quite a few times

9. Where was your last kiss at?

-outside my dorm

10. When is the last time you saw your sister?

-christmas break

11. What do you drink in the morning?

-water

12. Where did you sleep last night?

-my bed

13. Do you think relationships are hard?

-sometimes

14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you?

-probably

15. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, any problems?

-no we’d probs make out again

16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy?

-sunny

17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you?

-probs but im not aware of it

18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants?

-jeans

19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now?

-i fucking hope so

20. Does anyone like you?

-no clue

21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S?

-yes

22. Is the last person you kissed gay?

-nope

23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand?

-yep

24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?

-yeah

25. In the past week have you cried?

-oh hell yeah

26. What breed was the last dog you saw?

-no clue it was cute

27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower?

-in the shower but only cuz its a public shower

28. Have you ever kissed a football player?

-no gross

29. Do you think you’re old?

-no

30. Do you like text messaging?

-yes

31. What type of day are you having?

-good i woke up at noon

32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced?

-yes hopefully itll happen soon

33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather?

-warm

34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you?

-yes

35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling?

-relationship

36. Are you a simple or complicated person?

-theres no such thing as a simple person

37. What song are you listening to?

-im not

38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it?

-depends39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you?

-yes40. What made you start liking the person you like now?

-they are super cute i like their curly hair41. When did you last receive a text message?

-like five minutes ago42. What is wrong with you right now?

-i am procrastinating43. How well do you know the last female you texted?

-better than i know myself44. Does anyone disgust you?

-yes45. Would you date someone right now if they asked?

-probably46. Are you in a good mood right now?

-sure47. Who was the last person you talked to in person?

-a classmate48. What color shirt are you wearing?

-black and blue49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear?

-yes50. Anyone you’re giving up on?

-yes51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for?

-with my entire being

52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t?

-yep53. Do you like rain?

-yes 54. Do you care if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks?

-nope55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them?

-all the time 56. Do you like to cuddle?

- no i LOVE to cuddle57. Are you shy?

-no 58. Do you get along with girls?

-yes59. Have you dated the person you texted last?

-no 60. What do you carry with you at all times?

-my purse with my diabetic supplies, my phone, chapstick, wallet, keys 61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you?

-yep 62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months?

-yes 63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship?

-no 64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute?

-absoLUTELY65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week?

-im sure

66. How old are the last three people you kissed?

-18

67. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself?

-do them myself im a broke bitch68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print?

-leopard69. Do you have any stickers on your car?

-no my mom wont let me70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?

-lil wayne71. Blackberry, Anroid, or iPhone?

-iphone72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut?

- a long time ago73. Do you like diet soda?

-no74. What color are the walls in your room?

-grey i live in a dorm75. Are you 16 or older?

-older76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars?

-no77. Do you have a job?

-yes im there rn i should be working 78. What are your initials?

-abs79. Did you ever have braces?

-yes 80. Are you from the south?

-no

81. What does your last status on facebook say?

-an advertisement for my schools production of crucible82. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed?

-yeah he just started talking to me again its weird 83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad?

-mom84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?

-no85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters?

-moana86. Do you smoke?

-no87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops?

-heels88. Is your phone touch screen?

-yes89. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?

-curly90. Have you ever snuck out of your house?

-yes91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?

-depends92. Have you ever made out in a car?

-yes93. …Had sex in a car?

-no94. Are you single or in a relationship?

-single :/ 95. What were you doing last night at midnight?

-studying latin 96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks?

-fourth of july97. Do you like the camera on your phone?

-its good but my hands are too shaky98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits?

-yes99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?

-no100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?

-yes101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare?

-no102. Name your favorite Kesha song:

-the harold song103. Do you have any tan lines right now?

-no104. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts?

-nO

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thisaccounthasbeentransfered · 5 years

Text

Project Nebula 1

The hallways were empty. Quiet. Or that's how I imagined. I hardly remember. I sat in the teachers' lounge, coffee mug in my hand, and about hundreds of student journalists surrounding me. How did I end up here?

An exhausting Wednesday afternoon, I walked into my Literature class, eyes locked on the tiles below my feet. I felt isolated from my surroundings. Where was I going? Opening the door, another student shoved me out the way. Hands in his pockets, hair perfectly groomed and out of his face. A smirk crossed his face.

"He popped him!" he exclaimed, "He looked like a goddamn rat!"

"Woah, what?" one of his minions gasped. Soon, everyone crowded his desk to hear this true story. But I didn't believe him. Not an over sensationalized situation only he saw. He propped his feet up on the desk, leaning back in his chair while students caressed his gorgeous hair and hovering over his $800 phone.

And there I was, hunched over, hair in my face, pupils getting smaller every time a student asked who is that? What's their last name? I knew it wasn't real. And Helix knew it, too. The bell rung, and I was the first to leave the room. Speeding down the mathematics hallway, I slowed down once I crossed the mens' restroom. Curious, I opened the door. Nothing but the flickering of the cheap lights. Tangled in my head was the question did that actually happen? Fights happen on the regular at my school. Right as I touched the door handle to exit, I heard muffled gargling from the biggest stall, with a sink and toilet. I quietly stalked pass the mirrors and the other stalls. White and black sneakers peaked from under the door. I knocked on the door. Nothing but a moan. I crawled under the door, holding my breath just in case he was actually just tying his shoes or something.

His oily black hair and pale skin sent a shock to my gut. His shirt pulled over his face make my heart burst. Thick, dark blood drenched everything. That killed me.

"No. . . this isn't real. . ." I pried his eyelid open with my fingers, "Can you hear me?"

"Why didn't you stop him?" the boy labored. His eyes closed and skin felt cold. Like an hand stitched ragdoll, he fell over, head colliding with the tiles. Blood stained my hands. Suddenly, my eyes opened. I was awake. Still in the same spot next to the boy. Still a mess. Somehow, the colors and lights around me, I noticed. My own body, I could move. I felt it was mine. These hands are mine, I thought.

Routy football players stormed into the bathroom like a herd of giant buffalo. I washed my hands in the sink already in the stall,and slipped through them like an ant traveling through grass. The question and my brain marry. The question was a perfect description of everything prior: why didn't I stop—anything?

That same night, I laid on my couch, scrolling through articles and excerpts. Anything with the word "murder" in the title. Nothing about a teenager or a high school. I heard a light knock at the door. Blood drained from my face. A knock at my door who isn't a relative or delivery guy? I opened it. It was Xander. Assistant student body president. His eyes pierced my own. He held a poster rolled up and tied with several bands.

"Peirson, the staff—"

"Peirson? I'm Castor!" I corrected him.

"You look nothing like Castor," Xander reubuttled, "Castor doesn't talk."

He invited himself inside and plopped on the couch. He unraveled the poster, which was an advertisement for the election of student body president. Peirson's name was on it. Peirson Ralston. I sat next to Xander, hunched and hands in fists. Legs crossed and licking my lips, constantly. Like a little girl meeting the lead of a boy band.

Wanting to stroke my ego, I asked, "What do you think about Castor?"

"Never saw his face; it was kind of a hazy childhood memory," he joked, "But I liked him okay."

Everything turned quiet. The trees outside were stagnant. All I could hear was my concerning heavy breathing pattern. I took off my jacket and tossed it on the floor. I observed the poster, trying to spark a conversation from that, but I feel as if he didn't come for the poster. Or me. For Peirson. I sunk into the seat. I picked up my phone, pretending to text friends I didn't even have. Xander jumped up and trudged into my kitchen. He opened my fridge and popped open a bottle of black coffee without looking for half a second. Wanted the snacks, he opened the snack cabinet. A cup, he opened my dishwasher. Not once did he mix up my pots and pans cabinet for seasoning. My eyes were fixated on his. Absolutely stoic. He set his glasses on top the microwave and toyed around with my silverware.

"Why do you have so many scars on your arm?" he asked, pouring the rest of the black coffee into the sink of already clean dishes.

"Um, I—"

"Did someone try to hurt you?"

"I'm not sure."

"I hope not; you're the best president we've ever had."

"Okay..."

I couldn't keep my legs from jumping like an epileptic rabbit. Being in the corner of the classroom with ancient, flickering lights made it easier to mess around. My shirt was soaked in nervous sweat. My hair was as oily as the dead boy in the stall. Weird comparison to say in front another person. I wouldn't even want to say that aloud to myself. I wondered if he was still in the stall. My stomach churned so violently, I couldn't even shower with myself, sleep with myself, or brush my own hair.

During a discussion about criminal justice, I got out of my chair and slipped through the desks. Mrs. Muller didn't even bat an eye. Once I tiptoed out the classroom, I darted to the restroom. I smelled a strong, Spring cologne ahead. And the clanking of expensive chains. Helix. I sped around the corner, but I kept my distance.

"Peirson?" he groaned, and prepared his fist to punch me. Blood boiled under his skin and he shuffled around, grinding his teeth as he spoke, "You lookin' for a another boy toy to mess with?"

"Where's Castor?" I implored, stepping closer.

"I-I don't—," Helix took a deep, hesitant breath, "He's in my car..."

Quietly, he reached into his jean pocket to take out an excessively decorated ring of keys. His back faced me. He pulled on his hair with one hand and clutching the other. I knew he was building up his fear until I left so he could spill it all out in private. Cry to himself. Although, I felt he deserved to feel bad about himself. As silently as possible, I tiptoed out the school through the backdoor. I avoided every janitor and staff that could report me to the office or give me a detention. Helix's car was park directly in front of a garage door where external services would deliver and stock supplies. I unlocked all the doors with the small remote. Every creak of a door made me tremble. Even if there wasn't a body in there, I can't excuse myself if I'm under eighteen. But Helix could.

He was right: Castor was in there. Laying on the cold carpet floor. I crawled into the backseat and shut the door. I wish cars came with curtains. I pulled the body onto the seat, his head drooping like a wet leaf. His skin was warm. I guess Helix had his heater on for a while. His hair was washed and trimmed. He sported a red lettermen Letterman jacket and dark, black jeans. The fact he treated him like a human mannequin sent scenes of mutilated corpses from horror films spiraling in my brain.

"I hated looking at myself in the mirror," I disclose (I'm not sure admitting to a dead person is disclosing anything), "But you look better than how I remember. I look better, I mean."

I imagined him saying, "You were always good-looking."

"Thanks."

"Prez!"

I turned to stone. Every nerve bursted into a trembling mess. . . I stuffed half of him under the passenger seat and covered the rest with my jacket. However, I was still blistering like lava ran through my veins. I turned to look out the window. Two roles of the student body, one girl and one male, scowled through the glass. They both wore thin black sweater vest and matching dress shirt and pants.

"Peirson, it's 9:50!" the girl scolded and pushed up her glasses, who I recognized as the treasurer, Harper.

"Oh, yeah, the meeting and the paperwork...?" I stuttered.

"Check the schedule and prepare accordingly next time."

"Wha—"

"This is the uniform the cheer team wanted you to wear."

She reached into her backpack, and pulled out a uniform resembling theirs. I rolled down the window, and she tossed it through. As she walked away, the male student came up to the window. His face was more relaxed the hers. He had the same strawberry blond hair as Harper, and the same glasses. I believed they were twins, but they had very non similar surnames on their nametags. His read Indigo Lynch. He gave me a seductive smile, although I don't believe he wanted to insinuate anything.

"Don't let her walk all over you; I got that covered," Indigo remarked. His voice sounded as he was just turning fourteen, still trying to adjust to his new, mature physicality. His skin was also just as tender.

"Open the door," he placed his hand on the door handle. My brain was slowly polluted with really weird scenarios of what could happen. It's seemed like everyone I met after I discovered the dead body had a strange aura. As if I could literally hear what they were thinking, or at least the gestures they were going to make. I unlocked the door. Kneeling right next to me in the backseat, he rest his hand on my mine.

In a soft whisper, he promised, "You and I are going to get your old body back!"

I kept blinking and counting my fingers just to remind myself that this was reality. He wouldn't stop staring me in the eyes until I gave him a response. He smile slowly faded.

"I— I just want to know how I got in this body," I stuttered, "I just want an answer."

"Don't worry; meet me at Clock Park, tomorrow so we can talk about this in private."

"What's wrong with our houses?"

"I don't want my parents to hear."

#mystery #death #school #fiction #novel #thriller #psychological #trust #romance #disturbing #unsettling #drama #webnovel

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