#i feel like i remember seeing the latest one was cabin fever or something

[violentlydefending]

big shot

#don't mind me just collecting these for future reference #god. how many of these books are even out there now #i feel like i remember seeing the latest one was cabin fever or something? #okay i just looked it up. good lord #contra.txt #long post #utdr #spamton g spamton #diary of a wimpy kid

[randomfandomnerd]

Sunshine and Shadows-Chapter 8

After finishing his meal, Will headed over to the Poseidon table to take Nico and the others back to the infirmary to see the latest of Clovis’ frankly bizarre dreams. He wasn’t entirely sure what went on inside the son of Hypnos’ mind, and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to know.

When he arrived in front of them, Nico was listening intently to something that Jason was saying, while Percy stole the final fries off of Jason’s plate. Upon seeing him, the three boys turned and looked up. Nico gave him a small smile and Will got a ridiculous warm fuzzy feeling and he felt that he was definitely blushing. Not one to be deterred by embarrassment, Will led the way to the infirmary, gesturing for the others to follow. Nico and Jason resumed their conversation, which seemed to be about finalising details for their sleepover, while Percy bounced ahead like an over-excited kangaroo, pestering Will with questions about what awaited him in the infirmary. Clearly Nico had wanted to keep it a surprise, so Will played along, trying and failing to keep the amused smirk off his face.

Reaching the infirmary, Will swung open the door and held it so that the others could enter. Then, closing the door behind him, he took them all through to the back room, before turning to them and gazing sternly at them.

“You have to be very careful and quiet.

he warned them, only turning to open the door when he was satisfied that they understood. Once they were inside, Will tried to coax the cat out of its little hiding spot, snuggled within the little mountain of blankets. After a while, a tiny pink nose poked out and Percy gave a tiny gasp. Will turned his head and slowly beckoned him over. The son of Poseidon looked thrilled to see the cat,

“Hello tiny friend”

he cooed to the head that was now fully sticking out. Big eyes blinked curiously. Trusting that Percy would be able to introduce himself safely, Will walked over to Jason, as Nico stepped forward to get a closer look. Will looked at the taller blonde. Jason wasn’t really that much taller than Will’s 6’1 but it was noticeable. It seemed that descendants of Zeus had plenty of tall-person genes. Well, being a demigod made the whole ‘genes’ thing a bit weird, but Will didn’t fully understand that, although he knew that Malcolm was planning on doing some research on the subject.

“Are you not going to say hi to the little fluffball?”

he asked. Jason ran a hand through his hair.

“To be fully honest with you, I don’t really have much experience with cats; I wouldn’t really consider myself a cat person. Also I’m a little confused as to why it’s blue. I don’t remember any myths with blue cats.”

Will laughed and shook his head.

“It’s not from Ancient Greece or anything. It’s one of Clovis’ fever dreams.”

Jason frowned, and adjusted his glasses.

“Here I was thinking I had weird dreams.”

he muttered. Chuckling, Will walked towards Percy who had managed to get the cat onto his lap. He waved Jason over. Hesitantly, Jason approached and sat down next to Nico. The cat looked up curiously, before wrinkling its nose and giving an adorable sneeze. The wariness in Jason’s eyes melted away into an expression of utter adoration.

“It’s so fuzzy and cute”

he exclaimed, reaching out a hand in order to stroke it. The cat promptly hopped down from Percy’s lap and trotted over to Jason, nuzzling his hand and purring loudly. Approximately a minute after saying he wasn’t a cat person, Jason was completely won over, tickling his happy new buddy under the chin.

“Should we name you or do you already have a name?”

he murmured, picking the cat up and looking it in the eyes.

“What about Pip, or Berry or maybe Muffin?”

Percy suggested. Nico snorted.

“What kind of person names their cat Berry?”

Will shrugged.

“I’m not sure, but I do know a family friend that has a tortoise called Berry.”

Nico raised an eyebrow at that and Will quickly turned his attention back to the cat in order to avoid being seen blushing. Thankfully, the other three boys were now discussing names. The general consensus appeared to be writing a list and getting the other campers to vote on it, or add any new names they thought would be good.

Will took a clipboard and a blank piece of paper from a shelf that was fixed to a wall at the side of the room. With prompts from the others, he wrote down a list of names, with room for tally marks below, as well as gaps for new names that other campers might add. The current contenders were as follows:

Pip

Berry

Muffin

Cookie

Boo

Link

Buzz

Nemo

Will had to say, it was a very varied list of names, mostly contributed to by Percy. Jason was too distracted tickling the cat, who had clearly become very attached to him, under the chin. Will snorted. Not a cat person indeed. Although the cat was so irresistible that Will had a hard time imagining even Mr D not falling for its charms.

Once it was all written down, the four boys left, Jason in particular looking very reluctant to put down the cat, giving it an extra hug before letting it snuggle back down in its nest of blankets.

✧✧✧

When they were outside, the boys all went their separate ways to their cabins, as it was nearing curfew time. Will took the clipboard with him, planning on asking for name suggestions in the Apollo Cabin before asking the rest of the campers in the morning.

His siblings were all more than happy to help. Lillie suggested Leonardo, while Kayla voted for Berry. Austin, on his way to his shift in the infirmary, grabbed the pen and scribbled Pepper down.

Will put the clipboard on his bedside table, and changed ready for bed, before grabbing his toothbrush and heading to the recently installed (thanks to Annabeth) bathroom at the back of the cabin. Well, when he said recently installed, he meant installed around 2 years ago, just after the Titan War.

After ensuring that his teeth were thoroughly clean, Will returned to his bunk, climbed in under the blankets, and went to sleep.

[A/N: as you can probably tell, I'm terrible with coming up with names. Suggestions for the cat's name are very much welcomed]

Taglist: @rainbow-sheepofthefamily @emava04 @percabethfangirl @nightmareghosts @luna0713hunter @seven-halfbloods @my-apollo-gies

Masterlist (all chapters and the link to read it on Ao3)

#heroes of olympus #rick riordan #riordanverse #trials of apollo #percy jackson and the olympians #nico di angelo #percy jackson #will solace #jason grace #apollo cabin #solangelo

[noahmanskar]

The Best Albums of 2020 (and from the Before Times)

I read a lot of year-end music roundups, and several this year have come with a resonant caveat: It’s been harder to discover new music this year, both because of physical limitations (no shows, no record-store browsing, no chats with friends about your latest finds), and because the way we used music fundamentally changed. It certainly did for me. Rather than serving as the backdrop for a commute or a night out, it created moments of solace from cabin fever while doing dishes, or showering, or running semi-weekly errands. So I often turned to what was comfortable and familiar, songs that conjured memories and feelings to get me through the day. Even on the rare occasions of social listening, the groups I was with drifted into nostalgia — middle school dance tracks, mid-2000s emo, inherited dad rock, even songs from just a year or two ago, when everything was simpler, relatively speaking.

That’s not to say nothing new moved me. There was a handful of albums and songs that were crucial to getting through the doldrums. They soundtracked bike rides, long walks, longer drives and lots of small moments mentioned above. But I don’t think I can think about my favorite music of this year without thinking about the albums of the past that got me through it. Besides, one of the many lessons 2020 taught is that time is a bizarre illusion anyway. (This exercise also lets me write about some recent albums that I didn’t get to write about when they were actually released.

So here are the albums, past and present, that made 2020 bearable. I hope you found yours, too.

Tame Impala, “The Slow Rush”

Tame Impala’s fourth LP came out on Valentine’s Day. That afternoon, Claire and I had a lunch date to mark the occasion before we got on a plane to visit my parents. The night before, we had gone out to dinner with friends visiting from San Francisco and then to a bar, where we huddled next to strangers on a water bed. Roughly a month later, all of this would be unimaginable, and Kevin Parker’s lyrics to “One More Year” would be eerily prescient as we settled into this new normal:

But now I worry our horizon's been nothing new 'Cause I get this feeling and maybe you get it too We're on a rollercoaster stuck on its loop-de-loop 'Cause what we did one day on a whim Has slowly become all we do

The song is really about surrendering to time, and not worrying about it passing in spite of your ambivalence. The opening chants of Parker’s “Gregorian Robot Choir” make it easy to surrender. They carry you into a world where, as the cover art suggests, all that time you were worrying about has already passed, so you might as well dance. At the same time, the songs that follow, like “Borderline,” “Breathe Deeper” and “Lost In Yesterday” make it easy to remember what it was like to dance in a sweaty room with people you love, and to look forward to doing it again, after a little more time passes.

Fleet Foxes, “Shore”

There’s something comforting about the fact that Fleet Foxes released this record on the exact moment of the autumnal equinox. It’s a reminder that nature has its own rhythms that carry on regardless of what occurs in our human lives. They give us a measure of certainty in uncertain times. One of these rhythms — death — looms large in “Sunblind,” an ode to Robin Pecknold’s departed musical forebears: David Berman, Bill Withers, John Prine and others. This song exuding calm acceptance shifts into “Can I Believe You,” which wrestles frankly with doubt and fear.

These tracks contain profound contradictions, but sonically, they're both bright, hopeful and sure. That’s what made this album such a balm in the sixth month of this pandemic, a time of both growing darkness and hope for what might be on the other side. It reminds us that there’s power and beauty in feeling all these things at once.

Lil Uzi Vert, “Eternal Atake”

This one spent two years in label purgatory, but it finally arrived in March to prove Lil Uzi Vert can do it all. He’s at his most versatile here, spitting and crooning, boasting and balladeering. “You Better Move” is an early standout packed with playful nostalgia, including a beat that samples that classic PC pinball game and delightful jabs like these:

Yeah, step on competition, changin' my shoes Green shirt, bitch, I'm Steve, where is Blue? Every chain on, I pity a fool I'm an iPod, man, you more like a Zune Made her eat on my dick with a spoon, ew Versace drawers, bitch, you Fruit of the Loom

Then there are the melodic tracks like “Urgency,” which compel you to hum along even on the first listen. The excellent diversity made it worth the wait for this hourlong journey to another planet.

Sturgill Simpson, “Cuttin’ Grass Vol. 1: The Butcher Shoppe Sessions”

I haven’t spent much time with Sturgill Simpson outside of 2014′s “Metamodern Sounds in Country Music,” and I can’t say I’ve ever listened to another bluegrass album all the way through. But these new cuts of songs picked from Simpson’s catalog are wonderfully enticing. Simpson puts the talents of his backing band front and center, and their harmonies and rhythms illuminate his vivd songwriting in new ways. It was a great introduction to the genre for me.

Fiona Apple, “Fetch The Bolt Cutters”

I got here after the hype, after the perfect 10, after all the year-end number-ones. Fiona Apple lives up to all of it. Her compositions are complex and evocative, the lyrics tender and biting at once. Her artistry is unsparing. The chorus to the title track is already getting stuck in my head, and I can’t wait to spend more time with this one.

Bea Troxel, “The Way That It Feels” (2017)

Almost a decade has passed since I first saw Bea Troxel play. She was in an incredibly talented trio with two of my high school classmates: Maeve Thorne (who has an entrancing solo EP of her own), and Rita Pfeiffer (the violinist on this record). They ended up winning my school’s battle of the bands, and I got to interview them for the student newspaper. Shortly after our senior year, they recorded an album that still outshines most of today’s indie folk. So I jumped at the chance to all three of them again in Brooklyn. 

Troxel’s performance in particular was a revelation. I won’t ever forget how I fell into a trance as she picked away at “Talc,” which exemplifies her gift for natural metaphor. I haven’t stopped playing her record since, and it’s been a constant comfort throughout this year. Her voice is one of a kind, her songwriting is rich, and the compositions flow together beautifully. I can’t wait for more; in the meantime, “The Way That It Feels” will be on repeat.

Travis Scott, “Birds In The Trap Sing McKnight” (2016)

There’s been much ado about the brilliance of “Astroworld,” Travis Scott’s magnum opus, but I have a soft spot for his sophomore LP, where he reached the peak of the spare and heavy sound that started to take shape on “Owl Pharaoh.” There are plenty of sonic layers here, and the ordering of the tracks is a craft in itself — a series of peaks and valleys that glides from the haze of “beibs in the trap” to the climax of “goosebumps” and then into the cool waters of “pick up the phone.” It feels like Scott is guiding you to and from these destinations. The journey is, as The Weeknd might put it, “wonderful.”

Harmonium, “Harmonium” (1974)

One of my pandemic binges was “Letterkenny,” the sharp Ontario-set sitcom with top-notch banter and a great soundtrack full of indie hits and Canadian deep cuts. The fight scenes are elegantly choreographed, but so are the handful of sequences at the end of key episodes that reveal the show’s emotional bedrock. One such scene is set to Harmonium’s “Un musicien parmi tant d'autres” — the main characters are reveling in a bar with their Québécois pals, whom they’ve just helped beat up a rival group. As the song builds to its climactic chorus, leading man Wayne, surrounded by couples, realizes his longing for companionship. Another fight breaks out, but instead of joining in, Wayne makes his way through the slow-motion fray toward the woman he’ll propose to in the next season. (Their relationship later falls apart, but that doesn’t undercut this scene’s beauty.)

This is probably the first foreign-language album I’ve listened to in full, but all of it evokes that feeling for me — the joy of walking through the chaos to reach what’s really important. Not a bad sentiment for these times.

Bon Iver, “22, A Million”

To talk about this weird, dark and brilliant album, I need to talk about “715 - CR∑∑KS.” Everyone I’ve talked to about the third track on “22, A Million” either loves it or can’t stand it. I’m devoted to it to the extent that it was my most-played song on Spotify this year. It oscillates between tenderness and fear, between silence and explosions of sound. The lyrics are an epitome of Justin Vernon’s cryptic poetry. It’s isolated and spare and enthralling and beautiful in its own bizarre way — just like the rest of the album, which is rich with themes of persevering through the darkness in spite of the uncertainty about when the light will appear. Vernon is alone on “CR∑∑KS,” but he’s accompanied by a cacophony of his own voice. As alone as we might feel right now, there’s always someone else shouting through the darkness with us, even if we can’t see them.

#music #2020 #bon iver #harmonium #bea troxel #travis scott #lil uzi vert #sturgill simpson #fiona apple #fleet foxes #tame impala

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Animal (13)

Chadwick Boseman X Original Female Character “Sianna”

Chapter Warning: Cursing, Angst, Plot, Plenty of Words, Slow Burn

Word Count: 2.8k

Note:  I hope you guys enjoy this. By the way, Tumblr is on the BS and flagged every chapter because my old mood board had a portrayal of backshots. LMFAO!!!! So new mood board.

I censored my mood board, let’s see if it gets flagged. LOL

**Loosely edited/Proofread***

Thank you guys for reading!!!  If you enjoyed this please LIKE, REBLOG, COMMENT. ❤️ ❤️

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

-Sianna-

  MSG Mom: You have missed the last several months of Sunday dinners. That is inexcusable young lady. I get that you’re busy, everyone is busy. We are all busy. We all make the time. Why can’t you?

  You’d been staring at the message from her for the last few hours. After the last dinner you’d missed your brothers warned you that she was on a rampage. They told you to expect her call. You dodged the calls but this you couldn’t dodge. It had been months since you made an appearance at the biweekly family dinner. In the beginning, it was due to your insane work schedule and all the time you had to put into establishing your line and brand. Now with the pregnancy, it was terror. You knew you couldn’t show up to family dinner six months pregnant, especially when the last time they saw you, you weren’t and had no prospects as your mother would say.

 If you showed up preggers your mother would have a heart attack at the scandal alone. Your brothers would go into cabin in the woods ax murderer mode, your father would probably understand but be disappointed that you’d rearranged the order of events skipping boyfriend and marriage altogether. Everyone would have something to say and you were nowhere near prepared to handle any of it.

Groaning you dropped back onto your bed and closed your eyes. Maybe if you lied here long enough this would all fade away and you’d realize it was an insane fever dream and you weren’t pregnant with a near stranger's babies, and tackling all of it alone. Five, fifteen, then thirty minutes passed with you laying there in silence without a thought in your mind besides the yoga breathing you’d been learning the last two weeks you’d began Lamaze classes.

 When you opened your eyes everything was still calm, and you nearly forgot everything, but then felt a powerful jab in your abdomen. You shot right up and touched your stomach, the tiny imprint of some body part pressed against your right palm. A smile tickled your lips until you were full-on grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

 “Yep, not a dream. Reality.” You slowly rubbed your belly. Where your hands roamed the movements followed. Soon you were feeling a symphony of kicks all over your stomach and you sat there smiling enjoying every second. It was surreal, yes, but it wasn’t nearly as alarming now as it had been several weeks ago.

 “What are we gonna do guys? We have to get our shit together. Work is great, I can handle work but everything else. How do I even begin to go home to your grandparents and tell them about you? How do I face them? Then what do I do about your daddy?”

 The thought of referring to Chadwick as their daddy made you smile and your heart flutter. It filled you with warmth and more than half of you liked calling him that. He was their father. They had half his DNA and would probably look something like him. You hadn’t thought much about anything beyond being pregnant and having a lot going on. This was the first time you began to think about the secondary things.

 “He has rights, I know that. I don’t want to take them away. I just—he’s so famous and he’ll be even more famous. His career takes him everywhere, how do I know that he can be there for us? You, I mean for you. This has nothing to do with me. Right?”

 The sound of your doorbell broke you out of your monologue. As you walked down the stairs you continued to rub your belly enjoying the kicks, pushes and slithers you felt. It was strange to feel movement inside of you but it wasn’t something that made your skin crawl, it did the opposite. When you looked at the video of the front doorbell you smiled seeing your friends.

 “My God, could you have taken any longer?”

 “Excuse me, I am pregnant and carrying more weight.”

 The three of them walked in past you and made a line straight for the kitchen where you knew the wine was.

 “Girl please, you’re barely pregnant, and the only more weight you’re carrying is that ass,” Ebony teased. You smiled and dipped down to do a baby twerk. The three of them cheered loudly as you fanned them off.

 Once the three of you were seated around your kitchen island Zee was the one to pop the top off the wine bottle.

 “It’s barely three Zee.”

 “Three in LA means it’s well past five in New York,” she responded pouring the golden liquid in their three glasses.

 “None for you baby mama,” Tessa said as she slid a can of apple Izze your way. You rolled your eyes, popped the top and took a sip.

 “I didn’t want any wine anyway.”

 “How are you doing? You’re getting bigger.” Ebony’s hand flew to your belly and rubbed your bump.

 “I’m okay. I am. I think I’m going to have to go into maternity in the next week or two.”

 “Six months, with twins I’d say there are many women who would be jealous at that fact,” Tessa added.

 “What’s going on with the father?”

 “Zee, you can say his name he’s not the damn Candyman. Jesus, Chadwick Boseman. I still can’t believe you met, and popped that pussy for Chadwick Boseman in record time and came away with two souvenirs of your time together. Girl, talk about luck,” Ebony went on.

 “Luck?”

 “Yes, there are plenty of women who would love to be in your position, hell any of the positions he had you in.”

 The three of them snickered and you shook your head but couldn’t keep the smirk off your face.

 “If they wanna be me so bad, go ahead. This is messy.”

 “Have you heard from him since he showed up here to catch you with your new boo?”

 “Another thing, who dates and has a boo while being six months pregnant?”

 You narrowed your eyes at Ebony. She quickly raised her hands in surrender.

 “First of all, I don’t have a boo. Things with Chino are—over. We had a talk after Chad showed up here and he wants to take a step back, he thinks I don’t know what I want and that I should focus on figuring it out.

 “Smart man,” Tessa murmured.

 “So, Chino is out of the picture. I can’t even blame him for not wanting anything to do with me. I’m having babies with Chadwick Boseman.”

 “He knows he can’t compete with The Bleck Pantha,” Ebony chided in her best Wakanda accent. You rolled your eyes; you’d just about had it with her. Zee and Tessa snickered together.

 “Ebony.”

 Again, she raised her hands in defeat. You knew she’d pipe up again with something else to say that was slick and smart.

 “Chad and I spoke, I told him everything and apologized for not telling him sooner.”

 “How did he take it?”

 You finished the can of Izze and went to the fridge for another and took the bowl of cut strawberries out as well.

 “He took it well. There was no yelling or screaming, or tears. It was a calm conversation—surpisingly calm considering.”

 “Anything decided? Does he want to be involved with his babies? Are the two of you going to I don’t know make a relationship?”

 “Will you be moving in with him?”

 Their questions hit you in the face one after the other like slabs of ice. They were questions you hadn’t thought about and definitely hadn’t even addressed. They were way ahead of the game.

 “Guys, chill. We didn’t decide anything. He asked me if I wanted him involved and I had no answer for him.”

 “What the hell you mean you had no answer? Si.” Ebony gaped at you ready to elaborate her outrage but the stern look on your face shut her up.

 “What did you tell him then?”

 “I said I don’t know. Guys, I really don’t know. I know he has rights and all that but not everyone who has kids should be involved with them.”

 “True, but if a man is willing, able and wanting to be there for his offspring, you have an obligation to allow him, especially a black man. Remember those statistics and stereotypes are a thing. He doesn’t want to be part of the fray,” Tessa explained. She was speaking nothing but facts, you knew it.

 “He didn’t say he wanted to be involved. He was clearly in shock. It was a lot to hear and absorb, still pregnant, over five months so, pregnant with twins. It was a lot. We left things with both of us needing to think and really figure out what we each want.”

 “What do you want Sianna?” Zee’s voice was gentle and her hands soft as she held one of yours. You took a deep breath and slowly released it. You didn’t know any more now than you did two weeks ago.

 “I got nothin.”

 “Okay, this was a productive chat.” Ebony rolled her eyes, finished her glass of wine and shook her head. “It’s okay to say you want to be with him. You know that right? It’s okay to want to experience this with him. You can be strong and independent together.”

 “Ebony is right. I know those are foreign words when using her name but in this particular situation, she is right. There is nothing wrong with figuring it out together,” Tessa breeched.

 “I have an idea. Maybe the two of you should spend some time together. It will give both of you an opportunity to get to know each other better hence seeing where the two of you are mentally. It should give you some form of an idea what would work and hopefully, that will make it easier to figure out.”

 The four of you sat there thinking about Zee’s idea. It was a good one, a really good one. The kicks began again, and you touched your belly. “You guys wanna feel?”

 All hands flew to your belly and the next ten minutes were spent oohing and aahing over the kicks. After the four of you burrowed into the couches and found a Netflix movie while discussing baby stuff. They were excited for the babies and it showed with how long they were able to talk about it without even mentioning a club or even any of their latest conquests. The more you listened to them the more excited you became.

By the time seven rolled around they’d left and you were alone again. This time you were sitting in your tub trying to get a head start on your schedule for the next day while getting distracted with baby websites. You’d just finished your second bottle of the cherry limonatta you’d just gotten into drinking. It gave you the fizz and sweetness of wine without the alcohol. Who knew knocking the wine for nine months would be such a challenge? That was when your mind ran onto Chadwick. In truth, he wasn’t far from your mind at any given moment. You had his spawn growing in you and they’d been very active today.  

 You chewed your bottom lip and opened a new browser window on your iPad and entered his name in google. Yes, you knew about him, who didn’t, but you didn’t know everything. You were curious. As the search results populated the first one caught your eye; an image of him with a brown-skinned woman. You squinted and you could have sworn you’d seen her from somewhere. You tried to think back to where it could have been but for the life of you, you couldn’t place her face. You clicked the article and skimmed its contents. Her name was Simone and they were dating, or they had until at least a couple months ago. You wondered what happened and if you’d had anything to do with it.

 You continued to go through the search results and read through the first page of articles. You’d found out his upcoming roles, recent interviews, and even learned a little more about what was going on between him and Valentina. Every time you saw a picture of them together you wanted to vomit. After thirty or so minutes you’d gotten a lot of information and you’d come to the conclusion that he seemed to be a pretty good guy. Your iPad was now stopped on a very good shot of him. He was a good-looking man.

 Suddenly your iPad went off making you shriek and jump nearly dropping it into the lukewarm water. Chadwick’s name appeared. You froze unsure exactly what to do. After the third ring, you recovered and tapped the green answer button. His face appeared in a dewy white light. Without thinking you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth admiring his handsomeness.

 “Hi.”

 “Hi,” you repeated on a whisper.

 “Is it late? Am I interrupting? Did I wake you?”

 “No, no, you’re not interrupting. I was awake, just sitting in the bath.”

 Chadwick’s eyebrow shot up as he looked below your face. You looked at your image checking to make sure you weren’t turning this into soft porn. The frame caught the cleavage of your breasts but nothing provocative. He’d seen this before. Chadwick shook his head and brought his eyes back to yours.

 “Uh—I’m sorry.”

 “It’s fine. No harm, no foul.”

 Silence fell between you. The two of you just sat there looking over each other’s faces. The silence didn’t feel awkward at all.

“Are you doing okay?”

 “Yeah, I’m okay. We’re okay.”

 “Do you need anything? Pickles, ice cream, hot wings?”

 You snorted and pinched your lips, he thought he was funny with all the pregnant woman clichés.

 “Those are a lot of clichés sir.”

 “I mean clichés had to start somewhere right?”

 You nodded and leaned back, your body coming down from the anxiety it was in.

 “I don’t crave pickles, the only accurate thing there was the ice cream and hot wings. I’ve also recently started wanted a lot of chocolate-covered strawberries. I can’t seem to get enough which spells trouble for my ass.”

 Chadwick smiled and rubbed his hand along his goatee.

 “This is the one time you can unapologetically adhere to the eating for two phrase, so why not?”

 “Well, eating for three if you want to be accurate.”

 “See, play that shit up.”

 You laughed loud, it echoed through your bathroom. Chadwick joined in and you remembered his deep boisterous laugh that was all unique to him. It was a laugh you first heard in Jamaica across the beach before he approached and danced with you. It was a great laugh. Slowly your laughs died down and again the two of you just stared at each other.

 “Do you uh—do you have a good supply of ice cream, hot wings, and chocolate-covered strawberries?”

 You were tempted to read between the lines but decided against it.

 “Finished the strawberries today, you can never have enough a supple of ice cream or hot wings.”

 He nodded and licked his lips. Your eyes dropped to them and again you remembered the feel of them and how he kissed you. You couldn’t remember their taste though. It had been that long.

 “Would it be all right if we met up?”

 “Met up?”

 “Yeah, I thought maybe we could do something, talk.”

 It sounded like he was asking you out on a date, but it also didn’t sound like he was asking you out on a date.

 “Something like what?”

 “Well, I like to stay away from most places in LA.”

 “I can imagine, the Bleck Pentha gets recognized wherever he goes.”

 Chadwick smiled again but looked away as if he were embarrassed. “Go on laugh it up. Get it out.” You smiled and watched him and spoke on pure instinct without thinking.

 “You can come here.”

 The silence returned and Chadwick just gazed at you and looked as if he were in deep thought. You were holding your breath unsure what his answer would be.

“Are you sure?”

 “Uh—I mean only if you want to. If you don’t then I completely understand. You don’t have to; I’m not trying to force you,” you rushed out in an effort to cover yourself.

 “No, no, I never said I don’t want to. I know you’re not trying to force me. I do want to,” Chadwick rushed out overlapping your voice.

 “You do?” The uncertainty in your voice was evident. You were surprised.

 “I mean—yeah.”

 You smiled small but it took no time at all for it to spread across your face.

 “Okay, sounds like a plan then. We’ll—Netflix and Chill.”

 Chadwick’s eyebrows shot up again and you realized what you’d just said.

 “Oh my god. Wait, I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

 He laughed his hearty laugh again and you gave you a “yeah right” look. 

“Oh my god, I’m serious. Jesus, I’ll see you in a bit.”

 You ended the call to Chadwick’s laughter. You put your iPad to the side and shook your head, mortified at your tongue slip. 

~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

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TagList:

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#animal fic #Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman fanfiction #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman x you #chadwick boseman x black reader #chadwick boseman smut #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

[nostalgiaispeace]

1785.

When and where was the last time you took a picture of yourself? sunday i think in my room

Have you ever been scolded by a mall cop? No.

How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? all the time

What’s your favorite thing to think about as you’re falling asleep? nothing

Is there anything that you want to do, but won’t because you’re too afraid? yeah...everything

Who was the last person to yell at you? idk

Who gets up the earliest in your household? The latest? me

Have you ever had a pet walk across your keyboard while you were typing? yeah

What political issues do you think deserve less attention/worry? no politics

Which political issues are you most passionate about? no politics

You’re going to your favorite foreign country; what landmarks do you go see? big ben

What is the longest amount of time that you have spent away from your home? 6.5 months

Did the last movie you watched have any emotional effect on you? sure

What motivates you to go to school? -

How much caffeine have you consumed in one day? a bit

Are you more hyper and up-tight, or laid back and relaxed? a bit of both

When was the last time you heard someone talking about you? idk

How did you pick out your last outfit? i grabbed the top shirt on the pile

When buying shoes, what do you look for in the product? i don’t really buy shoes

What happened to cause the last mess you made? i was cooking

Are you embarrassed to bring people into your bedroom? yeah

When was the last children’s b-day party you attended? idk

Are you good at reading other people’s body language? not really

If you’re sick, do you go to school or do you stay home [ usually ]? -

Does chicken noodle soup really make you feel any better? no

What is one meal that you like to eat whilst sick? nothing

Think of the last survey you filled out; did you enjoy it? sure

Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? yeah

Is it hard to imagine you were ever as small as a 1-2 year old? yes

What set the tone for your mood today? my grandma being in the hospital

Have you ever set out to ruin someone else’s day? no

Has you ever felt like the whole world was against you? yes

The name of the last video game you played? hogwarts mystery

The name of the last board game that you played? i don’t remember

What was the last thing that you told yourself? breathe

How many times a day do you wash your face? one or twice

Do you remember your D.A.R.E. officer’s name? no

Someone throws hot coffee on you; how do you react? i have no idea

Is there a high school or college that you would rather be attending? -

Have you ever lived in an apartment or duplex home? i live in an apartment now

Has anyone ever commented on your weight? too many times

Where do you stand when it comes to sexual intercourse? umm...i like it?

Name a show from the 90’s that you miss? boy meets world

Who provokes your sarcastic side the most? my husband

Have you ever thought about joining the military? yeah

When you were little, did you ever stare at disabled or “different” people? yeah

Could the contents of your bedroom get you in any trouble? no

Do weather patterns sometimes have an effect on your health? yes

If it snows a lot where you live, do you experience cabin fever? no?

When was the last time someone disapproved of something you were doing? idk

How good are you at getting along with other people? i’m okay at it

Do you consider yourself to be approachable? idk

Do you know anyone that’s a little emotionally unstable? yes

Have you ever felt like you were going out of your mind? yes

Has anyone ever suggested that you might need “help”? yes

Do you take offense to things easily? yes

How do you respond to cheesy pick-up lines? -

Do you like to give people a taste of their own medicine? no

How was the service at the last restaurant you visited? good

Are you ever jealous of happy couples? no

Describe a thought that is sticking with you today? i don’t want my grandma to die

Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind? my husband

In a car: air conditioning, or roll the windows down? AC

When was the last time you did anything to your playlist? idk

Is there a new song or band you’ve discovered? no

What teacher gives you the most homework? -

What type of personality do you find most annoying? complainers

Are you punctual? yeah

Have you ever howled at the full moon? No.

Have you ever seen yourself on camera? Yes.

Do you give any consideration to what’s said in your horoscope? no

When was the last time you felt like you were being followed? idk

#me #survey

[eldritchsurveys]

689.

When and where was the last time you took a picture of yourself? >> Mid-November, at the Wayland house. It was technically a photo of me with Ursula, who is a cat.

Have you ever been scolded by a mall cop? >> No.

How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? >> I don’t really catch myself daydreaming. Sometimes I follow a train of thought and get lost, which I guess is the closest thing to daydreaming for me.

What's your favorite thing to think about as you're falling asleep? >> ---

Is there anything that you want to do, but won't because you're too afraid? >> I mean, probably. Can’t think of anything right now, though.

Who was the last person to yell at you? >> Fortunately, people don’t yell at me these days.

Who gets up the earliest in your household? The latest? >> Sparrow gets up before me because she goes to work in the morning.

Have you ever had a pet walk across your keyboard while you were typing? >> Sure.

What political issues do you think deserve less attention/worry? >> ---

Which political issues are you most passionate about? >> ---

You're going to your favorite foreign country; what landmarks do you go see? >> I don’t have a favourite foreign country.

What is the longest amount of time that you have spent away from your home? >> Since I’ve been in this apartment, the longest time I’ve been away from it is 2 weeks.

Did the last movie you watched have any emotional effect on you? >> The Wicker Man was engaging and kind of funny, but I don’t think it was emotionally moving. Great acting, though, especially at the end.

What motivates you to go to school? >> ---

How much caffeine have you consumed in one day? >> Probably a lot, back when I had a high stimulant tolerance.

Are you more hyper and up-tight, or laid back and relaxed? >> I don’t think I’m particularly one or the other.

When was the last time you heard someone talking about you? >> I don’t remember.

How did you pick out your last outfit? >> I just grabbed the first pair of pants and t-shirt I saw.

When buying shoes, what do you look for in the product? >> Good materials, strong sole, stuff like that. Of course I want them to look nice, but I’m not buying shitty shoes just because they’re cute.

What happened to cause the last mess you made? >> What was the last mess I made...?

Are you embarrassed to bring people into your bedroom? >> No, I’m not embarrassed. I’m territorial.

When was the last children's b-day party you attended? >> I recall going to one last summer for a 1-year-old in Sparrow’s family. It was in a park, so that was nice.

Are you good at reading other people's body language? >> I mean, maybe. It’s not a priority for me, though.

If you're sick, do you go to school or do you stay home [ usually ]? >> ---

Does chicken noodle soup really make you feel any better? >> I don’t know, I don’t really like chicken noodle soup so I don’t eat it when I don’t feel well.

What is one meal that you like to eat whilst sick? >> Anything spicy, to clear out my sinuses and shit.

Think of the last survey you filled out; did you enjoy it? >> It was fine. Had a lot of questions I had no answer for, though.

Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? >> When I was young, probably.

Is it hard to imagine you were ever as small as a 1-2 year old? >> Kind of, but also, like... not really. It’s difficult to imagine the state of being a two-year-old, of course, but it’s not difficult to understand that I was a two-year-old once.

What set the tone for your mood today? >> My emotional hangover from last night and my immense disappointment that I didn’t get a dream to help chill Sam out.

Have you ever set out to ruin someone else's day? >> I don’t think so.

Has you ever felt like the whole world was against you? >> Probably.

The name of the last video game you played? >> Elder Scrolls Online.

The name of the last board game that you played? >> Uh... Gloomhaven, way back when?

What was the last thing that you told yourself? >> *shrug*

How many times a day do you wash your face? >> Once, if I even remember.

Do you remember your D.A.R.E. officer's name? >> Hell no???

Someone throws hot coffee on you; how do you react? >> Violently, obviously.

Is there a high school or college that you would rather be attending? >> ---

Have you ever lived in an apartment or duplex home? >> I’ve lived in several apartments and I live in one now.

Has anyone ever commented on your weight? >> Yeah, I got a lot of comments when I was skinny. Mostly favourable ones, as one would expect -__-

Where do you stand when it comes to sexual intercourse? >> Er... like... what lol

Name a show from the 90's that you miss? >> ---

Who provokes your sarcastic side the most? >> ---

Have you ever thought about joining the military? >> Fuck no.

When you were little, did you ever stare at disabled or "different" people? >> I don’t know, I barely remember being little at all, let alone the minutiae of my behaviour.

Could the contents of your bedroom get you in any trouble? >> With who?? Who cares what the fuck is in my room lmao

Do weather patterns sometimes have an effect on your health? >> They have an effect on my well-being, sure. I need frequent sunny days to maintain equilibrium.

If it snows a lot where you live, do you experience cabin fever? >> Kind of. Mostly I experience lack-of-sun fever.

When was the last time someone disapproved of something you were doing? >> *shrug*

How good are you at getting along with other people? >> I don’t know. Passable, I guess, when I have the energy.

Do you consider yourself to be approachable? >> I don’t know if I’m approachable or not. Doesn’t that depend on the person looking to approach me?

Do you know anyone that's a little emotionally unstable? >> *shrug*

Have you ever felt like you were going out of your mind? >> Of course.

Has anyone ever suggested that you might need "help"? >> Like, therapy? Of course. But if they’re not going to pay for it, then who cares.

Do you take offense to things easily? >> No.

How do you respond to cheesy pick-up lines? >> I don’t.

Do you like to give people a taste of their own medicine? >> Meh.

How was the service at the last restaurant you visited? >> It was fine. I’ve never had bad service at a restaurant, actually.

Are you ever jealous of happy couples? >> No. I’m envious of people who can feel connected to other people.

Describe a thought that is sticking with you today? >> ---

Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind? >> Heartman.

In a car: air conditioning, or roll the windows down? >> Roll the windows down, unless it’s just that unbearably hot.

When was the last time you did anything to your playlist? >> I don’t know, I add songs to it on occasion, I guess?

Is there a new song or band you've discovered? >> Dreamcar is a new one.

What teacher gives you the most homework? >> ---

What type of personality do you find most annoying? >> *shrug*

How did you hear about Bzoink? >> I don’t remember now.

How long did it take you to sign up for an account - if you have one? >> Like two minutes.

Are you punctual? >> Most of the time, if I can help it.

Have you ever howled at the full moon? >> No.

Have you ever seen yourself on camera? >> Yes.

Do you give any consideration to what's said in your horoscope? >> I don’t read horoscopes.

When was the last time you felt like you were being followed? >> I don’t remember.

#surveys #survey #random survey

[alloveroliver]

harr anon: harlance complete! :D please do enjoy a little angst~

…

Whispers of the autumn breeze guide a steady winding path through the courtyard of the Red Army’s headquarters, sending a brief shiver down the spine of the two young guards posted at the gates. Each one raises his chin against the unusually cold bite, a firm grasp on the swords at their hips, as if in defiance to Mother Nature herself. But neither one wished to admit to the feeling of being watched. A shiver passes through the bones of the younger, while his superior clenches his teeth to hold back the chatter. No words pass between them, but each would privately have sworn to seeing an edge of tattered cloth pass their vision, the sound of thick fabric flapping in the wind. Their silence allows Harr Silver to breathe easy, knowing his glamour has managed to hold for the night. His left hand traces along the walls of the castle, though he finds he makes no sound over the cobblestone path. As his eye picks out the best method of approach, he allows the air in his lungs to carry him up, until his feet rise effortlessly from the footpath beneath him. The wind is forgiving to him, and Harr doesn’t need to fear it’s current as he walks over the breeze in midair. Windows present little issue to the whim of a sorcerer, and even elaborate locks bend to the will of his outstretched palm.

“Now…where could he be…”

The corridors are hauntingly bare as Harr slinks along the shadows, blending into the darkness like a ghost. All the soldiers were likely tucked into the barracks, away from the higher-ups, or posted out into the wilds where they were likely puffing their chests at their black-clad counterparts. The entire affair had been going for far too long, in his most humble opinion…but it was unlikely one man would be able to change the course of history.

Until some interesting news had fallen into his lap earlier that day.

Loki had swept into the cabin with a feline grin and a fire burning in his mismatched eyes. That sham of a King threw himself into the fray this morning, he seethed, gaze as hard as flint. All around town, they say he seriously drained himself after the battle. He’s weak, Harr.

The words made him pause at his workbench. He had wanted to ask if his apprentice was certain, to make sure that it wasn’t merely the rumor mill working overtime. But Loki…he had never seen the boy so charged, the magical energy crackling in his eyes as he almost seemed to revel in the imaginary violence he would have loved to inflict upon the King of Hearts. He almost seemed to take pleasure in knowing that the enemy was down, a sickening smile on his face as he watched his teacher frown over the map of Cradle on the kitchen table.

So Harr had gathered his cloak and set out to do the impossible.

Even now, he wonders whether his plan will actually work. But there has never been any time like the present, and with this latest bloody border conflict, Harr wonders if time is already running out.

His fingers stop over the ornate handle of what he assumes are the private quarters of the Red Army’s half of the Chosen Thirteen. He swallows back his apprehension, having found no trace of the others nearby. The tick of the clock inside is what propels him forward; with the rising of the sun, he must be gone.

At the sight of familiar blond hair, just peeking over a thick, down-filled duvet, the sorcerer realizes that Lady Luck is on his side.

Lancelot must still be recovering, Harr surmises, judging from the various boxes of medicine and discarded sterile wrappings. Numerous bottles of pungent medicinal syrup line the bedside table, labeled in rushed cursive, the corks haphazardly sealed. Ash must have been trying to preserve the life of his dear King, and Harr couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the young doctor, who probably remained oblivious to his leader’s disgusting core. But upon approaching the bed, staring down, a mixture of emotions yawn at Harr from the depths of his stomach. Lancelot sleeps unaware in his bed, the large wooden frame making him look so much smaller and frailer than he had remembered. They said he was a hellion on the battlefield, powerful and commanding…yet here, he lay curled in on himself like a child. Light breaths left his lips in an erratic rhythm; had the night terrors never stopped plaguing him? But as Harr knelt onto the bed, Lancelot twisted and pulled the covers over his shoulder, the bare skin of his chest concealed. Harr might have only had one eye, but he didn’t miss the criss-crossed marks of a stray blade, their path weaving snake-like tendrils over Lancelot’s flesh. The good doctor had tried to suture and bandage them, but given the blood soaking through, it seemed they were indeed grave. And that familiar flush over the King’s cheeks. The telltale fever of exhausted magic. Harr drew his lips into a tense line. The man who sought to dominate Cradle…helpless as a lamb to the slaughter…ready for any wolf that could stow away into his room and end him. …He could. He could do it right now. There’s something deep and dark in the back of Harr’s mind as he looks down upon the sleeping King. His fingertips crackle and spark with an energy most unbecoming, tainted with a filthier edge than he would dare admit. If he truly wanted it, he could slay Lancelot here and now. Snuff the life out of Amon’s living puppet, end this blasted war or deliver a critical blow, at least. He only needs to reach down…wrap his fingers around that neck…squeeze and squeeze, like there was no tomorrow. The anticipation makes him shiver in revulsion. But he waits too long, swallows too heavy. Lancelot moans painfully, the fever wrenching him from the depths of slumber, and Harr can only watch as those long lashes flutter, and the King returns to the waking world. Lancelot looks up at him almost pitifully, the moonlight illuminating the beautiful blue of his eyes. He stays perfectly still as Harr’s breath catches in his chest, not even a word leaving those lips. His breathing is soft, even; meanwhile the wizard can almost feel how his own heart is ready to hammer out of his ribcage. The blonde makes no move to rise from his bed. He merely blinks, as if to register who exactly has spirited away into his quarters. “I should have known it would be you.” Harr jolts almost. He is surprised by how rasping and worn Lancelot’s voice is, the effects of his magical burden clearer by the second. But the eyes…the eyes frighten him the most. Beautiful as ever, like staring out over the expanse of the ocean. Lancelot had never seen the sea himself, but Harr had confessed that he didn’t need to when such rich shades could be seen in the reflection of a mirror. They had sparkled then, unsure of how to take the compliment, but still pleased regardless. It was pure, like the youthful light once burning in those eyes. Here, lying beneath him like a lifeless doll, they looked dull. Glazed and aimless, Lancelot’s vision was permeated with an unshed sadness. The pain behind them makes Harr’s gut twist uncomfortably, though he raises himself as best he can and forces down his empathy. “I suppose news travels further than I thought, if my weakness reaches your ears,” the King continues, though there is little emotion in his voice. He sounds exhausted, sick of it all. “And I don’t expect you are here to wish me good health.” Harr misses that side of his old friend. The biting sarcasm, even when Lancelot seemed oblivious to it himself. How he wanted to go back… “I wanted to try one last time. To stop you before it was too late.” Lancelot breathes out softly. His laugh is mirthless, a cold and empty one. “Even now, you try to be so soft and sweet to me. And if I were to say no?” “…” “Would you kill me, Silver?” “…If that is what it takes to save everyone.” “Ah. Would you grant me such mercy?” Mercy? “I want peace as much as anyone. I don’t want to hurt you, Lance-” “You know as well as I do. I am never going to stop.” “Lancelot…please-” “There is too much at stake. And you are just going to get in my way…I will do my duty as King, and I will make sure it is done.” The abyss is haunting in Lancelot’s eyes. Harr wants to throw up; he can feel his insides churning, his thoughts screaming to get away, but he holds fast. But even now, his voice cannot hide the horror he feels. “You can’t…you can’t do this! There are so many innocents out there, you’ll sacrifice them to please Amon? What kind of monster are you?” Lancelot snarls, lip twisted to bare his teeth, as though he were about to bite back a retort…a reason…but the words never come. His eyes fill with unbelievable sadness, enough to choke back Harr’s harsh words. “Innocent blood has already been shed. I don’t expect you to understand.” Something roils deep in Harr’s stomach, twisting hot and heavy in the cavern of his belly, and it makes his jaw clench and fists contort. Lancelot looks up briefly at him, only to widen his eyes as he saw the thinly-veiled frustrations held there. Don’t shut me out. “Then make me understand.” The blonde gasps as Harr lunges forward, hands gripping his shoulders and pinning him down. It catches the King off-guard; he would never allow such a move otherwise, the fever has left him weak and pliant. And Harr can barely hold himself together, already on the precipice of spilling over. “Don’t you shut me out again, Lance. Don’t you dare.” The look in his eyes is shocked, a kaleidoscopic mess of fire and ice…and that is before Harr leans down to kiss him. They stay frozen there for a moment or two, trapped in time like an photograph, before the blond winds his arms over the sorcerer’s broad shoulders. He feels how the fever has warmed the King’s palms, burning him with a heat that sends his own magical energy thrumming through his muscles. “I wanted you to understand me back then,” Harr growls into Lancelot’s mouth, tearing the blanket away from the King’s lithe form and covering him instead with the inky material of his cloak. “let me to return the favor.” He runs his hands up and down the heated flesh, cold fingers warmed as they press over a frantically beating heart, and he breathes in relief. He’s not the only one who is panicking out of his mind.

“Let me in, Lance. Please.” How they end up entangled together is confusing, at best. But their instincts guide them closer, hands flush over fevered skin, Lancelot grasping for oils from the nightstand and slipping his fingers within himself. Harr guides them along, words of an ancient tongue leaving his lips as he soothes the pain of Lancelot’s wounds, the pain in his heart, anything to try and win back his friend from the edge. Frantic emotions well within him, hotter and hotter, as desperation seeks to push him to the extreme. And so he slides into the King, their murmurs and groans muffled into the stained bed sheets, and proceeds to thrust. And as he unknowingly burrows his face into the crook of Lancelot’s neck, he fails to see the crystalline drops fall from those blue eyes. Tears are something that Lancelot has been taught to hold back. But the frustration, the unshed agony, it threatens to tear through his skin, rumbling deep in his throat as he longs to scream. Anguish wells just under the flesh, and he begs to have it freed. Maybe, just maybe, Harr can feel it too. But the raven-haired man only bites down harder, pounds into him, grunts into his ear with harsh words. Lancelot feels emotion churning from the sorcerer, hot and angry and yet so very passionate, and the pain is almost scorching. He cries out as the skin breaks on his throat, rakes his own fingernails down the length of Harr’s back, and simpers over the gentle tongue that tends to the bleeding wound. “Please stop, please…stop this,” Harr growls against his ear, mouth hanging agape as Lancelot squeezes around him. The muscles constrict, both of them too wound up to keep this dance up for much longer. “We don’t…have to fight like…this.” He rises up, hands pushing Lance’s thighs further apart to drive himself home. “If you need me…let me help…we can stop this together.” Lancelot thrashes wildly against the bed sheets, but garners enough strength to hook an arm around Harr’s neck, pulling him close. The moan he releases is feral, barely human in sound, but he refuses to let the sorcerer go.

His eyes are piercing. And Harr can almost feel the invisible blade puncturing his heart. “I will never stop.” Lancelot kisses him back, as if to swallow his very soul. Harr sinks down with him, hands wrapped around the pale flesh of the King’s neck, but never squeezing enough as he had once desired. Their bodies shudder and thrust out of alignment, and Lancelot is the first to unravel. Perhaps he had meant their kiss to muffle his pitiful cries of euphoria, but Harr would never know. He can only groan in return, spilling himself over their stomachs.

In that moment, they can barely speak. But Harr feels his heart plummet, empty and forlorn, as Lancelot’s warmed gaze hardens over before his very eyes. Even now, feverish and weak, his smile is cold as the winter’s frost, and he draws his palm over the angry wounds that adorn his chest. Beneath his palm, the glow of magic seals them shut. To Harr’s horror, the blond ignores the screeching pain of his own body, begging for him to stop using magic, until his chest regains its flawless - yet pallid - appearance.

There was nothing he could do to change his mind.

“I don’t fear death, Silver,” Lancelot groans, not even rising from his crumpled bed sheets as Harr begins to slink backward towards the edge of the bed. “you should end me while you have the chance.”

.

.

.

Submitted by Anon.

Anon….. holy shit! This is sooo good! I love how emotion this was omggggg. The angst was beautiful and all the descriptors were right on the nose. This ship is everything. I love it so much I cryyy. Thank you for sharing with us!!! 

I want to give you a big ol’ hug for sending this to me! You are a very talented writer and the world should know! XD

#ikemen revolution #harrlance #harr x lance #harr silver #lancelot kingsley #fanfic submission #submission by anon #submission

[ourforbiddenworlds]

1.1. Paranoia

Time, time, time, see what's become of me

While I looked around

For my possibilities

I was so hard to please

But look around, leaves are brown

And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Seasons change with the scenery

Weaving time in a tapestry

Won't you stop and remember me?

22:30 pm

She dressed in a hurry, putting on an oversized green sweater with a turtleneck and black cargo pants, drying her hair with a towel as best she could and tying it over her head without worrying too much about it.

JFK Airport: The Regis Air Flight 753 Tragedy

Flight 753 departed Germany with 210 aboard including flight crew.

It landed safely before going dark during taxiing.

All passengers feared dead.

She could still hear the tragic broadcast from her bedroom. As she pulled on a pair of boots over her pants, she took a glance around and all the things she had left unfinished the night before. Her desk was full of unorganized papers, open books and used teacups, the clutter of magazines, and even more books and folders piled on the floor. She saw a couple of dirty t-shirts on the back of her chair, and the open door of her closet.

The scene would have been familiar any other moment, but right now was turned upside down by a set of other sensations, causing a sickly emptiness in her stomach, overcome with a horribly inescapable feeling of claustrophobia.

Sighing heavily, she rubbed her tired eyes, and stretched the muscles of her neck with a rotating motion, but she ended up wincing at the painful tension and considered doubling the dose of anti-flu she had been taking during the week. The fever had gone down earlier, maybe that would make her feel better.

"Sorry, I could not hear your question over all that mental noise, can you repeat it please?" He had finished his coffee a long time ago while she continued to read the papers he had passed on to her. Now and after fifteen long minutes, he could not help but be sarcastic due her silence. She did not look up at him, but her lips pressed into a thin line told him everything.

"Are you sure you want this job?" She examined the papers on the table once more, even after knowing he had already decided on the subject and she had nothing more to say.

"Do you doubt me? Look, I called you because you were the first person that came to my mind, you have experience in all this, and already passed all the tests, basically I'm inside."

"And you know I'm not in the system anymore."

She was retired.

She lifted the backpack she discarded on the floor the day before, shaking the dust off of it and then emptied it on top of her mattress. Books fell first, along with the rest; a national geographic magazine, a sketchbook, the remains of an empty pack of snickers, and a rectangular black case.

Opening the case, she looked within, considering again whether it would be needed, or if her paranoia was forcing her to take hasty action.

In another time, in another life, she wouldn't have thought twice about it. But after years of looking for a more peaceful life, she still had the habit, not because of the way of life in which she had been raised, but because she knew it was a necessary evil.

She holstered the small handgun at her waist, hiding it under her sweater, and ultimately wrapping herself in a long jacket, she did so while listening to the reporter's voice from the television, talking about the press conference that the CDC and airport authorities would give in an hour, while the news anchors was speculating about the causes of such a big tragedy might be. A terrorist attack? Accidental decompression of the cabin? Or a lethal virus that threatened to expand from the moment they opened the escape hatch?

The silence of her apartment was interrupted by the occasional noise of a police siren moving away in the distance, or her neighbors continuous chatting and arguing. Someone flushed a toilet on the top floor and there was a gurgling of the pipes.

She thought she might have heard something, a vibration, a buzzing, or even a whisper, but dismissed it with a shake of her head. Her mind, sharp and imaginative, questioned the recent events. This doubt was likely caused by a new wave of fever, or perhaps she was still rattled by the nightmare that had disturbed her sleep only an hour before. Had Nikolay acted correctly by alerting her of the danger? Or was it an exaggeration produced by the collective confusion of the moment?

The street where she resided in Brighton Beach was deserted at that time of night. She secured the lock on her front door with two keys; the neighborhood was quiet, but even so her experience had taught her well one should never trust the appearances of a place.

She lived on the fifth floor, with a fire ladder that zigzagged down to a common patio and a parking lot, surrounded by a large black fence. The building adjoined a three-story grocery store, and both structures were separated by only ten meters from each other. The darkness of the alley smiled at her from below.

Covering her nose and mouth with her scarf, she avoided the smell of contamination. Without making noise, she crossed the outer corridor in great strides and went down the stairs with the same impetus with which she had left her apartment.

Crossing the parking lot with caution so no one could see her was easy at that time of the night, she did not like to attract attention, but she suspected that most residents would not dare to take their eyes off their TV screens, watching in the midst of their morbidity the latest events of the tragedy of the Regis Air.

xxx

She stopped behind a van, almost reaching the huge black gate that someone careless had left half-open. Holding her breath, she waited for the strange buzz to return once more. Skipping down the stairs, she thought it was only the electric generator near the garbage containers, but when a strange sensation overcame her and an imperceptible static vibration hit the hair on the back of her neck, she stopped.

When the sound did not return, and she resumed her march, slower this time, crossing the gate and facing the empty street.

She breathed slowly behind her thick scarf, appreciating the loneliness of the surrounding street. Even after walking several blocks to a main avenue, a persistent tingling plagued the base of her neck. Was she being paranoid?

She stopped once more before crossing the next street. The fog blocking her view. Glancing behind her only confused her doubts; there was nothing there.

The nearest subway station was only a few blocks away, and she hurried on. The shape of the street lights were indistinguishable against the thick, white polluted air; their light was nothing more than orbs. She usually enjoyed walking at night, but the last events left no room for such trivialities.

She glanced behind her one more time, without stopping, as she turned a corner. She tensed and frowned, her nostrils flaring at the sight of… it.

Finally.

There it was.

She caught only a glimpse of it, but she quickened her pace. Not bothering to turn around a third time.

Upon arriving at the Brighton Beach subway station, she decided to take the elevator to the platform, instead of the electric stairs. The station was above the avenue, and from her position at ground level it seemed to be lost in the cloud of pollution.

If that presence was following her to ask her about the weather, it would be better if they did so quickly. When the metal doors closed behind her, she leaned against them from exhaustion, her heart thudding inside her chest. She tried to catch her breath while covering her face with both trembling hands. As the wave of anxiety recede, she quickly looked for her cell phone.

You know more than anyone else, don't doubt that I'll call on you if something happens.

It was only when she pulled it from her pocket that she realized there was no signal at all.

What… when…?

The elevator rose with a metallic and creaking noise. The doors opened and she blinked in consternation at the absolute darkness before her.

A sudden shiver shot up her spine, ruffling the hairs on her nape and replacing every thought in her head with a gripping feeling.

She was more aware than ever of the hanging weight pressing on the right side of her ribs, under her sweater. Wringing her hands inside her jacket, she stepped out of the elevator without waiting for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

Almost immediately the elevator closed its doors and went down again, as if someone was calling for it.

Even at that time of night the avenue and also the platform used to show signs of activity, but in those moments everything seemed suspended in time. She could feel the weight of an almost palpable darkness, and when she tried to expand her senses against it, an alien force fought against her own.

"You're never going to tell me why you retired?" His mouth was full of cookies and she fought the impulse to giggle. Organizing all papers in the folder again, she stared at him over the small table.

"Because sometimes knowledge is a terrible thing, Kolya"

Sometimes you do not want to know what is hiding in the dark. It's better to look through it, and maybe it will not look back at you.

She wrapped her fingers around the handle of her handgun, lingering for a few moments as she tried to squint beyond the thick air, her muscles tensing. She advanced a few meters until she was within walking distance of the train tracks, taking out the gun as she turned towards the elevator.

The silence that followed to the noise told her that it was already there, but her eyes could not pierce the darkness in any way.

The instinct to run was strong, but the anger was stronger. She uncovered her face from the scarf while she pointed the weapon towards the darkness, and with a loud grunt she advanced against it, despite the overwhelming impulse to run, the fear. She called for it, with all the power of her mind, through the disturbance it has thrown over her. Ignoring it was not an option anymore, and she has had enough.

"What the hell do you want, you piece of shit?!"

The train seemed to come out of nowhere and shook the entire platform with its weight. She jumped from the impression as if she had received an electric shock, her body trembling with adrenaline and walking away as fast as she could when receiving the blow of air due to the speed of the machine.

The sudden change of scenery shook her, and she analyzed the situation quickly. The lights illuminated the platform around her, and there were people sitting waiting for the train just a few meters away, observing her weird behaviour with displeasure.

Her head told her that all that had been there, she knew it.

But the reason and logic had to fight against the overwhelming emotions that flooded her first.

The heat and rage that had flooded her body had been replaced by a cold sweat. She breathed deeply, in and out, over and over again until the visual static disappeared and her heart rate returned to normal.

The buzzing in her head reamined, like an invasive vibration she now knew with certainty, was the product of something more than just cautious paranoia. The second nature of her own brain warning her that there was something still lurking around.

She stepped through the train doors when they opened, pushing out of her way the few people who stepped out, while giving her dirty looks. She did not look at them, they were just tired and disinterested strangers, who cared nothing but their own problems.

The wagon was almost empty, and she found a seat quickly, while a young couple near the doors and an old man in front of her shot her strange glances. She needed to take one last look at the platform and the strange nocturnal watcher, wishing for it to know that she would not lower her guard even for a moment.

The buzzing inside her head dissipated as the train doors closed and began to slide down the rails.

She sighed slowly, processing the revelation of what just has happened. Distracting herself with her cell phone, she fought to remain calm, trying her hardest to control her shaking hands. The signal had returned, but there were no messages or missed calls.

"Maybe it's none of my business, but your nose is bleeding."

She knew it, but before she could wipe it with the back of her hand, the old man with the cane offered her a handkerchief. She accepted the gesture unceremoniously, thanking only with a nod, but not taking her eyes away from the window and the darkness that laid beyond.

Her body's reactions was betraying her, it has been just a sign of her own weakness. Her pale reflection in the window stared back, and it was then that she noticed that the old man who had offered her help was still watching her through the corridor.

Turning around, she made a gesture to return the handkerchief, folding it to hide insulting blood stain that she had left in it, but the man raised a gloved hand with deformed knuckles, stopping her attempts to stand. "Keep it, you need it more than me right now."

"Thank you." Her words resonated with shyness, as always, trying not to meet the man's eyes by giving him an awkward smile. He quickly scanned her face with narrowing eyes, stopping at her right cheekbone.

Startled by his scrutiny, she turned to the window again, hiding that part of her face and tensing her once more, cursing herself.

"Someone following you?"

She frowned, and for a moment observed the handkerchief stained red between her fingers. It was made with cotton and has two letters "A.S." embroidered in one of the corners. She felt shame for having used and stained something like that, but the man seen not to care. Her nose had stopped bleeding, but her head pounded and the fever had returned. The man's question had taken her by surprise, and when she glanced back at him, the expression he offered, under thick white brows and a black-brimmed hat, was not one of concern, but one of suspicion.

"Yes." She darted her eyes away, hating feeling scrutinized. She keep her eyes on the window, watching the night, and the dim lights of the city.

"And can you tell what was following you?" The man spoke in a raspy, low voice, occasionally glancing at the couple a few seats away from them. Even as frustration weighed down on her shoulders like the damn sword of damocles, the urgency of his voice baffled her, and she turned to him, overcoming her apprehension.

But the old man was no longer looking at her, instead he was staring out of her window. His eyes darted again and again towards the other passengers, as if not wishing to be heard. For a moment she had the unnerving sensation that he actually understood something that she has had trouble understanding for years.

That not all things could be seen by the naked eye.

She shook her head, clearing her mind and her suspicions. The old man was just curious, and she looked unwell. He was just concerned, and she just smiled while questioning whether the man's paranoia might match her own.

"My own shadow." She laughed the answer at the man, who frowned at the strangeness of her response, but she ignored his disappointment, turning to the window to stay there what was left of the trip. He glanced at her one last time, understanding her reserved attitude, before turning his attention to his own window, sinking into absolute silence.

#the strain fx #the night eternal #the strain fanfic #our forbidden worlds #fanfiction #the strain #chapter one #ofw

[tr33-g1rl]

Cars On Roads Like Blood In Veins

This wouldn’t work. We both knew it, but it was still so easy to get attached. Even though we hardly had any time at all. We used every second we had, milked it for all it was worth. For some reason we had convinced ourselves that we could make it longer, that somehow we were above everything else this world had ever seen and that we could make it because we were somehow a magical duo that could make miracles happen.

You see, we thought, “Hey, opposites attract, so we should work.”

I’m loud but I used to be quiet, and you’re quiet but you used to be loud. You liked pop songs with the occasional rap, and I liked indie with touches of electronic. You liked band-tees and jeans, while I liked tank tops and sweatpants.

Okay, I realize that we’re not perfect opposites, but if I’m headed north, you’re going west. We’re not exactly different, but we’re clearly not the same. We just know that we didn’t start heading the same direction and we’re certainly not going to the same destination. If I’m being honest, I’m not going to plead for you to come with me, or ask if I can come with you. We’re just not meant to do this together and that’s fine.

The awful part of it is, though, that we more or less got attached. We may not be headed for the same spot, but somehow, on the criss-crossing roads of this country, our cars began to move at the same speed as you passed my on-ramp and my car was thrown into the same herd as the one you were traveling with.

 And at some point, either you or I ran out of gas at the same the other one decided they needed a cheap pop or a candy bar or maybe a cigarette. We took the same exit, one of us found the gas station and the other followed. You went into the store first, and I followed a few seconds later.

I remember being struck by how pedestrian you looked. I’m on the road a lot, and usually the people you see look somehow… bizarre. Hell, I’ve seen my car; there’s old food wrappers and costumes and papers and a work uniform scattered everywhere in my car except the driver’s seat. But you looked so normal  especially compared to me in my cosplay, headed straight from a convention on a long car ride home.

You looked at me like I was a fairy… or a mad witch, more like. But I brought a smile to your face and that somehow that gave me the courage to wink at you. This forced a chuckle from you, even though you looked deadass tired at approximately three in the morning when we were just outside of Abilene, Texas.

You got back in your big rig and I followed you back to the highway. We were alone with only each other, ourselves and the hosts on the ever changing radio stations. I remember that at one point we were on the same station, and I could tell because you rolled your windows down and sang along, horribly, to whatever shitty pop song the radio was trying to bring back from the previous year. I don’t remember the name of the song, but I rolled my windows down too and joined in on the fun. After the song ended, we didn’t know what to do, so we both rolled our windows up. It was cold out, after all, and my costume didn’t even let me wear a full shirt.

A few more towns and the Texas-Oklahoma state line later and we were in Broken Bow, Oklahoma. I started to get in the turn lane, planning to stop and rest for the night. It was only when I began to press on my brakes that I realized you had moved over two lanes to get behind me. Now it was you following me to the crappy hotel that costed forty-nine dollars a night per room.

I parked in the front.  No one appeared to be crowding this place and the front of the lot was almost completely open. You had to park your truck in the back. By the time I had my room key, you were inside and standing behind me, waiting your turn. I was in the elevator, bag in hand, when I heard you tell the receptionist, “Just give me the room next to her.” I’m pretty sure you heard my laughter from down the hallway.

I dropped my backpack on my bed and propped my door open with one of my shoes. I heard the door next to me open and close. I thought you were just ignoring me, but a minute later I saw you, in your pajamas, push my door open and laugh. I smiled at you, my legs swinging back and forth as I sat on the bed. You just flopped down next to me as I turned on the TV to some shitty Hallmark movie that was playing.

I changed into my pajamas and took off my wig and make-up. You gasped, teasing me, when I came back looking like a completely different looking person.

“Possibly your most daring look of the night,” you had told me. I just elbowed you and told you to shut up, the movie was on and we were missing it. Though, we laughed…because the movie was worth missing.

Instead we played those weak party games you’re supposed to play at sleepovers when you’re a kid. You later told me you never had. I’d only played them with coworkers on slow nights. But, as it turned out, ‘Would You Rather’ and ‘Truth or Dare’ and ‘This or That’ were really fun, especially at about 11:30, when you had been driving since the same time but a day in the past and hadn’t slept at all.

You ended up falling asleep in my room. Your room was just a wasted forty-nine dollars and a cubby hole for your duffle bag. Instead, we slept together, curled up on the floor in front of the TV, kept warm by only the blanket you had brought in from the cabin of your truck and by each other’s almost fever-high body temperature.

You were warm because of some sickness you had picked up somewhere back in your hometown that was somewhere more south than Austin, and I was warm because of a sunburn I had picked up while outside in the courtyard of the convention center. Even like this our warmth was somehow a blessing even though we both woke up at some point during the night, sweating, to take off the blanket and turn on the weak fan.

The next morning we exchanged phone numbers and headed back to the road. But now no music blared through the radio. We had each other on a video call, phone resting against our dash, camera at a really unflattering angle for both of us. But still we talked, laughed and told each other about where we were headed. I still feel sad that you didn’t say the same place as me. Still, we stopped at the same gas station to get lunch; a cheap coffee and a lunchable for you, a cup of soda and a bag of gummy worms for me.

I laughed at how you ate two stacks of cracker, meat and cheese at one time. You laughed at how I had to chew really hard to seperate the partially stale worms into pieces. You burnt your tongue on the coffee. I choked on a small piece of ice. We shook our heads at each other and got back in our cars.

We must’ve looked weird. An eighteen wheeler and a Volvo with no port for an aux cord. Maybe we were both just kinda old school like that.

By the time we reached Westville, I could’ve sworn we had maybe met when we were a couple years younger, then you moved and we had just forgotten about each other and now we had somehow met again. You just felt so comfortable, like the blanket that I now knew was in your passenger seat.

Between 5:45 to 6:30 at the latest, we had reached the border of Kansas and I was so close to home and I could tell. By all three; the scenery, the drop of my heart into my gut, and the fact you were growing quieter. By the time we were in Independence, we were back to making deep small-talk, like we were convinced that maybe, maybe we could convince each other that we wanted to go in the same direction.

But I knew that West wasn’t home, and you knew that North held nothing for you.

When we reached Iola, I had resorted to telling you all about Kansas City, about how much I loved it, about how much you would love it. You started telling me about California, how much prospect it held, how good I could do there.

The next half hour we was spent in silence. But we started laughing together again by Garnett, but by then we only had an hour and fifteen minutes left.

And we filled those precious minutes with everything we could. I bitched about how much I simultaneously love and hate my job, you told me about how you were missing a concert on this trip.

Finally, we reached Kansas City, Kansas. We stopped at a QuikTrip just off the highway. We were both running low on gas, anyway, and even though we were about to be separated, likely to never see each other again, we were both practical people. And this little interaction, whatever it had been, was not enough to stop our lives in our tracks.

We both made light talk as we filled our tanks and went inside to pick up something to eat. I handed you a coffee, and you handed me a bottle of strawberry Fanta. I paid for both of our collective treats, and when you tried to protest, I just hushed you. “You’re going farther than me; you’ll need the gas money later,” I said. You shook your head and rolled your eyes, but you put your wallet away all the same.

I told the cashier I wanted the receipt.Which is weird, because I usually tell them to trash it. I guess I just wanted something to remember you by; some physical proof that all of this happened and that you weren’t just some highway wraith that I had imagined seconds before my own car crash death. But as far as the single piece of evidence hinted, this whole experience had been just as real as I could believe.

And there we stood, you in front of your truck and me in front of my Volvo. We didn’t know how we could or should end this. Hell, we didn’t even know it there was a standard protocol for such unique events like this. But here we were and we’d be damned if we weren’t going to be the first ones to show people how it’s done.

I held my hand out, offering a handshake as a farewell. You laughed and pushed my hand aside before pulling me into a hug. I didn’t even try to resist. I just wrapped my arms around you in return. We pulled apart and looked each other in the eyes.

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Very,” You said.

“Then I wish the best of luck to you.”

“Right back at you.”

Then we both nodded and you opened the door to your giant monster of a truck, and I got in my mouse of a car. We really must’ve looked like quite the duo, driving everywhere together. But now our number of two would subtract one, and we would each be solo acts again.

We both pulled out onto the street at the same time. I was turning left and you were turning right. I was headed back to my hometown and you were going to turn onto the US Route 50 and take it all the way to California. I’d like to think that the light turned red just for us so we could have those precious thirty seconds.

We wasted the first ten by looking at the traffic. And the next five were spent looking at the light, seeing if it would turn. The next ten we just didn’t make eye contact. Then we finally looked at each other, and I saw you see me. So I did what I thought would make us both feel better. I winked and blew you a kiss. You pretended to dodge it with a disgusted face. It made me laugh. I stuck my tongue out at you in retaliation.

Then the light turned, and I was forced to turn away from you.

But I hope that’s how you remember me; a laugh on my face and my tongue sticking out like a fool. If you do choose to remember me.

I choose to remember you. Something about us changed me; it made me realize just how good the world can be and just how happy other people can make me. In those brief hours together, I think I came to love you, but there was no heartbreak when we parted. Just happiness that for the little amount of time we had together, we were not-quite-perfect together.

You changed me and everything I knew. For that, I thank you.

#write #writer #writeblr #writers #writing #creative #creative writing #short story #personal shit #willow's bullshit #willow #willow's writing #one of the few things in this world im proud of doing

[lovemesomesurveys]

On MySpace, what was in the last bulletin you posted? Most likely it was a survey. Man, I wish I could still access those. 15/16 year old me survey answers... yikes.

When and where was the last time you took a picture of yourself? In room a few weeks ago.

Have you ever been scolded by a mall cop? Not scolded, but one told me to take my hoodie off once. ha. He was cool about it.

How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? I zone out a lot.

What’s your favorite thing to think about as you’re falling asleep? I don’t have much control over where my brain goes. It likes to go some weird, random, and sometimes dark places.

Is there anything that you want to do, but you won’t do because you’re too afraid? A lot of things.

Who was the last person to yell at you? Not sure. I don’t get yelled at, but like my parents and I have our disagreements and get frustrated with each other sometimes.

Who gets up the earliest in your household and what about the latest? My dad gets up the earliest everyday even on the weekends when he’s off work. The latest is me.

Have you ever had a pet walk across your keyboard while you were typing? No. My dogs have always been too big to do that.

Which political issues are you most passionate about? I don’t want to get into politics.

You’re going to your favorite foreign country, so what landmarks do you go see? I’d love to check out many places in Sweden.

What’s the longest amount of time that you’ve spent away from your home? A week.

Did the last movie you watched have any emotional affect on you? I just saw Glass on Saturday, which was pretty crazy. In a good way.

What motivates you to go to school? I’m done with school, thank goodness.

How much caffeine have you consumed in one day? I used to always have coffee first thing and then a can of soda later on. Sometimes more coffee later that night. I haven’t had soda; though, in over year. Well, minus the sip I take with my medicine (I have to crush my pills and soda is the only thing I can take it with). Now I’m just about the coffee, twice a day. Nice, warm, big, delicious cups of coffee.

Are you more hyper and up-tight or laid back and relaxed? Hyper and upright don’t seem to go together in the way you paired these things, but I’d say I actually come off laid back to people who don’t really know me and probably just cause I’m pretty quiet, but really I’m more tense and anxious.

When was the last time you heard someone talking about you? *shrug*

How did you pick out your last outfit? I just grabbed some leggings and a sweatshirt. Not much thought went into it.

Are you embarrassed to bring people into your bedroom? I would be now.

When was the last children’s birthday party you attended? It’s been a couple years.

Are you good at reading other people’s body language? I think so. I could be taking it the wrong way sometimes, though.

If you’re sick, do you go to school or do you stay home usually? It depended on how sick I was. Typically, I’d power through, but there were times where I just couldn’t. There were times in college before I had a pretty big surgery for something where I was sick a lot and went to school with a fever and chills. I’d have to pop some Tylenol before class, sometimes even during, and just push through. Weak me today can’t relate.

Does chicken noodle soup really make you feel any better? No.

What’s one meal that you like to eat whilst sick? Usually I’m not much into anything because my taste buds are all messed up and everything tastes bland. And then depending on what kind of sick I am, I may not want to eat anything, really. I have to force myself to eat toast or soup in times like that.

Thinking of the last survey you filled out, did you enjoy it? It was okay.

Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? Yeah, before I learned how terrible it is for them. <<<< Same. :X

Is it hard to imagine you were ever as small as a one or two-year-old? Yeah. Such a long time ago. D:

What set the tone for your mood today? It’s only 1:56AM. So far; though, I feel pretty crappy cause of this cough and cold thing I have going on.

Have you ever set out to ruin someone else’s day? No. I would never intentionally do that.

Have you ever felt like the whole world was against you? Just like life in general, ya know?

What was the name of the last video game you played? Life is Strange.

What was the name of the last board game that you played? I don’t remember, it’s been too long. I love board games.

What was the last thing that you told yourself? *shrug*

How many times a day do you wash your face? I actually don’t. I just apply moisturizer sometimes.

If someone throws hot coffee on you, how do you react? Uh, well, I’d react to something HOT being thrown at me and be like WTF? I’ve spilled hot coffee on myself on accident, so I know it’s not a pleasant feeling.

Is there a high school or college that you would rather be attending? I’m doneeee with school.

Have you ever lived in an apartment or duplex home? Duplex.

Has anyone ever commented on your weight? Yes. I get told how I’m “too skinny” all the time.

What’s a show from the ’90s that you miss? I mean, I still watch a lot of my favorites from that time.

Who provokes your sarcastic side the most? My brother and I sarcastically joke around all the time.

Have you ever thought about joining the military? No. I couldn’t anyway.

When you were little, did you ever stare at disabled or “different” people? I was/am disabled and am quite familiar with the stares.

Could the contents of your bedroom get you in any trouble? No...

Do weather patterns sometimes have an affect on your health? Rainy, cold weather can give me headaches and make me achy. Hot weather makes me just absolutely miserable.

If it snows a lot where you live, do you experience cabin fever? It doesn’t snow here. :(

When was the last time someone disapproved of something you were doing? I feel like my family disapproves of me not doing things I should be doing pertaining to my health. I know they get frustrated with me for that.

Do you consider yourself to be approachable? I’m not sure.

How do you respond to cheesy pick-up lines? Laugh. I’ve been asked the whole, “aye girl, what’s your sign?” before.

How was the service at the last restaurant you visited? Fine.

Are you ever jealous of happy couples? No. I may feel envious sometimes, but not jealous.

How would you describe a thought that’s sticking with you today? I’ve been thinking about how crappy I feel.

Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind? No one in particular.

In a car, air conditioning or roll the windows down? Air conditioning.

Is there a new song or band you’ve discovered? I’ve come across some new music recently. I don’t really listen to music a whole lot like I used to, so I went on Spotify the other day and checked out some new stuff to add to my playlist.

What teacher gives you the most homework?

What type of personality do you find most annoying? Cockiness and arrogance.

Are you punctual? Yes.

Have you ever howled at the full moon? ...No.

Have you ever seen yourself on camera? Yes. EW. The most torturous thing ever was back when I for some reason took this “acting for the camera” class and we’d have to do monologues and skits that were filmed. The WORST part about that was the professor would play everyone’s tape in front of the class and we were to give constructive criticism. Omg it was horrible.

Do you give any consideration to what’s said in your horoscope? I don’t even read those anymore. Back when I used to, I was so opposite of how a Leo is always described. They’re always said to be confident and outgoing people and I’m just like, ahahahahah.

When was the last time you felt like you were being followed? Yikes. I used to feel that way sometimes whenever I had to go to the bus stop or was going home from the bus stop.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[toomanysurveys9]

On MySpace, what was in the last bulletin you posted? i have no clue. that literally years ago. i was in like, middle school?? maybe early high school?

When and where was the last time you took a picture of yourself? it was several days ago, and i was on the couch at my house.

Have you ever been scolded by a mall cop? i haven’t been. my brother was not too long ago because he had his gun on him and someone evidently saw it and complained. but he’s allowed to have it so they didn’t really do anything besides ended up asking him to just take it out to his car.

How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? not very often.

What’s your favorite thing to think about as you’re falling asleep? i guess that would be my babies. lol.

Is there anything that you want to do, but you won’t do because you’re too afraid? yeah. there’s a lot of things like that.

Who was the last person to yell at you? my mom i think because things suck and i’m stressing out. and lord forbid i have actual feelings...

Who gets up the earliest in your household and what about the latest? earliest would be my mom or my dad. latest is usually my grandma.

Have you ever had a pet walk across your keyboard while you were typing? yeah. more than once. lol.

Which political issues are you most passionate about?

healthcare probably. especially right now since i just had eliana and i feel like i’m going to drown in the medical bills...

You’re going to your favorite foreign country, so what landmarks do you go see?

i don’t really know what my favorite foreign country is right now. there are so many places i wish to go...

What’s the longest amount of time that you’ve spent away from your home?

this home? a weekend.

Did the last movie you watched have any emotional affect on you?

it was part of the ninja turtles, and it did not have an emotional affect.

What motivates you to go to school? i already graduated. i went to school because i wanted to be able to do something besides work at a factory, but chances are i’ll still end up in a factory...

How much caffeine have you consumed in one day? way too damn much. lol.

Are you more hyper and up-tight or laid back and relaxed? i wouldn’t say i’m all that relaxed but i’m not hyper or uptight i don’t think. i’m anxious and sad and i guess i can be more laid-back.

When was the last time you heard someone talking about you? i don’t remember. it’s been awhile.

How did you pick out your last outfit? i just grabbed jeans and one of the new tshirts i got last weekend.

Are you embarrassed to bring people into your bedroom? right now, yes. it’s a disaster.

When was the last children’s birthday party you attended? i don’t even remember to be honest. possibly hayden’s? that’s my cousin’s daughter that is a few months younger than wy.

Are you good at reading other people’s body language? i think so.

If you’re sick, do you go to school or do you stay home usually? depends how sick i am and what we were doing at school.

Does chicken noodle soup really make you feel any better? i don’t really like chicken noodle unless it’s my mom’s homemade.

What’s one meal that you like to eat whilst sick?

i don’t know. usually i don’t really like to eat much of anything when i’m sick.

Thinking of the last survey you filled out, did you enjoy it? i don’t remember what that one was, but i guess so.

Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? yeah. before i knew it was bad for them.

Is it hard to imagine you were ever as small as a one or two-year-old? kind of. lol.

What set the tone for your mood today? i’ve been depressed, sad, and tired for most of it. oh, and lonely.

Have you ever set out to ruin someone else’s day? no. i’m not like that.

Have you ever felt like the whole world was against you? kind of i guess.

What was the name of the last video game you played? i don’t know. i don’t really play video games.

What was the name of the last board game that you played? i don’t remember. it’s been FOREVER since i played a board game.

What was the last thing that you told yourself? that i have to keep living for my babies.

How many times a day do you wash your face? maybe once.

If someone throws hot coffee on you, how do you react? i mean. i would be pissed and sore. probably yell, at least from pain.

Is there a high school or college that you would rather be attending? i graduated already.. so..

Have you ever lived in an apartment or duplex home? trailer is the closest thing. but technically, no.

Has anyone ever commented on your weight?

yeah.

What’s a show from the ’90s that you miss?

does full house count even though it started in the late 80′s? it ended in 1995.

Who provokes your sarcastic side the most?

my husband.

Have you ever thought about joining the military?

briefly. i would never actually be able to though.

When you were little, did you ever stare at disabled or “different” ?

it’s possible when i was a little kid.. before i knew that was rude. i never said anything. it was mostly probably just curiosity, because i was young.

Could the contents of your bedroom get you in any trouble?

no. i’m an adult and it’s our house too.

Do weather patterns sometimes have an affect on your health?

well, sure.

If it snows a lot where you live, do you experience cabin fever?

yeah. i experience that regardless of season if i spend too much time at home.

When was the last time someone disapproved of something you were doing?

damned if i know.

Do you consider yourself to be approachable?

i guess i’m not. which is probably why i don’t have friends. lol.

How do you respond to cheesy pick-up lines?

i don’t.

Do you like to give people a taste of their own medicine?

no. i’ve never been one for revenge, even if i wanted to.

How was the service at the last restaurant you visited?

it was actually really good and the food was really good. i kind of want to go back. it was my first time going to olive garden.

Are you ever jealous of happy couples?

not really. i’m sometimes happy.

How would you describe a thought that’s sticking with you today?

sad. depression fueled. i’m wondering if i’m not suffering from ppd kind of. i wouldn’t dream of hurting my babies. but myself... idk. sometimes it seems scary close to going too far as far as myself is concerned.. but i don’t because my babies.

Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind?

my babies. they’re keeping me going.

In a car, air conditioning or roll the windows down?

usually air conditioning. especially if people are mowing.

Is there a new song or band you’ve discovered?

not recently.

What teacher gives you the most homework?

i’m not in school anymore.

What type of personality do you find most annoying?

cocky. abusive.

Are you punctual?

yeah. especially if i’m driving myself.

Have you ever howled at the full moon?

i don’t know.

Have you ever seen yourself on camera?

yeah..

Do you give any consideration to what’s said in your horoscope?

not so much, no.

When was the last time you felt like you were being followed?

i don’t remember.

#survey #surveys #personal #question #questions #random

[lotornomiko]

The Hook Belle Untitled Pirate Au Fic Chapter Five

In desperate need of a title! Darkish AU. King Maurice sent Killian and his brother on a mission that resulted in Liam’s death. What better way to get his revenge, than to strike out against the King’s daughter, the beautiful princess Belle? But things don’t always go as plan…. Summary sucks I know…Eventual Non Con Warning…

My heart has been racing at a steady clip, it's beat a frightened tempo that only grows more frantic with every passing second. The fear that causes my heart's erratic rhythm, works to chip away at my mask, that unflinching, unflappable bravery all but crumbling apart the instant HE leaves the room. The door slamming shut behind him, and the sound of a lock being engaged, at last permit me the first real cower of the evening, my eyes welling up with so many tears, as my body starts to tremble uncontrollably. That violent shaking makes me clumsy, my fingers fumbling their grip on the blanket that I am trying to wrap around my body. I swaddle myself in it's velvet embrace, then let out a hiss of displeasure at the feel of that soft, furred like fabric against my bare skin. Its a sensation unlike anything I am used to, the velvet brushing against my naked flesh and the overly sensitive tips of my breasts. Immediate is the memory, the fear and the feelings aroused by a moment that had just taken place minutes earlier, the remembered feel of his fingers pinch and caress, and the moist kisses he had pressed into my skin.

I run hot and cold together, my body shivering with a fevered warmth. I want to throw the blanket off of me, to shake free of the velvet that both teases and tantalizes my skin into a physical memory. One that has my skin crawling with unease, as the enormity of what I have agreed to, hits me harder than ever. I hold back a soft sob, and fight the tears that try to overflow. In this moment I am not the brave, caring princess, but simply a frightened girl, one who has no need or reason to pretend. And with that, I break, grabbing for one of the bed's many pillows, and using that soft lump to muffle the worst of my sobbing sounds.

I don't know how long that I cry for. But the worst of my heart ache has passed. I'm still scared, still so terribly frightened, but already I am building up my mask. I pull the remnants together, my composure made up in parts false bravado, stoicism, and a good dash of determined. I remember who I am, WHAT I am, a princess, a noble, my body born and bred for such a sacrifice. Be it for the fate of a million, or for just a small handful of terrified women, whether it be the pirate or some King, my innocence's blood had always been destined to spill. There had never been a chance for me, never a real choice, such things as love and preference reserved for those born of more lucky a lineage.

Resigned to it, to a life lacking of love and choice, I still can't help the envious feelings that curl up within me. Not for the first time do I find myself wishing for something else, for some other life than that of a neglected princess and helpless pawn. But nothing changes. Nothing EVER does. I'm all too aware of my lack of power, of my inability to truly change the set course of my destiny.

It's a weary acceptance I've long since nurtured. It and these realizations have been there in one form or another, ever since I was a young girl of eight mourning the loss of my one real source of comfort. My mother, that one real taste of familial love, struck down in the prime of her life. Taken from me when I had needed her most, her death had been but the first of a harsh string of life lessons. From the father who could not love me, from the loss of the only homes I had ever known, to the sight of all those men who had died on this day, the pirate, Killian, is just the latest in a long line of disappointments.

As disappointed and as frightened as I am, I can't help but be curious. Can't help but wonder about the man, and the boy he had once been. That kind, empathetic boy, the only one to have dared reach out to me in my moment of despair, what had happened to him? What had changed him, corrupted him, made him into that monster of a man? A cold, unfeeling terror who had killed so many, and stood poised to devastate kingdoms with this night's act. And how did my father factor into all of this? I simply did not know, simply could not imagine the kind of answer needed to justify such an extreme act of vengeance. it wasn't just my father alone who would suffer for Killian's revenge, it was Avonlea, a whole kingdom's worth of people to fall victim to a war.

It's a war that my marriage might have helped avert. The House of Hunters was powerful, their name alone inspiring great fear and respect. The alliance my marriage would have sealed, the threat of the kind of king Gaston was rumored to be, might have not just lessened the war, but outright STOPPED it. All chance of that was lost now, sunk to the bottom of the sea along with the ships that had made up my escort, I might as well be as dead as Killian wanted the world to believe.

But I wasn't. I lived, breathed, and was terrified. My immediate future loomed before me, made all the more vivid a fear by the memory of his finger's caress and his lips' kiss. By the play of his dagger, and that mad look of unbridled lust on his face, I could no longer claim to be a complete innocent. Branded by him, I now knew the frightening touch of a man, and though I knew not the explicit details of such intimacy, my frazzled mind attempted to guess at what else he could and would attempt to do.

Such attempts at imagining the act, only left me feeling all the more vulnerable. I shivered and shook anew, pulled tighter around me the velvet covering, and wondered if Killian would at all be gentle. Could a hand that so casually killed even be capable of that? Or was violence the only way left to him, left to US, now? I didn't know, so many uncertain what ifs alive in my head. They prodded and picked away at my mask, my bravery starting to go long before I heard the clear sound of the lock turning in the door.

Still wrapped in that velvet cocoon, I felt my back stiffen with fear and then with my displeasure. I would not cower in front of him! I would NOT! I would be brave, I would be determined, and most of all I would be indifferent to anything that he could say or do to me. I had already survived torture at his hands, had not cried out when the dagger had tore through my gown and the shift beneath it. I would survive this, I would survive HIM, my chin lifting stubbornly, so that my bravery and defiance would be the first thing that Killian would see of me upon entering the room.

Readying myself for the sight of him, I was not prepared for the reality. For his storm angry gaze, and the scowl that twisted the corners of his mouth. He was so angry, his mood more volatile than I could have anticipated. I didn't understand, couldn't fathom a real reason behind such anger so clearly directed my way. Should not Killian be happy about what he was about to do, what he was about to have? Confused, it was all I could do not to flinch when he slammed the cabin door shut behind him.

Every stomp of his booted feet on the rug covered floor, rattled and jarred my nerves something senseless. I was fighting not to cringe, to not gasp or scream, my anxiety mounting and that was before he began to undo his belt's buckle. My own knuckles went white from the force in which I gripped the blanket closed around me, watching as Killian then kicked off his boots. Each one hit the floor hard, as though the pirate was trying to expend the worst of his anger with such violent action. Tried and was so clearly failing, the pirate stalking towards then past the bed, and my eyes widen in shock and dismay.

He was HURT. This much was now apparent, even in the dim glow of the enchanted blue light of the room. This close I could see the wounds, see the fresh blood marring his body. I started to make some sound, some rattling noise that died in my throat, when he bent and shimmied out of his leather pants. The sound locked in my throat, my mouth dry with my shock, I couldn't help taking in that first sight of unobstructed male beauty. And he was a thing of beauty, even bloodied and injured as he was, his strong back slick with blood and cuts, his thighs thick and muscular, and the tight, chiseled perfection of his rear. My mouth opened on a sigh of appreciation that was distorted, the gasp not quite voiced as I stared at him and noticed older wounds that the blood couldn't quite cover, a criss cross of many scarred lines of flesh.

"Killian, what has happened to you?!" I couldn't help asking. My voice was a hoarse whisper, but that quiet sound he had heard all the same. He glanced over his shoulder at me, the movement drawing my eyes almost guiltily up from their perusal of his body. Was that cold amusement in his gaze? Did he guess at my admiration for his body, even wounded as he so clearly was?

"This?" He inquired, in a deep, resonant tone. "This is proof of accomplishing the impossible."

"The impossible?" I blinked rapidly in confusion.

His smile was sardonic, Killian watching me carefully. "The mercy that you asked for." His clarification dawned a realization in me, a hope I hadn't dared fully nurture. I nearly wilted then and there, the relief hitting me hard. Such a reaction was misunderstood by him, Killian asking me if I regretted the deal that I had made.

"Of course I don't!" I snapped at him angrily. "Those women are SAFE, free from your crew's lust and abuse! If I could play a part in ANY way to ensure that, I'd gladly do it all over again."

"I am sure that will be a cold comfort to you in the coming days and nights." His callous remark surely made the remaining color leech out my skin, my fingers tightening on the velvet fabric, clutching the blanket as tight around me as it could possibly get without tearing.

"I haven't forgotten our bargain." I tell him, but my tone and my manner is defiant. My chin lifts with my stubborn pride, my anxiety flip flopping about in my belly as I try to relax my grip on the blanket. "I will pay your price."

He arches an eyebrow at me, as though in mocking challenge. I let out a steady breath, nerving myself to throw off the blanket. I can't quite maintain my glare, my face feeling hot with my shame and embarrassment as I expose myself to him. I then gasp, cause he is suddenly THERE, not just by the bed, but on it, looming over me with an absolutely furious expression on his face.

"Little fool!" Killian hisses down at me. I can only stare up at him, my eyes full of the fright and panic that his naked nearness inspires within me. Vaguely I am aware that no part of him makes contact with any part of my own body, and yet he is so close, that I can feel the heat and raw strength of him. "Do you not know what you risk in tempting me like this?!"

I'm almost dumb with terror, but not so far gone to it, as to be completely lost to what he is saying. "I am not trying to tempt you." I am proud of the calm, even tone with which I speak now. "I am merely fulfilling my half of our deal."

His gaze actually narrows even further, a small throbbing vein revealing itself against the corner of one temple. "Oh yes, you'll fulfill it. You will fulfill it and then some!"

"I won't deny that or YOU!" I retort back. "In this, you have my word...my word AND my obedience." A quick flick of my tongue moistens my dry lips. "I am YOURS. For how ever long you will have me."

I don't understand his expression, or that angry look that gleams in his eyes. Shouldn't a man be happy to have a woman pledge her body and her obedience to him, no matter the reason behind such a vow? Or does his hatred for my father warp even this much for him? The fear crosses my mind then, the thought that Killian might go out of his way to hurt me, in retaliation for whatever misdeed my father may or may not have done him.

"Please..." I say it a tad desperately, feeling tears prick at my eyes. "I won't fight....so please...."

His hand moves, and for a second I wonder if he intends to strike me. Instead an all too trembling finger is pressed against my lips, Killian's eyes closed as though he cannot bear even this much contact with me. I go silent at the touch, watching him, confused and frightened anew, trying to gleam some understanding from a mind that doesn't make any real sense to me.

"A man can only take so much." He mutters it as though it isn't for my ears to hear, and then Killian is gone. The bed feels lighter without his presence there on top of it, on top of me, and for one brief moment, I just stare up at the room's ceiling. A sound to the right of me, a rustle of fabrics, draws my attention, something hitting me square in the chest.

"Put this on." He snaps, not looking at me. I blink in slow repetition, before acknowledging what he had thrown at me. A man's shirt, his most likely, that large length of fabric guaranteed to cover me past my knees. I hear more sound, look towards the confusing sight of the pirate pulling on a fresh pair of pants. My clear lack of understanding leaves me slow to move, my body moving to pull on the shirt. I positively swim in it, the cuffs of the sleeves rolling past the tips of my fingers.

Confusion chases away the worst of my fear. What little I know of the intimate act, clothing has never played a huge factor in. So then...what was Killian's game? What was he on about? I didn't know, couldn't even fathom the motive behind such an action.

"Killian---Captain." In an uncertain tone, I correct myself. "What...?"

"Over here." He interrupts me, gesturing for me to follow him. Warily, I inch off the bed, more confused than ever. First we both get dressed, and now he has us moving away from the bed? It didn't make sense, none of it did, least of all HIM. Not until he opens a small wooden chest, and I spy the bottles and clean cloth and fabric bandages.

"Ah." A simple word, more a sound than anything. Killian nods, and takes a seat. "How badly are you hurt?"

"Worry not, I'll live." He says.

"I wasn't worried!" I retort, starting to open up the various bottles. Not all of them are labeled, and some aren't even medicines, but drinks, the smell of rum and brandy assaulting my nose, and leaving me to cough unpleasant surprise in response.

"Well you should be. For it won't just be you who suffers should I die."

His words chill me to the bone, for I know he is right It's not just me, and not just him at stake now, but the hold full of terrified women. He sees my reaction, Killian nodding to himself as though satisfied with my fright.

"Women on board a pirate's ship brings nothing but trouble."

"Is that why you were going to leave them to die?" I inquire, meeting his gaze head on. "Because they are more trouble than you think it worth?"

"Would you think me cruel if I said yes?" KIllian asks in return. "Or would it give you comfort to think I was trying to spare them a fate worst then death?"

"And yet you managed to do just that!" I quickly point out.

"At great cost to me..." He mutters, abruptly hissing as I press a cloth that is soaked in antibacterial fluid to his shoulder. It is there that the worst of his fresh wounds lay, open and gaping, with dried blood scabbing at the edges.

"I'm not sorry for that." I don't leave him time to interpret my words. "They don't deserve to die any more than they deserve the fun your crew wants to have."

"Oh aye, I can agree with that. With both those points. But it doesn't mean life is EVER fair."

"I never said it was." And my gaze runs sad with the memory of my mother, and fresher yet, the memory of the kind boy Killian had once been. "So now what?" I ask, trying to shake free of the sorrows both cause me.

"Now?" His brows draw together with his thoughts. He's quiet long enough that I think the silence means Killian is choosing to ignore my question. I frown and take a perverse pleasure in pressing more of the cleansing medicine against his shoulder's wound.

"They do present a problem, don't they...."

"How so?"

"I don't traffic in people." He explains. "And even if I did, these women would be the one group I cannot sell." His arm raises, Killian's fingers hovering as though the man meant to touch me. "And do you know why?"

Mutely I shake my head no, and startle when his hand cups my cheek. With that touch he draws me in even closer, and then whispers huskily in my ear. "Because they are witnesses against what your father needs to believe, that of the death of his only daughter."

"I don't matter to him." I say in a resigned tone. "Alive or dead, it won't make much difference to him."

"Oh, I know that it won't be fatherly love that drives him to come after you, but a King's pride." Killian retorted. "I've disrupted his attempt at alliance, ruined yet another bid of his to power grab."

"You've also all but guaranteed Avonlea fights a war it cannot win." I point out.

"It was not I who guaranteed it, but your father!" With that retort, his touch is abruptly gone from me. I take a step back, and then another, glaring at the pirate while fighting not to press my hand to where his had just been.

"My father wants to STOP that war!" I protest. "With the very alliance my marriage was to make!"

"So innocent, so naive...so....IGNORANT." He mocks me. "But I suppose it can't be helped. He did send you away after all."

"I may not know all of my father's dealings..."

"It's rapidly become apparent that you know NONE of them." He corrected none too gently. "Your hands are clean princess. Be grateful for that much at least."

"Grateful?!" I squeak in disbelief.

He nods, a grim look in his eyes. "If I had reason to suspect otherwise, if I thought that in any way you were at all like him, or at all privy to his true evil..."

The threat went unvoiced, but I was chilled none the less. "My father's true evil? Don't be absurd!" I tried to sound indignant, as if I wasn't concerned with anything else the pirate had just said and implied. "He may not be the most loving of men but...."

"There's no love in his heart for anyone or anything, save for his wealth and his power." He said it with such finality, with such a self reassured certainty that I knew then there was no denying it, or changing Killian's mind where my father was concerned.

"So then what?" I asked, more than a tad bitterly. "You'll play judge, juror, and executioner for these imagined crimes of his? You? Whose hands are FILTHY and only grow more so with your every act against him?" I'm actually scoffing now, haughty and proud as I stare down at this man, this pirate who murders so casually, who will be the ruin of my kingdom.

"Oh aye, my hands are dirty." He's nodding, and hardly seems insulted by what I have said. "Made that way through choice and circumstance. But it's a sad and hard fact, that to stop a monster, you have to BECOME one."

"Why?" It's nothing more than a whisper in which I speak now. "What could he have possibly done to set you on this course? What reason, what justification do you have!?" He held my gaze for too long, leaving me to become even more agitated. "Tell me!" I all but shrieked, my body vibrating with nervous energy as I remained rooted in spot some feet away from him. "I deserve to know that much at least!"

His storm colored gazed darkened immeasurably, Killian giving the bare hint of a nod. I all but held my breath, waiting on a second that seemed frozen in time. He never took his eyes from mine, watching me for every flinch and every shocked reaction, as he hissed out his answer.

"Your father is the reason, the catalyst that led me to KILL my only brother."

My breathing immediately became ragged, the harsh sound of my panicked grasp for enough air filling the room with its noise. My surroundings actually swam, my body swaying unsteadily on it's feet. Only the fear of him, of what Killian might do to me, kept me barely from fainting.

"No." I am barely consciously of what I am saying. "NO!" I scream it then, watching as Killian's eyebrow lifts in mocking condescension. I find myself shaking my head too fast, the room spinning wildly in place as I half stumble even farther away. But there's no where to run, and certainly no where to hide, my back pressing into the wall as I stare at the pirate, the mad man who has me at his mercy.

#once upon a time #ouat #captain beauty #captain hook #belle #killian jones #fanfic #fanfiction #notsafeforwork #untitledpirateAU #captain book #Killian x belle

[jarienn972]

The Right Place - Chapter Eight

Okay, I’m slowly getting caught up on chapter posting here on Tumblr.  Trying to keep up with 2 WIP fics has been a bit of a challenge and I got a little bit behind on this particular story.  All 9 completed chapters can be found on AO3 and FF.net and I’ll get the 9th one up here very soon.  I just don’t want to post too many chapter updates all at once.  

Here are the links to the earlier chapters if anyone would like a refresher:

Prologue/Chap 1  Chap 2  Chap 3  Chap 4  Chap 5  Chap 6  Chap 7

Early Wednesday morning, Portland Medical Center

According to the clock on the wall opposite him, it was now just after midnight as Killian awoke to a somewhat familiar voice engaged in conversation with his wife. Still irritated from the breathing tube, his throat had reached annoying levels of scratchiness. The mask he was instructed to wear wasn't helping either, only making his parched lips even drier. He promptly tugged it away, letting it hang about his neck by the elastic strap while gradually opening one eye and then the other, allowing his vision to adapt to the dim light of the room. As the surroundings came into focus once again, he spied Emma and the deputy he'd been introduced to earlier standing near the doorway talking in hushed voices. He couldn't make out the majority of what they were saying but he assumed that Emma's eagle eyes would have noticed him removing the mask but she didn't appear to have spotted his stirring.

"Emma?" he managed to croak out her name in little more than a whimper, surprising him with the degree of difficulty he had uttering that one single word. What the devil had that nurse injected into his veins earlier? Thankfully, his wife had heard his weak plea, immediately halting her conversation with the deputy to attend to him.

"Killian," she smiled sweetly as she moved closer but the expression barely concealed a new veil of concern hiding behind her green eyes. He could easily read it in the way she was looking at him. "I've been a little worried about you…" Why was she fretting about him yet again? And why did he feel noticeably weaker than he had earlier when he'd given over to sleep? "You've been running a pretty nasty fever," Emma explained as though she'd read his mind yet again.

"Ah…," he replied as his mental query was answered. Fever would most certainly explain why he was feeling worse. He'd experienced more than a few feverous days and nights during his many years at sea, recalling a particularly memorable bout with scarlet fever while in Neverland. Had a certain perky fairy not found him passed out in the jungle, he might not have survived that malady but four members of his crew hadn't been as lucky as he. But fever be damned right now. He craved a swig of rum but doubted he'd be permitted even the faintest sip of any libation. He just needed something to relieve the discomfort in his throat. "Just thirsty…"

"Oh…of course… Hang on," she told him, reaching for the handle of a beige plastic pitcher on the nightstand beside him. She poured just a small amount into a paper cup and thought about handing it to him, but then changed her mind and brought the cup to his lips. She tipped it slowly so he could take small sips, drinking nearly all of it before raising his hand to push her arm away. "The nurse brought you a container of ice chips too. They might feel better on your throat…"

"Not now," he responded with a shake of his head, his eyes falling closed again as he felt a pang of nausea building, worried his stomach wouldn't be able to handle anything more.

"Its okay. We can get more anytime if these ones melt." Her statement struck him as odd – not due to the subject, but rather her delivery. Was she disappointed that he'd refused?

"Later then," he promised, replying with the best cheeky grin he could muster and however ridiculous he may have looked, his effort did provide the desired effect of lightening her spirits.

"Now that you're awake, do you think you feel up to looking at some photos that Deputy McCallen put together? He'd like to try and narrow down the description of the boat you were on." Killian nodded and nearly responded with an 'Aye' but stopped himself, reminding himself that in this land, he wasn't known as a pirate captain. Here he was officially Deputy Sheriff Killian Jones, colleague to this young man who was working diligently to locate those who'd left a fellow deputy to perish.

"There are just a few here," McCallen jumped into the conversation. "I pulled up some that that most closely matched the brief description you gave us earlier." The deputy withdrew his phone from his pant pocket and tapped the screen a few times to open the slideshow file he'd created and uploaded before catching a few hours of sleep. "I'll swipe through them one at a time. Stop me if you need me to go back for another look or if you spot one that's a match."

Killian nodded his response once again while Emma took a seat on the bed next to him both to provide emotional support and to ensure that he didn't attempt to push himself. McCallen opened up the first image and turned the electronic screen toward Killian, a photograph of a standard fishing trawler displayed. He had previously indicated that the vessel wasn't a trawler but the deputy decided to use that craft to establish a baseline for comparison. The pirate immediately shook his head no which wasn't a surprise so McCallen flicked that photo away with his index finger. The next image that came up was one of a fancier cabin cruiser but again Killian signaled that it wasn't quite right, nor were the two following images. The fifth image though raised the pirate's eyebrow with instant recognition.

"That one," Killian stated, ignoring the irritation in the back of his throat to provide the deputy with as much as he could remember. "Of all the images, that one is the most similar - right down to those poles mounted at the stern." McCallen rotated his wrist to confirm which image Killian had identified, seeing that it was the sport fishing boat which had the elevated pilot cabin that had been described as well as a lower berthing area – presumably where the third man had been hiding when they'd departed Portland harbor. "I can't recall the entire moniker painted on the stern but it began with the letters D and O or maybe zero and ended with a number – 12 I believe…"

"Thank you," the deputy replied, tucking the phone away into his pocket before retrieving his trusty little notepad to add this latest piece of information to his evidence notes. "I'll update the harbormaster first thing in the morning and try to match that partial name to sport fishing boats that were in the harbor Sunday morning. It could be a long shot since it's a really popular type of boat, but we'll see where all this leads."

McCallen closed the cover on his notepad and was just about to put it away before returning to his post outside the door when Emma was reminded of the potential motive Killian told her about before the pain medication had knocked him out for approximately five hours.

"Don't put that away just yet," she advised the deputy who glanced over at her curiously. "Killian remembered something else earlier that I'd almost forgotten about until now. It was something that the man who stabbed him said to one of the others…"

"You remembered some more details about the attack?" McCallen directed his question to Killian who signaled an affirmative.

"Don't think it was ever a robbery," the pirate stated, noting a mix of confusion and confirmation on the young deputy's furrowed brow. "They wanted the shopkeeper…" He wanted to say more but since he was already pushing his feverish body to its limits, it was becoming quite an effort just summoning the energy to keep his drooping eyelids open. Sleep reclaimed him before he could complete the statement.

"What did your husband mean by that?" McCallen wondered as Emma moved off of the bed so she wouldn't disturb Killian, joining McCallen near the door.

"He had a bit of a nightmare earlier," she whispered. "His mind keeps replaying the events and while I obviously don't know all of what he experienced, I listened while he talked about it. He said that while he was still partially conscious, he overheard the man who stabbed him scolding the other two for not bringing Ms. Scott out there. He thinks they were trying to frighten her which makes it pretty likely that robbery was never the motive. Something else is going on behind this."

"I think we'll be needing to talk to Jean Scott again in the morning. Why don't you try to get some sleep like your son over there?" McCallen gestured toward Henry who was sleeping almost as soundly as his stepfather on a narrow cot that an orderly had brought in nearly an hour ago. Emma wasn't sure why it had been placed in the room, but they fully intended to make use of it. "We can't do much at this hour," the deputy continued as he scribbled a few last words onto the notepad before it was returned to the safety of his shirt pocket along with his ballpoint pen. "I'll be right outside the door if you need me, and don't worry – I've already spoken to both of the nurses on duty tonight so I can assure you that no one who isn't authorized to enter this room will bother you."

"So, you were the reason that they brought that cot in here? I don't know what it took to convince them to let Henry and me stay here tonight but I certainly appreciate it. Thank you."

"I'm not going to say that they were especially happy about it, but I explained very politely that you and your husband were both members of the law enforcement community and since this is still an open attempted murder case, having you and your family all here under our protection is far easier for all of us. I can be a hard nose too when I need to be."

"Well, it does take a huge burden off of me for tonight at least. One of our family members is going to drive down later this morning to pick up my son and take him back home. I don't want him to miss too much school and it's looking like Killian will be here for at least a few more days. I know he'd rather be here, but…" Her thought trailed off as she glanced over at her son.

"He seems like a pretty good kid," McCallen smiled. "This has got to be a lot to deal with for him…"

"He's definitely a good kid, but he's as stubborn as I am sometimes. Yes, it has been a little difficult for him to deal with but at times it feels like just another day at the office…" Emma sighed which inevitably led to a wide-mouthed yawn that she couldn't stop.

"I think I really need to visit this Storybrooke of yours," McCallen laughed, "but I'll be sure to make my travel plans after you've gotten some sleep, Sheriff. I'm gonna head back to my post now. See you in a few hours."

It wasn't quite sunrise when Emma opened her eyes but there was enough light poking through and around the drawn vertical blinds on the nearly floor to ceiling window that she could easily make out the still soundly sleeping form of her son on the cot to her right. She couldn't see the position of the hands on the wall clock so she glanced over at her phone resting on the nightstand to learn that it was currently 5:14am. Grimacing as she stretched and pulled herself out of the cloud of slumber, she couldn't help but snicker at the position she'd managed to get herself into. At some point during the night, she'd apparently rotated the chair enough to lean back and prop her feet up on the side of Killian's bed which must have seemed like a good idea to her at the time. Her back now crackled in protest to any attempt to straighten her spine.

As she lowered her sock covered feet to the floor, she tried not to disturb her husband, but she jostled the mattress just enough to jar him awake. She could see his semi-lucid mind struggling to remember where he was for a few seconds as his eyelids parted. Emma noticed that he was stirring and pushed through her own temporary aches to lean closer to him, running her fingers through his dark matted hair as she tried to persuade him to go back to sleep.

"It's really early," she whispered into his right ear as she toyed with a stray tendril that curled across his temple. "Regina won't be here for hours so just try to get some more sleep."

"It's alright, Love," he replied as the fogginess gradually cleared, reminding him that he was now beginning day four in a Portland hospital room. "Just takes a moment for my head to clear and I'll be fine…" As he became increasingly coherent, he realized that the cumbersome mask no longer hung from its elastic straps around his neck, replaced instead with a thin transparent plastic tube resting against his face which was delivering oxygen directly into his nostrils. But even without the annoyance of the mask, he found the aggravation of his irritated and parched throat persisting. He knew he could ask for his wife's assistance to reach the cup of water setting atop the rolling table that stretched above his legs but he'd grown weary of feeling like a helpless invalid. He needed to do this for himself.

She felt him lean forward, initially believing that he was shifting to a more comfortable position, but as his gaze locked onto the paper cup just inches in front of him, she started to open her mouth to offer her help. No words managed to come out though when his body shuddered abruptly into a fit of coughing spasms. His hand, still outstretched toward the cup of water, slammed against the table instead which upended it causing the contents to spill across the tabletop and drip onto the bed. Emma swiftly pushed the table away and moved over to sit next to him on the bed, holding him tightly as the coughing evolved into dry heaves. She didn't release her embrace until the spasms subsided while imploring him to try to take deep breaths. He tried to comply, but the uncomfortable burning in his chest was a constant warning that even the seemingly simple act of breathing was still an agonizing task.

"Bloody hell…," he wheezed, taking in rapid, shallow gasps of air until he could relax once again.

"I would have gotten that for you, you know…," she admonished his stubborn streak as she retrieved her own bottle of water from the nightstand and removed the cap. "Here – take some of mine until we get this cleaned up." His hand still shaking too much to hold onto the plastic bottle himself, she brought it to his lips for him, allowing him to take a few swallows to appease the fire in his throat.

"Thank you…," he sighed as his weary body shrank back against the mattress and pillows. "I was hoping to manage such a simple task by myself, but clearly I'm too clumsy for that yet…"

"Killian, you've barely been conscious for twelve hours. You've got to give yourself some time to heal and let us help you. No one is going to think anything less of you for asking and besides, what just happened had nothing to do with you being clumsy. Your body involuntarily started a fit of coughing that you couldn't control. You've got to stop being so hard on yourself… None of this is your fault."

"It's just that the sooner I can do these simple tasks for myself, the sooner I can get out of here…"

"And that time will come soon enough," she assured him. "There's no need to rush things. My dad is taking care of the station. Regina is coming to get Henry and I'll be right here with you until you're strong enough to make the trip home and then if you want me to, I can heal all of those lingering injuries for you."

"I guess right now I'll just have to settle for holding you?" He scooted his hips slightly to his left, then patted the narrow open space on the mattress as invitation for her to slide closer. "You've looked so uncomfortable in that chair…"

"And you think that squeezing both of us onto this tiny bed is better?" she giggled, glad to see his playful side emerging again.

"I'm willing to try…" And there was the smile she couldn't resist – the sly, sexy, sweet and genuine Killian Jones unencumbered by his own defensive walls and suddenly she found herself ridiculously blushing at the mere thought of sharing a bed with her own damned husband. It didn't matter that he still had a long way to go to fully recover, he had her grinning like a fool again and that was all that mattered.

#cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fan fiction #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfiction #the right place

[professionalhorror]

The Basement

I'm not a fan of Jennifer. I've been stuck in this basement with her since Tuesday. I don't know how we got here. She said she remembers a great big flash before she got here. I don't but I take her word for it. We think the world may have ended. Makes sense because we haven't heard anything outside since then. We don't talk much.

We’ve been here for like five days. The basement is surprisingly full of water and food so that wasn't an issue. Being trapped in a small room with a complete stranger is the problem. I’ve tried to make conversation, try to keep our spirits up in case the world really isn’t over but it didn’t really work. She said she didn’t remember much before being in this basement, probably something to do with trauma. SHe also didn’t want to talk about what she did remember. That was cool with me, I didn’t remember much from before either.

The third day we were stuck in this basement she decided to venture out and see if the outside world was still intact. I like to think it was cabin fever that made her feel the need to leave and not the need to be away from me but who knows, it was an awkward three days.

When she was away I tried a few different things to keep myself from going crazy. There were a few board games and assorted knickknacks in the basement that I played for a few minutes before tossing them aside because I can’t really play any of them without Jennifer. I thought about leaving as well, finding Jennifer outside, and seeing if everything was okay. I’d like to think that if the world wasn’t over Jennifer would come back and let me know but we barely know each other, she might forget.

Early on the fourth day Jennifer came back. We may not have talked much before she left but that felt like we were a happy married couple compared to after she got back. She snuck down the basement stairs and slid into a corner and couldn’t be moved from it. She just rocked back and forth, staring straight ahead. I tried to talk to her a few times but every time I got nothing but a stare. I asked her what she saw, I asked if the world had ended, I asked if she was okay, but it was a fruitless venture.

On the fifth day in the basement she didn’t move. Not to eat or drink or anything really. It made me very anxious. What could she have seen up there that had such an effect on her? I wanted to go over and comfort her. I don’t know why but I felt this pull toward her. I didn’t want to tell her but part of me was happy she was back. Even if she something was wrong with her, it made me feel good to know she was alive.

I fell asleep very suddenly on the fifth day. The sun was still out and I don’t remember making the decision to fall asleep early. One second I was walking around the basement and the next I was passed out. It almost felt like I blacked out but I woke up the next day and was in the makeshift bed I had thrown together so I assumed I was just more tired than I had thought.

Jennifer was different on the sixth day. She wasn’t in the corner bor was she scared or staring anymore. When I woke up she was drinking some water. She asked me who I was and how they got down here. I told her that there was a big flash of light. She said she thinks the world had ended.

Something had changed. This wasn’t the Jennifer who I had been down in the basement with all this time. We didn’t exactly get along but we knew who each other were. And what had happened to her memory? She was the one who told me about the flash of light when I first woke up, now she doesn’t remember. Whatever had happened when Jennifer went upstairs changed her. And now she seems different again. Not like she was when she came back. Not even how she was before she left. Almost like she’s been replaced. Like her mind holds no similarities to the Jennifer I had been in the basement with.

I had to go upstairs and find out what was going on for myself. Whatever was up there may have wiped Jennifer’s mind and the same may happen to me but I still had to know. If whatever was out there could do that, then Jennifer was in danger. I was in danger. I felt an overwhelming need to help Jennifer. I don’t know why but seeing her not recognize me killed me. How could she not know who I am?

I told Jennifer I would be back soon and I hugged her farewell. I climbed up the basement stairs as lightly as a mouse. I put my ear to the door before opening it. Glass clinging and metal scrapping. I had never tried to open it before, the thought had never even occurred to me. I wrapped my hand around the basement door knob and twisted. It wasn’t locked. Nothing barricading it closed, no chain lock, no nothing. Free to go. So I did.

I slowly pushed the door open and slunk into the hallway it presented. I slowly crept along the floor, poking my head around every corner. I had no idea what would be waiting for me, but seeing what happened to Jennifer meant that I couldn’t take any chances.

I saw the faint glow of a light down the hallway. Light seeping out through the bottom of a closed door, holding the warmth inside. I slowly made my way to the door. I was careful to check into any room on the way, lest I be found and fall into a potential trap. The sound of glass clinking and metal scraping only got louder as I approached the door. The source of the sounds was coming from that room.

I wrapped my hand around the door knob that would show me the illuminated room and I slowly twisted it.

I took a deep breath and then I threw the door open. I saw a dining room table full of food. Glasses, some filled with wine, others with soda, rattled on the glass table top. The metal scraping was the sound of a steak knife cutting through red meat and digging into the plate beneath it.

At the table were two small children, one girl and one boy. At one end of the table sat Jennifer. At the other end was me. No, how can that be? Jennifer was just downstairs and I am right here. What is going on?

The little boy wiped his mouth on a napkin, “You forgot to lock the basement door again Margaret.” The boy said.

The girl but her glass down, “It’s okay. Your latest dad has been on the fritz lately, Ben.” Margaret said.

“True, I guess we can replace him ahead of schedule.” Ben said. Ben pulled a remote out of his jacket pocket and pointed it at the me sitting at the dining room table. Ben pushed a button and the thing that looks like me slunk down in his chair and stopped moving.

“Welcome, father. I hope you won't have as many glitches as your predecessor.” Ben said.

“I don’t understand.” I said.

“You will, once we add your new chips. We have to keep you running for a few days before you assume your normal place. It helps iron out the bugs. Don’t worry, your new chips won’t hurt. Just like your last ones. Right, Mom?” Ben said.

I turn to look at Jennifer. That look was the same one I saw in the basement yesterday. Rocking back and forth. Staring straight ahead. “No, it doesn’t. Just a quick flash of light and then it’s over.”

Margaret took the older version of me away from the table. I heard the clang as she threw him outside the house. Ben took me by the hand and brought me to his laboratory.

Ben and Margaret really are lovely kids. And I couldn’t be happier to be with my wife Jennifer. We spend all day together talking while the kids are at school. We’re out of the basement but together as long as we can be.

I sometimes walk to the basement door and put my ear against it. I listen for the next wave of replacements. Another version of myself and Jennifer are down there. I listen to them talk. They talk about a big flash of light. They think the world is over.

#horror #story #stories #short story #short stories #horror short story #horror short stories #read #reading #reader #writing #write #writer #writerslife #writers life #writer's life #horror story #horror stories #horror writing #scary #scary stories #scary story #scary stories to tell in the dark #scary writing #creepy #creepy pasta #creepypasta #creepy story #creepy stories #creepy writing

[viralnewstime]

After a five-year wait, Purity Ring are back with their latest album, Womb. The Canadian duo – comprising Megan James and Corin Roddick – first formed in 2010, releasing their debut full-length Shrines in 2012 to exceptional critical review. The second single from the album, ‘Fineshrine’ currently has more than 58 million streams on Spotify, was named one of the best songs of the decade so far by Pitchfork, and made it onto triple j’s Hottest 100 for 2012.

The group’s second album Another Eternity was released in 2015. Another Eternity featured single ‘Begin Again’, which came in at number 87 on the triple j Hottest 100 for 2015, and currently has over 25 million Spotify streams.

Vocalist Megan James tells Music Feeds she hopes the forthcoming album “feels like a place where people can rest and sit in and feel some kind of comforting escape for the brief time that it runs for.”

In this interview, we have a chat with James about the band’s creative process for the album, her personal favourite tracks, and how she’s holding up during quarantine.

Music Feeds: You guys have mentioned that Womb “chronicles a quest for comfort and the search for a resting place in a world where so much is beyond our control”, which seems pretty relevant to what we’re experiencing right now. What were you thinking about, specifically, when creating this album?

Megan James: Yeah, as it happens, it is applicable. I feel like, it’s odd how applicable it is right now. Mostly I think that’s just because we made the record from home and like, made a conscious decision to stay home a lot, whereas a lot of times throughout the previous records, we would travel somewhere together and like, go on some kind of writing trip. But yeah, I felt like, after touring Another Eternity – which was extensive, like, we toured for a really long time – we both needed a lot of space after that, to sort of like, come back to ourselves, and I think staying home to write this record sort of was born of that feeling. It’s like, we want to be home as much as we can ‘cause as soon as we’re done we have to go tour again.

So, yeah, I feel like that really played into it. Like, I am the kind of person who absorbs a lot from my environment, and therefore my home becomes a place where… how it feels and like, what’s in it and yeah, what it feels like it encompasses is really important to my creative process. A lot of that was like, a major part of just how this ended up being. It wasn’t like, that conscious what the record ended up being about, that’s like, more I guess how the personal poetry of the past five years of my life, it just so happens. But I think overall it was just staying home, and needing to for our creative process.

MF: This album was entirely recorded, produced, and mixed by yourselves. How was that process different from previous albums where maybe you had other people mixing or helping out in different ways.

MJ: Well, it’s not actually that different. Like, we usually… we have always done everything ourselves. I guess for our third record it was something we did more decisively, ‘cause it’s a lot easier to get things done faster, especially living in LA, it’s like… if you have a problem it’s really easy to call someone up and get it solved. I dunno, that’s never our go-to because we have, like through our creative process over the years we’ve realised that if it’s not coming from, exclusively from the two of us, it doesn’t feel like Purity Ring anymore. Also, it’s just sort of like a DIY mentality that we’ve always had. It’s like when we started making music, we did what we had to, like, it was all in Corin’s basement where we recorded, and then it was like in the living room in the Montreal apartment, and now it’s in the spare bedroom [laughs] at our house.

And it’s not because we could do anything differently now, necessarily. Like, we’re not at the stage where we can like, have the big studio and have like, all the gear and make a bigger deal out of it or whatever. It’s just like, what we’ve always done. But this time Corin did mix it himself. He mixed the Shrines record, and then we had someone else mix Another Eternity, and then he wanted to do it again this time, which was a big deal, it’s a lot of work. But yeah, it comes at the end. So, the writing process is all pretty much the same with how it has been.

MF: Do you have a personal favourite track from the album?

MJ: It actually changes. For a long time, it was ‘Rubyinsides’, I really like ‘Rubyinsides’. Corin’s favourite is ‘Sinew’, definitely. When we finished the record, I really liked ‘Vehemence’. Like, I wasn’t sure about it before and then I really liked it. It’s funny how it comes together. You don’t always know what it’ll look like at the end and it’s often unexpected. I mean, obviously we like all the songs, they made it to the record but, yeah, how my initial reaction to them traverses quite a lot over the process of making it.

MF: What’s your favourite lyric that you’ve ever written, across any of the albums?

MJ: Hm, that’s a really hard question. I don’t remember a lot of them, honestly. Like, I don’t really look back or listen.

MF: Or maybe from this album, if it’s easier?

MJ: Yeah, maybe from this album it would be… I think, there’s a bit at the… I think the end of ‘Femia’ is my favourite thing. That gets stuck in my head a lot and I feel like it has the elements of poetry that I am usually aiming for, in a very compact way. It just feels really satisfying.

MF: How are you planning on spending your time during this quarantine/isolation period of our lives?

MJ: Well, like I said, I spend a lot of time at home to begin with. Work from home is like… it’s funny though, ‘cause like, all of my creative process is already here and then, since the quarantine started, I’m having a harder time than ever actually being creative. I didn’t realise how much I’d have to wrap my head around what’s happening, even though it’s like, it feels like I’m alone but I know I’m not, but also… I dunno, it’s like, it’s developing into a thing that… it’s so big and so real that it is really hard to know what to do with it but I feel like we have to do something with it, otherwise, we won’t get anything done [laughs].

I don’t know, I have a lot of… I’ve been sort of going through phases, and initially, I was like, this is great, I’m gonna like, start a sourdough starter – which has been two weeks, it’s going great – I can make bread. I’m growing sprouts. I’m like, doing all these sort of, self-sustaining things so that I don’t have to go to the grocery store I like planted potatoes [laughs]. Working at all these things that will just like, maintain being able to stay inside longer.

But then it’s like… I’m fortunate enough to be okay, with where we’re at right now, but it feels like survival mode. I guess one thing I could say though is, I do really appreciate how everyone’s first instinct was sort of to like, help each other. In the first week of quarantine I got more phone calls from like, distant friends to like, have a Skype hang or whatever than I ever have before and it’s like oh, everyone’s really thinking about each other. It gave me a lot of hope for whatever the new normal is.

MF: Yeah. I think that’s very accurate though, about the reduced motivation to do things. I’ve definitely been feeling that as well, in a weird way.

MJ: Really?

MF: Yeah, like even with writing and stuff, I’m like, I’ve got to do it but… it’s hard. When the world feels like it’s almost falling apart, it’s hard to get motivated. I dunno, it’s weird.

MJ: Yeah, it’s like… It’s so heavy that you can’t hole up and pretend it’s not there. Because like, it’s affecting everyone anyway. It’s hard to define at this point.

MF: It is. I’m sure in the future there’ll be lots of stuff about it written.

MJ: Oh yeah. But also, I just hit this point where… it got heavier recently. Like, I started feeling more emotional than I was the first couple of weeks, so, I don’t know about you, but I’m like… it’s starting to hit harder.

MF: No, for sure. I think that’s definitely a thing.

MJ: Like, it’s beyond cabin fever, it’s like… whoa, what is happening? I feel like, crazy in a way I’ve never felt before, so I don’t know.

MF: Yeah, ‘cause the first week or two it’s new and it’s different, and then you get a bit further in and it’s like oh, this isn’t ending, this keeps going…

MJ: And it’s like, shifting still, because it doesn’t end… We’ll see though, I hope we’re all okay.

MF: So do I. Are you marathoning any Netflix shows or reading any books during this time that are particularly good?

MJ: The usual. I watched Tiger King, which was great. Also, Crip Camp was a beautiful movie, also on Netflix. That one was very moving for me. And then, I had like, a funny sort of coincidence, I guess. I watched this movie Safe the other night, which is from… I think it was made in ’87, which is right after the AIDS crisis in America, so it’s like, kind of pertaining to that, and it has Julianne Moore. Anyway, the next day, The New Yorker wrote an article about how that movie applies to what we’re going through right now, and it was like… the movie really affected me, and then the next day was this article, and I was like, oh, this is easier to think about, ‘cause it is the kind of movie where it’s like… I was affected but I wasn’t sure why, like, ‘whoa, what just happened to me? I have so many feelings!’. But yeah, that was a really good movie, and on point, weirdly. Kind of like a timeless message, I guess.

MF: Yeah, I find that’s kind of strange as well with like, a lot of media out there, whether it’s albums or movies or books, some of it just weirdly relates to what we’re going through right now, without even… you know, being created years before. Whether I’m just reading too far into it, I dunno.

MJ: No, but like, the first movie I watched when this all started was Contagion, obviously. But that was like, eerie how on the nose it was. So, yeah, there is a lot of entertainment that predicted this. It’s so weird. But also it’s time. Pandemics are… I think the main thing that affects society, and it’s every century or so it happens. We’re kind of like, due for one. Or that’s like… I have read that, I’m not saying that of my own accord.

Actually, the last book I read it was last year at some point. Reading books has been a thing that’s on the list that I procrastinate about. I read The Lost City of the Monkey God, which is like, it’s kind of like, about treasure hunters, I guess [laughs]. Anyway, that was interesting ‘cause it’s also about how they’re… like, they all go deep in the jungle, where people haven’t been for hundreds of years, and they come out with leish[manaiasis], and they all… the virus has been around since the beginning of time, but there’s still no cure and it still exists. I’m not making any sense, but the book’s related to what we’re going through now.

MF: Yeah, I think you’re right. I think it has been shown that every hundred years or so there seems to be something. Who knows why that is…

MJ: Yeah, it’s nerve-racking and we’re in it and there are no answers because there are not many people around who have been through this before.

–

Purity Ring’s new album ‘WOMB’ is out now.

The post Purity Ring’s New Album ‘Womb’ Is A Resting Place In A World Out Of Control appeared first on Music Feeds.

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[zolganif]

Have you ever been scolded by a mall cop? Never actually encountered one before.  How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? A whole lot  Is there anything that you want to do, but won’t because you’re too afraid? No. Who was the last person to yell at you? No idea. Who gets up the earliest in your household? The latest? My dad usually does on the weekdays. On the weekends I get up the earliest  Have you ever had a pet walk across your keyboard while you were typing? No.  You’re going to your favorite foreign country; what landmarks do you go see? I don’t know  What is the longest amount of time that you have spent away from your home? A whole month  Did the last movie you watched have any emotional effect on you? No. What motivates you to go to school? Nothing. How much caffeine have you consumed in one day? No idea. Are you more hyper and up-tight, or laid back and relaxed? Laid back and relaxed  When was the last time you heard someone talking about you? No idea. How did you pick out your last outfit? I just picked out whatever I felt like wearing for today  When buying shoes, what do you look for in the product? Comfort comes first, then appearance. What happened to cause the last mess you made? Eh  When was the last children’s b-day party you attended? Never been to one  Are you good at reading other people’s body language? Sort of  If you’re sick, do you go to school or do you stay home [usually]? It depended on how sick I was  Does chicken noodle soup really make you feel any better? It can. What is one meal that you like to eat while sick? Anything that helps me feel better, unless if I have an upset stomach.  Think of the last survey you filled out; did you enjoy it? I guess it was okay  Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? I have in the past. But now I know its no good for them  Is it hard to imagine you were ever as small as a 1-2 year old? No  What set the tone for your mood today? Nothing. Have you ever set out to ruin someone else’s day? No. Thats just a stupid, and fucked up thing to do.  Has you ever felt like the whole world was against you? Yeah. The name of the last video game you played? Thief  The name of the last board game that you played? Probably fucking Monopoly. I don’t know how many times my brother wanted me to play that game. It takes forever to finish, and he always cheats at it.  What was the last thing that you told yourself? I don't know. How many times a day do you wash your face? Once or twice  Do you remember your D.A.R.E. officer’s name? No Someone throws hot coffee on you; how do you react? I would be fucking pissed.  Is there a high school or college that you would rather be attending? Nope. Have you ever lived in an apartment or duplex home? Yeah  Has anyone ever commented on your weight? Mhm Where do you stand when it comes to sexual intercourse? I enjoy it.  Name a show from the 90’s that you miss? Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Who provokes your sarcastic side the most? Kyle.  Have you ever thought about joining the military? No. When you were little, did you ever stare at disabled or “different” people? I couldn’t tell you.  Could the contents of your bedroom get you in any trouble? I guess something of Nick’s could, like his bowl that still has a little weed left in it.  Do weather patterns sometimes have an effect on your health? Yeah. Like I’m more happier when its cool, cold, and not too hot. When its very hot and humid out, I feel miserable. Fuck summer.  If it snows a lot where you live, do you experience cabin fever? No. When was the last time someone disapproved of something you were doing? I don’t know  How good are you at getting along with other people? Alright  Do you consider yourself to be approachable? I guess?  Do you know anyone that’s a little emotionally unstable? Myself. Have you ever felt like you were going out of your mind? Yeah Has anyone ever suggested that you might need “help”? Yes. Do you take offense to things easily? It depends on what it is.  Do you like to give people a taste of their own medicine? Eh, not really.  How was the service at the last restaurant you visited? It was good. Are you ever jealous of happy couples? I have no reason to be.  Describe a thought that is sticking with you today? Nothing in particular  Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind? Nick  In a car: air conditioning, or roll the windows down? Air conditioner. When was the last time you did anything to your playlist? Today Is there a new song or band you’ve discovered? Not recently  What teacher gives you the most homework? What type of personality do you find most annoying? Someone who is cocky, full of themselves, lies.  Are you punctual? I don’t know  Have you ever howled at the full moon? No  Have you ever seen yourself on camera? Yeah Do you give any consideration to what’s said in your horoscope? No