#in January it all went down the drain when I moved out and forgot about it and got sucked into the routine of going to my internship and

[aziliang]

Dream Journal

Geto Suguru, a burnt out arts major who just wants to pass his last semester as 3rd year in peace, when suddenly he is overwhelmed by several blurry dreams or nightmares that leaves him catching his breath and crying as he wakes. He makes it a routine for himself to write all the dream details in a notebook once he wakes up, as the memories of his dream are short-lived and vowed to burn the book once the dreams stop or once it’s filled up with his dream logs.

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↷ ⁞ 12 26 20

↷ ⁞ 03 : 35

I woke up at this ungodly hour, all sweaty... My dream was weird. I felt like someone's pulling me into a room and the next thing I know I'm in another place... It feels familiar to me but I can't recognize the place if I've been there. I feel like I have but I have no memories regarding the place. I saw a kid that awfully looks like the person who got my handkerchief, Jogo? Gojo? Forgot what his friend called him, I think he’s  from law and I saw a kid who looks like my carbon copy... They were playing and I felt like falling from the ground's sudden opening. Did the ground just swallow me? Lol. Then it was summer and someone pulled me again out of the door this time. I was once again falling and I woke up in my bed just minutes ago, all sweaty and somewhat exhausted. It’s weird and hella draining. I felt like I haven't slept at all and just ran around for kilometers just by laying down.

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↷ ⁞ 12  31  20

↷ ⁞ 04 : 25

I just want some peaceful complete sleep and rest, enough for me to heal from my academic and club shit. Why can't my dreams and my mind cooperate? I am once again woken up at this ungodly hour. I'm still kinda sleepy but i have to write this down. I've been dreaming about this for 3 days now.

Apparently, I went into a door that sucked me in and transported me to a meadow. A flower meadow perhaps, I can feel the summer breeze. I looked around and I saw myself. For real, I saw myself and I thought he was staring at me. I was wrong, he was staring at the running boy, whose face was blurry . Uhm, is he in love with him... Damn, my dream self isn't straight either. 

The blurry boy ran towards the younger me... He was crying... Something about moving houses away from Miyagi... Near Tokyo... What..? I'm in Miyagi? I don't remember this field in Miyagi... I want to hear more from them. I stepped closer but as if I triggered a trap door, I'm falling once again in the pit of darkness.

I woke up again a few minutes ago feeling very exhausted, I think that was the longest pit of darkness I fell into. I met Gojo, Gojo Satoru from Law, since he thought Law school is easy. We met properly on the night of December 28, talked... For starters, I'm not attracted to him. But I feel a sense of familiarity, he feels like home or a warm coffee during winter.

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↷ ⁞ 01  21  21

↷ ⁞ 11 : 50

I just woke up... I had a short sleep since I fell asleep at around 5 am, after I drank the coffee. My dreams are like old broken tapes... Since I went out for a night stroll with Satoru the dreams changed and repeated...

I dreamt about falling into the middle of the empty city. Someone with a blurry face held me tight. He was hugging me and I felt at home in their embrace... He called me Guru... I'm not Guru or Ru... I saw him blushing and said he missed me... This dream continued on until the night of January 21.

I had an unsettling feeling last night before I went out to buy coffee... Like my heart was heavy and breaking... I felt a warm feeling when I saw a scarf or ribbon of some sorts by my door... There was this sense of familiarity in it. I think I fell asleep while staring at it when I took it in...

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↷ ⁞ 02  02  21

↷ ⁞ 12 : 55

My dream resumed and changed last night... I saw how the blurry guy hugged my replica... We're at some airport..? The next thing I saw was a blurry guy crying on a bench... He whispered some words, some were unintelligible. I heard him whisper i love you... And I was sucked out of the airport...

I woke up and saw my notifs saying that Satoru was the owner of the scarf? ribbon?... He went to his friend Utahime and accidentally dropped the piece.. Utahime... the name stings in me like a bitter metallic feeling, I don't know why and certainly couldn’t explain...

Tomorrow's already my birthday... I just hope that I can sleep well, I can't go home for my birthday tomorrow... Maybe I'll just celebrate alone and sleep.

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↷ ⁞ 04 28 21

↷ ⁞ 11 : 45

I've been forgetting to write here, but I'm here to write about my dreams again…

I don't get why I feel so attached to Gojo Satoru already... I just know that he makes me feel at home. The other night, I asked him to sleep in my dorm. I was really worried... maybe because of one of my dreams. The blurred guy in my dreams, I saw his face weeks ago and he awfully looks like my Satoru. I saw how tired he was while driving home at the same critical time of dawn. He was from Guru's house, the guy who looks a lot like me... 

Sato [learned his name through the other old tape-ish dreams] was mumbling things and close to spacing out. something like "I loved you too, Ru. so much..." he sighed and he continued his mumbling "I guess this lifetime is not for the both of us." then he spaced out, he nearly hit the car in front of him at a stoplight if he didn't snap back to reality... this is scary for me... he shouldn't have driven if he's this tired... he started to drive, clearly absent-minded to where he's going because he's trying to call someone in his phone... Guru. he's trying to call Guru. As he was trying to call Guru, he didn't notice the cars in front of him at the stoplight.

There, I saw how great the impact was, the front of his car was smashed, the engine was out in the open. broken windows and glass... Sato... he was severely injured on his head. his feet are stuck, I can see he was in great pain. but he smiled... he smiled when he saw that Guru answered the call. Before Guru could say anything, Sato already spoke.

"Ru... I don't have much time left..."

"Guru, p-promise me that you'll find me in our n-next life because I'll do my best to fi-nd you..."

"I.. I love you, Guru. so much. i s-swear to find you in our next life..."

The last thing I remember from the dream before I woke up is Sato smiling sadly when he hears Guru singing on the other line.

It was painful to see that, to hear every line. I woke up in the morning, crying my eyes out... I felt everything that Guru probably felt that night and hurt me so much...

and I'm crying as I write this lol I really don't know what's happening to me...

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“Damn, we were that dramatic in our past life???” Satoru laughed as he burned the remaining pages of what used to be Suguru’s dream log, when dreams of their past life started to pester him.

“Talk about dramatic, some weird force made me remember those and pestered me months before we even met properly, just too blurry to bother me. YOU WERE THE DRAMATIC ONE, feigning innocence that you don’t know anything about our past life.” Suguru couldn't help but smack his boyfriend in the forehead.

“Your dreams stopped when you saw me dying?”

“No, it was kept on repeat until I put things together after a month and then confronted you. The dreams keep on getting much more realistic as it reoccurs.”

“Hence the repeated asking me to come sleep over and always looking after me? Am I correct, your honor?” Satoru teased, raising his eyebrows as he waits for the other to respond.

“Yes attorney, you are indeed correct… Bastard.”

“You love me, Suguru”

“Well I sure do, Past, Present, no matter how many lives we live. I will always love you, dumbass.”

“I’m one lucky dumbass to have my one and only Suguru, then! I love you, will always do.”

They laugh as they continue to watch the sunset enveloped in each other’s arms by the shore, as the book turns into ashes leaving behind what was in their past and focuses on what they have now. Each other. 

#satosugu #gojo satoru #geto suguru #reincarnation #mild hurt/comfort #angst #fluff at the end #major character death but ressurects #angst with a happy ending #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[atasteforsuicidal]

five years ago today, i had my first shift at 10am at starbucks, the whole time during which my sister was in labour and i was eagerly awaiting news. then i had class that night at 6pm, and she was still in labour. i saw my beautiful, itty-bitty niece for the first time as i sat in one of utm’s lecture halls learning, ironically, about developmental psychology. i still remember getting utterly distracted looking at the first photos my mum sent me of my sister holding her.

it’s so fucking wild to me how time flies?

in that time, i’ve only been able to spend one halloween, one birthday, and two christmases with her, among a handful of non-holiday trips, including visiting for the birth of her little brother and two bereavement visits. last year was actually the most times i’ve visited home in a single year since violet was born, and it’s almost like the world knew what was coming, because with this pandemic, i can’t begin to guess the next time i’m going to see my family from back home. it will be a year come january, and lord knows we won’t be much closer to a solution by then, given that it’s barely two months away.

it will never stop making my heart ache to miss all those celebrations and milestones, not just for one little darling anymore, but for two, and video-chatting tonight to wish my mum and my niece both a happy birthday and hearing that little girl tell me she misses me and she’s sad that i can’t visit broke my heart. knowing that river is going to have no real memories of me from his younger years kills me - i saw him four time in his first year of life, and then that was it. i met him sooner than i met violet, but he won’t have the same kind of spread-out memories of me that she does. it kills me.

in that five years, i also lost two grandparents, and i watched from afar as my other grandmother and one of my uncles struggled against, and ultimately beat, cancer. i received the kind of messages you don’t ever want to receive - i had to call the ambulance for your father. your aunt had a stroke. someone had a miscarriage. your cousin’s wedding is off. your grandmother is in the hospital. your grandmother is gone. your grandfather is gone, too. your other grandmother had a bad fall. now she’s had a stroke.

but there were good calls, too. ever since the 911 incident, your dad hasn’t needed insulin anymore, it’s like something reset in him. your sister’s pregnant again. your cousin is pregnant. that cousin is also engaged again. and there were good visits, too! my parents visiting for my graduation from university. a different cousin’s wedding. river’s birth. a christmas where everyone came home for the first time in years and years and years. a birthday visit from my mum.

i actually graduated from university with an hba after taking two years off in the middle of the degree. i sat on my ass and did nothing with that degree, hemming and hawing over going for a masters. i had a few really wonderful visits with some important friends. i got closer to my cousin kat, and i met morgan. i made some new friends at a regular gaming event thanks to some co-workers. i discovered some new things about myself. i learned to explore my own intimacy. i got active in fandom life again and made some new online friends. i started seeing a therapist. i went back to school and have been absolutely killing it. i started writing again. i actually spoke to one (1) whole person on a dating app. for the first time in my life, i have savings (ignoring the fact that i still have student loans, too). i have really good credit, after struggling on-and-off with debt for years.

but i also broke my own heart - badly. i lost touch with a lot of people who still mean so much to me, and i broke a really important promise to one of those people in doing so. guilt eats at me every day for it. my social anxiety grew worse than it ever was before, and i closed myself off. a mix of social anxiety and a change in location had me not really seeing those games night friends anymore. i forgot how to do anything but keep people at an arm’s length. forgot how to trust, how to let people in. more than ever before, i am a listener and not a talker. it took me days to tell my roommates about my grandmother’s stroke. hell, kat knew my other grandmother had died because her parents called her and told her so she’d come pick me up at work, but when my grandfather passed, i don’t think i said a word to my roommates until i already had my flight booked. i started college in the hopes of meeting people and a global-fucking-pandemic pushed my classes online, secluded me more than ever. i continue to be atrocious at keeping in touch with people online, too, and thus continue to estrange myself from my family and friends, and being unable to visit makes it even worse. discounting kat and her parents and brother, i saw family for the first time in a year this month. that’s. that’s unheard of, in my family. it’s just not done.

and throughout all of that, i’ve had so many ups and downs at work, too. i’ve worked at three different stores in these five years; worked under nine different store managers, two interim store managers, and five different district managers; and, in a few months, it’s going to be coming to an end. i’d be lying if i didn’t say that i’ll be a bit sad, but, more than anything else, it’s going to be a huge weight off my shoulders, and i’m so looking forward to my departure. it’s too social a job. literally being told to talk to customers makes me want to run into traffic, that’s how bad my anxiety has gotten. these last two or so years, making “customer connections” has felt like pulling teeth because opening my damn mouth to make words come out feels like it’s going to kill me. that’s. that’s so fucked up. i spend more time at work thinking about creative ways to kill myself than i do about actually enjoying my job. it’s a shame, it really is. i work for a surprisingly good employer - not a perfect one by any means, but a good one. i used to love the job. now it makes me miserable, and it’s only partly because of the micromanaging.

seeing hundreds of faces a day is exhausting. and then coming home to people who are significantly more social than myself... it’s draining. i feel like i’m being crushed under the weight of it sometimes. i’m under no illusions that the career path i’m aiming for now will still require socialization, but it’s not going to be at that same level. it’s a job that will drive empathy and give you the chance to actually connect with clients you see and correspond with regularly rather than customers who get lost in an endless sea of people day in and day out. i’m ready for that change, i really am.

it’s been a long five years, and it’s been draining, and exhausting, and discouraging in a lot of ways, but it’s had some really rewarding times, too. it’s hard not to look back at the start of those five years and wonder what the fuck happened that i’m still where i’m at now, but the important thing to remember is that i’ve already started the process of getting out of this slump. my motivation comes and goes, and i seem to be dipping into another slump again, but that always happens as winter approaches; i’m used to it now. it’s important to acknowledge where you’ve been and what you’ve gone through, but i just need to keep telling myself to keep my gaze ahead of me and continue moving forward.

so, yeah. ramble-rant-thing over, i guess.

here’s to five more, or whatever. may i have a lot more successes to bring forward at that point.

#this was supposed to be a short little wow time flies post #instead i decided to dump my emotions everywhere holy shit i'm so sorry #uhhh cw for talk of death and illness and depression among other topics #oh and i guess for mentions of suicidal ideation #maybe i can find something in here to talk to vivian about later this week

[mistymark]

the one with the feelings [1] // m.k.l

mark lee x reader // 1.9k words // part 1/2 // masterlist

summary; in which mark and y/n have a lot of feelings but never at the same time apparently // the times we fought our feelings for each other and the one time we didn’t

warnings; drinking // light angst? // heartache

request; no I just saw this prompt and loved it

notes; why does this remind me of love, Rosie (I cried three times in that movie)

October 2012, age 13

The squeaky sounds of sneakers on the polished wooden floor and the bouncing of basketballs was all you could hear as you watched the other students run around, throwing and catching balls between them with grins on their faces. Spinning around, you searched for Mark, your best friend and latest crush - after having helped you clean your wound after you scraped your knee on the asphalt at school.

Nowhere to be found, you decided to duck under the back of the bleachers, your secret sanctuary when you didn’t want to partake in PE. Lifting the curtain to allow yourself entry, you saw Mark, grinning at a figure in the dark.

It took you a moment to notice their interlocking fingers, their touching shoulders, their legs brushing against each other’s as they squished together on the bench. Letting the curtain fall from your grasp, you hang your head and disappear into the bathrooms, unseen.

February 2014, age 14

You sat on the rickety chair in your ill-fitting school-dance outfit, watching the couples dance awkwardly on the dance floor. Spotting Mark across the dance floor, standing beside the drinks table as he waits for an opportunity to stop talking to one of your teachers, his hands casually resting in his suit pant pockets. The jacket hangs off his skinny frame a little too much, making him appear smaller than he actually was.

A few moments later, he was walking over to you, two cups of the terrible punch in his hands as he narrowly dodged the dancing people in his path. A grin found itself on your face as he sat beside you, passing you one of the cups.

You sat together for a while, talking mindlessly about the dance and school and whatever else came to mind that night. When there was a bout of silence, Mark placed his cup on the floor, wiping his slightly sweaty palms on his pants as he tried to muster up the courage to ask you to dance. His mouth suddenly went dry.

Within a second, a hand was being outstretched to you, the smiling face of one of the boys in your class looking down at you, asking you to dance. Having not yet been asked to dance, you eagerly grabbed his hand, letting him pull you out of your chair and onto the dance floor. 

Mark stayed sitting, waiting for you to come back. Waiting to ask you to dance.

August 2017, age 18

The flashing lights and loud bass was slowly starting to make you feel numb, but you watched with a grin on your face as Mark danced on his living room table, the small wooden piece of furniture barely supporting his weight as he moved. 

You had lost count of your alcohol intake, and Mark was clearly drunk, dancing haphazardly on top of the table. When the song ended, one of the boys nearby turned down the volume of the speakers, yelling, “Speech! Speech!”

Soon enough, everyone was chanting for Mark to deliver a speech, and he stood casually atop the table as he handed his beer to someone next to him. He addressed the crowd, “You’re all here! It’s my birthday, thank you.” His eyes found yours, “Oh, Y/n! Come here.” When you didn’t move, he waved you over again.

Eventually you stood below him, looking up at him in confusion, whisper shouting up at him, “What are you doing?” Your foggy brain struggled to focus on Mark as you watched him sway lightly on his feet.

He grinned at you and grabbed your arm, helping you up onto the table. When you were stood safely beside him, he wrapped his arm around your waist, “Everyone! Tonight would not have been made possible without Y/n,” he turned to look you in the eyes, his face serious, “my best friend.”

There was a beat before someone started cheering, and then the music was slowly being turned up as people turned to each other, happily chatting and resuming their dancing.

You stood still on the top of the coffee table with Mark, his arm still wrapped tightly around you, his eyes staring into yours. His gaze flickered to your lips, and he stared at them for a while, silently debating whether he should go for it.

And he did.

Suddenly his lips were on yours and your hands were cupping his face, his arm holding you against him as his other hand rested on the back of your neck.

With the cloudiness of your brain and the sensation of Mark kissing you, you found it difficult to focus on your surroundings, but the obvious squeak of the table was enough to pull you from the haze. With great difficulty, you pushed yourself away and stepped off the table, tugging Mark’s hand so he followed you.

Before Mark’s foot met the ground, the table was crumbling, snapping in half at the added weight and movement from your actions. He winced drunkenly at the table, then decided it was best to go find a sensible adult to deal with the problem, quickly making his way to the kitchen and abandoning you.

December 2017, age 18

You sat silently on the porch of your house, the porch swing creaking as you swung slowly, your gaze fixated on your feet. Christmas was always a busy time for your family, with all the parties and events your family hosted, but it seemed that no one had come looking for you yet, so you found yourself in the only quiet part of your house; the open porch.

There was a door slam on the street, and you looked up as Mark’s parents stepped out of their car, his mother carrying a large wrapped gift and his father a tray of dessert. Mark, dressed in a suit jacket and black jeans, stepped out of the car only to run back to grab something he’d left.

His parents continued up the drive to your house, greeting you with their warm smiles, “Hi, dear. How have your holidays been?”

You grinned back at them, noticing again how much of his parents you could see in Mark, “Brilliant, thank you.” You pointed your thumb in the direction of the front door. “Party’s inside.”

They nodded and smiled a little wider when they realised you weren’t coming inside with them, but you dismissed it as you continued lazily swinging on the porch swing.

A moment later, Mark was jogging up the drive, taking the stairs two steps at a time to reach you, puffing slightly, “Hey.”

You continued swinging, a smile on your face, “Hey.”

He stood up straighter, examining the outside of your house, “The place looks great. New door?”

“New door,” you nodded. 

“Looks good,” he stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, nodding to himself.

You raised an eyebrow, “I haven’t seen you in, like, a month and all you have to say is that my door looks good?”

“It’s not the only thing,” he smirked at you, pleased with himself before untucking his hands and making his way over to sit beside you. “I got you something.”

“You- what? No, Mark, you didn't have to! I didn’t get you anything,” you were suddenly ashamed of yourself; why hadn’t you gotten him a gift?

“Oh, come on, it’s not a big deal,” he shrugged, smiling and handing you a small box. “It’s nothing big, I promise.”

You stared at him for a moment before nodding, turning to look eagerly at the small box before you. Mark chuckled at your excitement. You opened the lid, “It’s - woah! It’s the friendship bracelet I made you ages ago!”

“When we were nine,” he corrected, beaming down at the tiny bracelet, glad that you’d remembered.

“Is this you returning my gift? You don’t want to be friends anymore?” 

“No! I thought - I thought you’d like it. I found it a few weeks ago-”

“I can’t believe you kept it.”

He shrugged, eyeing the bracelet and avoiding your face, “No big deal.”

You grinned, throwing your arms around him, “Thank you. I love it.”

You felt him hesitate for a moment before letting his arms wrap around you, holding you warmly in his embrace, the bracelet hanging off your fingers as you breathed in the scent of him, enjoying the moment.

January 2018, age 18

“1! Happy New Year!” The crowd cheered with excitement as the large ball on the television dropped, before images of people cheering, kissing and drinking populated the screen.

Your friend stood beside you, a glass raised to her lips, “You’re driving tonight, right?” You nodded, and she grinned, “Looks like I’m starting this year the same way I did last, drunk as fuck.” She toasted to you politely before proceeding to drain her glass, walking into the kitchen to find another.

There was a tap on your shoulder and you spun around, your eyes meeting Mark’s. The music started up again as the party continued, and dancing bodies swarmed onto the dance floor of the host’s living room, somebody harshly bumping into Mark, causing him to step forward, his chest merely inches from your own.

“Hey,” he breathed, his hands holding your waist from when he’d almost tripped. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” you whispered back. You weren’t sure if he could hear you, but he seemed to understand. “Any kisses this year?”

His eyes found themselves on your lips again as he leant closer, “Only one.” His lips met yours softly, the loudness and wildness of the party juxtaposing the sweet, sober moment between you two.

You pulled back, “What was that for?”

He bit his lip in an attempt to hide his smile, “I had to know what it was like.”

“What what was like?”

“Kissing you.”

February 2018, age 18

[2:47pm] Mark: got any plans this afternoon?

[2:50pm] You: not really, just packing the last of my stuff

[2:50pm] Mark: wdym?

[2:50pm] You: for college dummy

[2:51pm] You: I leave in two weeks remember

[2:51pm] You: gotta be ready :))

[2:52pm] Mark: ofc I cant believe I forgot

[2:52pm] Mark: must be bc im gonna miss you ://

[2:52pm] You: oh shut up ur such a drama queen

[2:53pm] Mark: bc ur not dramatic enough!!

[2:53pm] Mark: im not gonna see you in forever

[2:53pm] You: I’m literally going to be at ur brothers engagement party what is wrong with you

[2:54pm] Mark: I hate talking to you im gonna go pack

[2:55pm] Mark: promise you’ll be there?

[2:57pm] You: of course

April 2018, age 18

You groaned and hit the horn again, the long highway before you backed up far into the distance. The grey sky contrasted against the severity of the red brake lights ahead of you, glowering angrily at you from where they stood, unmoving. Anxious, you fiddled with the blue material of your cocktail dress, the white envelope sitting on the seat beside you, the time and place of Mark’s brother’s engagement party printed neatly on the card inside; 6pm at the Grand Wyatt Hotel. You glanced wearily at the clock on your dash, the numbers steadily increasing until 6pm hit, and later passed.

#nct dream #nct 127 #nct u #nct mark #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #kpop #nct masterlist #mark lee #lee mark #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #mark fluff #mark angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #masterlist #kpop masterlist

[bee-kathony]

The Oath | Ch. 2 “Strange Whisky Man”

a/n: thank you SO much to everyone who read and left comments on the first chapter! It means everything to me when I read that you liked this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter <3

Ch. 1 

January 21, 2019

When Claire opened her eyes to the sun streaming through the window over the white linen sheets, her mind was blank. For a few brief, quiet moments, she forgot the events of the past twelve hours. But then as she turned to her side and realized she wasn’t in her own bed, she remembered why and fear crept in.

What the bloody hell was she going to do?

She moved in with Frank three years ago when they came to Edinburgh after she graduated from university. Their home was her home. A place where they had both created memories, shared Christmases and even talked about getting married.

As she sat up, her hands moved to her forehead, pressing against the temples to ease the throbbing ache. She was going to take things one day at a time. And after all… Geillis had said she could stay as long as she needed to, thank God she had a spare room.

Feeling a bit lost without her phone, Claire sighed as she put one foot after the other on the carpeted floor and stood. Her joints popped as she stretched her hands high above her head.

“You can do this, Beauchamp.” Claire took a deep breath and steeled herself for the day, ready to face whatever new challenges came at her.

When she walked out into Geillis’ living room, she was surprised to see boxes of her stuff sitting on the floor.

“Geillis?” She called out, walking through the house to find her friend.

“In the kitchen!”

The red headed woman was standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand, flipping bloody pancakes. Claire felt overwhelmed by so many different emotions and walked over to Geillis and wrapped her arms around her.

“Oh, Claire.” Geillis smiled and wrapped one arm around her waist. “Ye alright, lass?”

“I will be,” Claire smiled as best she could. “I just… love you a lot. You’ve picked up my stuff from my shitty ex and now you’re making pancakes.”

“Aye,” Geillis grinned and then turned back to the stove. “I’m just doin’ all these nice things for ye so someday when I need a favor, ye have no choice but to help.”

Claire scoffed, “I don’t think I have a choice whether I help you or not. Geillis Duncan does not simply ask, she demands.” They both laughed at the truth of the statement. When Claire had first moved to Edinburgh, she had been quite reserved and was slow to make friends. Geillis had spoken to her on her first day of work and Claire knew they would hit it off.

Her friend was also usually right about everything. Last night, Geillis had mentioned how she never felt right around Frank and now there was a reason why. He was a cheater, a liar and a manipulative bastard.

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep the tears at bay, Claire walked over to the cabinet, grabbing a glass for water.

“Did you get my phone by chance? I hope I don’t have too many missed messages.”

“Och, aye I did. I plugged it in on my charger in my room, ye can go and get it.”

“Thank you again,” Claire smiled and went to fetch her phone. When she unlocked it, she had only one message from a colleague updating her about a patient who was in critical care. Thankfully all was well, but Claire felt a little depressed that she only had one missed message. She really needed to get out more.

Claire joined Geillis back in the kitchen and hopped up on the counter.

“So, what’s this distillery thing again?” She swung her crossed ankles back and forth in the air, trying for any conversation that would distract her from thinking about Frank.

“Tis a company called ‘Fraser & Co.’, a family business I think. Anyways, my friends Rupert and Angus ken the owners and asked if I wanted to tag along,” she smiled, waving the spatula in the air as she talked. “There’ll be free whisky all night long, a good reason to get sloshed eh?”

“Right. Sloshed,” Claire sighed. She hoped with time that she would regain some feeling, some sense of humanness but currently all emotion had simply been drained out of her.

“It is okay for ye to try and have fun tonight, Claire.” Geillis flipped the last pancake and then turned to face her. “I ken it’s been no even twenty-four hours and ye’ve every right to be heartbroken, but sometimes a girl just needs a few stiff drinks and one night to pretend she hasna been hurt.”

Geillis was right. Again. What Claire didn’t need to do was wallow in self pity, that would only get her nowhere. And besides, she didn’t exactly want to keep crying over Frank fucking Randall — he didn’t deserve her tears.

“I’ll try my best,” she offered a warm smile and satisfied with her answer, Geillis turned back to the pancakes.

“Good. I’ll be by yer side the entire night and if ye ever want to ditch, just let me know,” the red haired woman drizzled warm syrup over the fluffy pancakes and just as she passed the plate into Claire’s hands, her stomach growled.

“Christ, I’m starving!” She laughed, took the fork offered to her and dove in. “Haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday, I’ve no idea what got in the way of dinner last night,” she said sarcastically.

Kicking her in the shin lightly, Geillis laughed. “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp isna lost to the world after all.”

++++++

It took Claire a bit longer than she expected to find something to wear tonight and no surprise there since all of her stuff had been quickly packed into boxes. In reality, she didn’t own a lot of clothes or personal items.

Perhaps it was because when her parents died, she had moved around a lot with Lamb. He was an archaeologist and so every few months, they traveled to a different country which meant hoarding things like band t-shirts, books and any other normal teenage girl items were out of the question.

Once on her way home from work, Claire had passed by a store with a lovely display of vases and almost purchased one. She wasn’t exactly sure why she didn’t buy it — after all, she had a home with Frank and a table or mantle to place it on. She had stability.

Had.

Muttering things to herself like, “foolish woman, should have noticed,” Claire took her time getting ready. Opting for simple black fitted jeans and a cozy sweater, her next task was to tame her curls.

Growing up, she hated having curly hair and had always wished for straight hair like her mother. But Julia Beauchamp had insisted that Claire learn to love her curls and also how to properly take care of them.

Proper care was thrown out the window when she traveled around with Lamb and since then, she hadn’t taken up putting in the effort again. It wasn’t that her hair was unkempt, but it often resembled a bird’s nest… an inviting one nonetheless.

Forcing herself to wear a little bit of foundation and mascara, Claire put the brush down and looked at herself in the mirror.

“Not bad, Beauchamp.”

When she walked out to where Geillis was waiting, she stopped and stared at her friend. She was wearing a short black dress with a deep v-cut and thigh high boots. It was January… in Scotland.

“What? Too slutty ye think?” Geillis followed Claire’s gaze and looked down at herself.

“No, no not at all,” Claire whistled, her eyes wide and then laughed. “You look great actually, but now I feel rather frumpy.”

Giving her a once over, Geillis screwed up her face, “Aye, ye do, but ye have an excuse. It’s no like yer goin’ to be keen on talkin’ to any men. So this way they’ll be sure to stay away!”

“Geillis!” Claire gasped, feigning shock and hit her playfully on the arm. “Okay, now you look like a slut.”

“Grandma,” Geillis retorted and then grabbed her car keys.

++++++

The grand opening party for Fraser & Co. was being held at the owner’s estate according to Geillis’ friend Rupert. The two women had picked up their two companions, also Scots of course and made the short journey to Lallybroch. From the little Claire knew of Gaelic, the word ‘Lallybroch’ meant something like ‘lazy tower’ and she very was interested to see if such a tower existed.

“So, Claire,” Angus leaned forward from the backseat, his face a bit too close to Claire’s to be completely comfortable, “How long have ye known our lass, Geillis?”

Avoiding unnecessary contact, Claire leaned forward so that her back was at an awkward angle and turned her head towards Angus. “Almost three years, feels like ages though.”

“How come we’ve ne’vr met ye then?”

“Claire doesna get out much, ye ken,” Geillis chimed in. “She’s a big boss lady and doesna have time to hang out wi’ the lower class.”

Claire nudged her friend in the side, rolling her eyes. “You know that’s not true. It was Frank who insisted on spending all of my free time with him.”

“Who’s Frank?” Rupert, the burlier of the two men asked.

“No one important anymore,” Claire said and put an end quickly to that rabbit hole.

A short time later, they arrived at their destination. It wasn’t very late in the day, 7pm to be exact, but the sun had set a long time ago and so the only lights on the estate were hundreds of twinkling fairy lights hung all around. The home looked absolutely magical and Claire decided that this is what all typical Scottish fairytale homes looked like.

They had arrived a bit later than expected due to getting lost in the dark and therefore had missed the opening speech from the owners welcoming them to the launch. The four of them quickly found the open bar, however, and Claire was now onto her second whisky of the night.

Rupert had just told a joke that had made the entire crowd around them laugh in hysterics, but not Claire. While she enjoyed the company, her heart wasn’t in it to be surrounded by so many people.

“I’m just going to take a walk around, I’ll be fine,” She said to Geillis, giving her a cheerful smile as she slowly wormed her way out of the crowd.

As she stepped out of the house to get some fresh air and enjoy the pretty lights, Claire was thankful she had worn a comfy sweater instead of trying to give off the impression that she wasn’t absolutely freezing. Even with her hands tucked under the material of her sleeves, however, she still shivered.

“Yer shaking so hard, yer makin’ my teeth rattle just at the sight of ye.”

Jumping a little at the unexpected company, Claire looked over to her right and saw a very tall, broad, red haired man leaning against the wall.

“Do ye want a plaid or maybe a coat?” He asked her kindly and then approached her. She knew the man was waiting for an answer to his question, but when he came closer and she looked into his blue eyes, she forgot any language that made sense.

The man gave her an odd look and then reached out, waving his hand in front of her face and finally she shook her head, and her speech was restored.

“No, thank you. I’ll be just fine,” she smiled and then turned to head back inside the house. Claire had come outside to get away from people, and this man who made her incapable of coherent thought was getting in the way of that.

“Ye dinna seem like ye want to be around people,” He said just as her foot hit the first step.

“Your point is?” She gazed over at him, noticing the subtle quirk of his mouth, and the deep auburn shine to his curly hair.

“I ken of a place wi’ a few less people is all,” he smiled and before she could tell herself no and to go find Geillis and ask to go home, Claire retraced her steps and came to stand in front of the man once again.

“Show me, then.”

Observing that she had come outside for to find quiet, the man didn’t speak as he lead them around the estate and to a large stable. Only when he disappeared inside an office looking room and returned with a plaid, did Claire speak.

“Thank you,” she smiled, accepting his kind gesture to keep her warm.

“Dinna fash. Canna have ye freezin’ to death!” He laughed — a deep laugh that made Claire want to tell a joke just so she could hear it again.

“So why did you bring me to the stables?” She asked and took a few steps in, looking around at the horses that were in their stalls.

“Och, I always find the company of a horse to be more favorable than people,” the man said and walked up next to her, his hands down at his sides.

“I’ve never ridden a horse before,” Claire mused out loud and came to stand in front of a stall with a beautiful black horse. “Don’t know anything about them really.”

For whatever reason, Claire felt comfortable in this stranger’s presence. Perhaps it was being around the horses, but as he stood next to her, she suddenly longed to know everything about him.

“Ye are a Sassenach,” the man chortled, “That doesna exactly surprise me.”

Claire looked up at him and was once again struck by the blueness of his eyes. “A Sassenach?” She pronounced the word slowly, trying to mimic his accent.

His eyebrows shot up and an amused look crossed his face, “I only mean English, tis another term for ye… an outlander.”

“Hmmm, I hope it’s used affectionately,” she snorted a bit and then covered her mouth with her hand. Only did she snort when she felt totally relaxed and right now she blamed the alcohol.

The man only laughed and then suddenly disappeared back into the office. Claire mentally shrugged and wrapped the plaid tighter around her body, returning her attention back to the horse in front of her.

“Would ye like a dram?” The man said from behind her and she turned to see him holding two glasses of whisky.

“What do you own the place or something?” She laughed, remarking at his ability to produce items from seemingly out of nowhere but took the glass he offered her.

The scot stiffened beside her, his left hand tapping twitchy fingers along his thigh. “Och, I ken the owner a wee bit.”

“I see. And he has no problem with you showing random strangers his stable and drinking his hidden whisky?”

The man grinned over his glass, “None at all.”

Claire wondered exactly who he was, but decided not to push further. She took a sip, letting it burn her throat and then took a seat on the bench near the entrance. The man awkwardly stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do but ultimately took a seat beside her.

“What do ye think of the whisky?”

He was sitting very close to her and she could smell his aftershave — minty with a hint of spice that lingered in her nostrils. The man also radiated heat and she no longer felt the need of the plaid, letting it fall off one shoulder.

“It’s very good,” she smiled and remembering the glass in her hand took another sip.

“I’ll be sure to let the owner know that a beautiful Sassenach who’s never ridden a horse in her life enjoys his whisky,” the man said with a cheeky grin and Claire had the sudden urge to poke him in the stomach. So she did.

“Och! What was that for?” He laughed, rubbing at the spot she had poked him.

“Sorry,” she bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing but ultimately burst into a fit of giggles, one so strong that tears filled her eyes.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” she sighed as her laugh began to wind down. The man stared at her, clearly amused, but also maybe a bit frightened at this hysterical woman he had engaged in polite conversation with.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?” He asked and she thought that he genuinely cared to know the answer.

The simple answer was yes, she was just a bit tipsy, but the real answer was far more complicated.

“I’m not really sure,” she said truthfully, earning her a distinctly Scottish noise from beside her.

“I didna expect such an honest answer,” the man grinned, his eyes full of sympathy.

“I’m not usually one to pour my heart out to a complete stranger,” Claire took another sip of whisky. “But you make me comfortable strange whisky man.”

“Strange whisky man? Yeesh,” the man chuckled and then offered his hand out to her. “Jamie, madam. Pleasure to meet ye.”

It took her a moment to move her own hand into his, but when her skin made contact with his, a bolt of electricity shot up her arm and she dropped the nearly empty glass onto the ground, making them both jump. Glass shattered at their feet, and Claire cursed herself for being so clumsy.

“Dinna move, Sassenach. I dinna want yer wee feet getting hurt,” Jamie stood and carefully avoided the glass. He went into the small office and came back with a small broom and dustpan. That room really did have a bit of everything.

“I’m so sorry,” Claire said. “I’ll buy the owner another glass. Christ, Beauchamp!”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. Tis alright, I ken he willna mind, besides ’twas an accident,” he brushed up the remaining bits of glass and dumped it in a waste bin. With a final check to the area, Jamie offered both his hands to Claire and she took them, once again feeling that same buzz on her skin.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what?” Jamie hadn’t let go of her hands and she was fine if he never did.

“For cleaning up my mess.”

“I think I’d do anythin’ for ye, Sassenach.”

The air between them was so charged, so electric that Claire was sure if a match was struck, they’d both burst into flames on the spot.

Jamie’s hand moved from hers and slipped around her waist, holding her close to his body and she felt the heat of him against her skin. There was nothing else that mattered in this moment other than the thought of what his lips would taste like on hers.

She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“Sassenach,” Jamie whispered and she stood on her toes and paused, her lips a breath away from his.

“Kiss me.” And he did.

Chapter 3: “Nooks & Books” 

#the oath #chapter 2 #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #strange whisky man #lfkdjsflkdjs #i love this chapter ngl

[lovehaswonangelnumbers]

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/planet-alert-april-2020/

Planet Alert April 2020

Planet Alert April 2020

By Mahala’s Astrology

Welcome Spring! Thank goodness we are on the way to some nice warm weather and more sunshine. I am writing my article a little early this month because of all that is going on in the world. I was totally surprised how fast the whole earth was shut down. I never believed it could happen that fast. For those of you who are staying home; I hope you are enjoying your time off. For the service workers who are still working; I thank you for being the great Beings you are as you continue to help people. What would we do without the nurses and doctors and the people who keep the grocery stores open so we can still get food, and many others who help in many different ways. I bless all of you.

Here is a quote from Kitty O’Meara. “And the people stayed home. And read books and listened, and rested and exercised, and made art and played games, and learned new ways of being and were still, and listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people begin to think differently. And the people healed. And in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal. And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed”. Thank you Kitty!

In my last article I talked about the 24th chapter of Matthew where it says “when you see a man standing in the Holy Land giving a speech (that would be Trump when he gave his speech in February) then it is time to take to the hills because there will be a time of tribulation like there has never been before.” We are now in that time period because of the Coronavirus. It has affected the whole world.

The Bible also says that this time period would be shortened to save the Elect. This must mean that the virus will not be in effect for as long as the leaders are saying it will be. Right now, the energy of fear is running rampant and this is why we are in the time period of shut-down, which needs to happen to stop this virus.

March is the 3rd month of the year and the word fear adds up to 3. I guess that is why they say March is the month of madness. Maybe the energy will improve when we move into April because that is the 4th month. Passover starts on April 8 and continues until April 16. The full moon is the night of April 7th.

We are experiencing the repeat of the Moses drama right now. Think about what happened in the movie The Ten Commandments. (Hollywood style of course.) Moses went to the pharaoh and said “Let my people go, they want to be free.” Don’t we also want to be free from control right now? Then in the movie many people died, which is happening right now with the virus. Then darkness came upon the land.

In Matthew Chapter 24, it says “At the time of the great tribulation the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light. The stars will fall from heaven and the heavenly bodies will be shaken.” What will cause this darkness to happen? Could it be the planet Nibiru? I almost forgot about that planet because people had stopped talking about it. Then the other day I received a picture of Nibiru (the Red Kachina) and the email said it is approaching Jupiter’s orbit right now which will soon make it visible to the naked eye. Link Jonas Passos March 16th.

Another prophecy is that the rivers will turn red as Nibiru gets closer to us. This is from the red oxide that comes off the planet. Then I received another email about how the rivers all over the world are turning red right now. Link Rivers and Waters are Turning Red. This is the only thing I can think of that could cause the sun to be darkened and the moon to not give its light, and the heavenly bodies shaken.

The Bible seems to put things in order of how they will happen. First it talks about the man standing in the holy land (USA) then the great tribulation (virus) happens and everyone becomes fearful of this virus. That sure has happened. Then it says that the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light.

Right after that happens, it says “the sign of the son of man will appear in the heavens and the people of earth will rejoice because we will see the son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory”. He will send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather the elect from one end of heaven to the other. This is when we move into the new earth.

I think this time period is getting close because Passover happens in April and so does Easter. If this darkness does happen at that time, are you ready? The conspiracy theory says that the darkness starts on April 1st and will continue until April 10th, which is Good Friday. I don’t know exactly when this will happen but it is the next thing on the agenda. I know I have repeated much of what I said in my last newsletter but I thought it was important to repeat it because we are now in the great tribulation and the darkness could happen at any time.

Many planets have been lined-up in Capricorn since January 12-13, 2020. Capricorn rules structures and governments and look at what has happened since January. The structures are coming down big time. I have never seen anything like this happen in my life- time, have you? 

Mars went into Capricorn on February 18, 2020 and started triggering all of the planets in Capricorn. Mars is an energy planet and is good at triggering events. When Mars made an aspect to Jupiter, the stock Market started to go down and is still going down. This is so the new money system can come onboard, which is already set-up and ready to go. 

Pluto rules viruses and that is why the pandemic got so bad in March because Mars had been approaching Pluto. Mars and Pluto are exactly conjunct today. This means that a crisis has happened, and now Mars will start moving away from Pluto, although it may take a while before the virus leaves.

Mars will be in Capricorn until the end of March, and then Mars will move into Aquarius and join Saturn. This will be an entirely different energy because Capricorn rules control and Aquarius rules freedom. We will then move out of the control energy and start manifesting freedom. I think April will be a very intense month because the sun will be in Aries which is ruled by Mars until April 20. Then the sun moves into Taurus and everything changes.

Light manifests the energy of 11/2 and the word dark manifests the energy of 16/7, which is the Tower Struck by Lightning in the Tarot. I think the towers are starting to fall. If we add 2 + 7 it adds up to 9 and that is the energy of love which is the glue that holds our Universe together. Love encompasses everything so “Think with your Heart “and we will make it through this great tribulation with flying colors. Maybe everything will change for the better by Mother’s Day. Wouldn’t that be nice.

So Be It.

***** Written in light and love by Mahala Gayle ****

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[vampirefreakism]

The Scientist (Chapter 30)

Summary: In the events following Asgard’s destruction, Loki finds himself on Earth seeking refuge to await the inevitable. Much to his surprise, it comes from a source he would never have expected.

AO3 Link

The Soundtrack So Far

Warnings: some shock, idk stuff happens, Peter is sad

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Wow, look at me go, feeding y'all well before we all die from Endgame in a week. I will absolutely perish when I see it on opening night. But cross my heart, I will not spoil anything for anyone. We all need to suffer together.

Masterlist

----------

In the wee hours of the morning, sleep left Loki to fend for himself in the dark. He opened his eyes slowly and searched for any threat or presence daring to stir him. He spotted none, but lo and behold, someone was fiddling with the window latch.

Loki quietly rose to his feet, ready to attack if need be. He crept to the corner by the lamp and lay a finger on the switch. A surprise would be best, he reckoned. The shadowy figure slowly slid the window open and reached one hand in, then the other. They felt around and grazed against a table beneath the windowsill. The hands hovered and grasped either edge of the open window.

A head appeared through the open space, followed by the torso and a leg. The stranger raised a hand up onto the wall, gripping the flat surface, and put the other above it. Loki was dumbfounded. The intruder was crawling up the wall and onto the ceiling. It wasn’t the strangest thing he’d seen in his life, but he could not have envisioned this at such a time and in such a place.

Loki waited for them to make a silent landing on the ground to turn on the light.

“What are you doing here?!” he commanded, eliciting a muffled shriek from the masked individual.

“Loki! Wait, wha-what are you doing here?!" They pointed at him. Loki took three wide steps and grabbed them by the shoulders.

“How do you know who I am?!”

The confrontation was interrupted by some loud swearing, clattering, and the door to Luna’s bedroom swooshing open. With a well-placed scowl, she charged at the two.

“Loki! Peter! What is going on?!” She looked at Peter. “Why are you here?!”

The discoveries never stop for Loki, it seems. “Peter?!” he exclaims, letting go of the boy.

“Why is Loki in your apartment?!” Peter says, frantic and winded from the old mask over his face.

“Why is he dressed like Spider-Man?!”

“Because he is Spider-Man!” Luna yells louder than the two boys, stunning them silent. “Peter, why are you in my apartment at 2 am?!”

Peter yanks off the mask and reveals his wet face, skin flushed from the cold. Loki is at a loss for words.

"I was out swinging around, and I ran out of web fluid, and I forgot to pack extra so I fell and I was too tired to go back home, and yours was closest, so I thought I could just crash here." He paused and took a few short breaths. "I was gonna leave you a note under your bedroom door and sleep on the couch. I didn't know he was here!" Peter finishes rambling and hangs his head. "I'm sorry."

Luna’s shoulders drop as she places a comforting hand on his arm. “It’s ok, Peter. It’s ok.” She cradles his cheek, lifting his head up. “Oh, you’re freezing. Come on, let’s get you something nice and warm to drink before we do anything else.” She leads him to the counter and seats him. “And give me your shoes.” He pulls them off and hands them to her. She puts them by the door and strolls into the kitchen. “Tell me, why’re you wearing your old suit? The other one would’ve kept you warmer.”

"I didn't want Mr. Stark tracking me." Peter fiddles with his cold hands. "He gave me hell when I took it out the first time, and I didn't want to bother him on his vacation with Ms. Potts."

“Yeah,” Luna says sympathetically, recalling the drama surrounding the incident. “You want some hot chocolate?”

Peter nods. “Mhm. If it’s not too much trouble.”

"Of course not." Luna squeezes Peter's forearm reassuringly, and she catches him wince. "Peter, you're hurt."

“Nah, I’m fine.” He waves his other hand. “I heal real fast anyway.”

“That I’m sure of, but after this,” Luna gestures to the jar of hot chocolate powder, “I’d like to make sure you didn’t seriously injure yourself.”

“Sure. That’s fine.”

As the milk boiled and Peter’s drink mixed, the trio kept a tense silence. Luna contemplated what to ask him once they were alone, Peter silently wallowed in shame, and Loki observed the scene in front of him. He had much to think about before the morning came and more to talk about with Luna than he previously believed.

Peter drank his beverage, doing his best not to guzzle it down. The early hours of January took more from him than he planned, but the chocolate gave some of it back to him. He was grateful, and he made sure to voice it.

“Thanks. That was really good.”

Luna smiled, happy he liked it. “Come on. The bathroom is the best place.”

"Ok." Peter complied and followed. Luna had him enter first as Loki had followed them and leaned against the wall beside the door. Confusion apparent on his face, it was clear he demanded an explanation. If Luna weren't so upset with him, she would have laughed.

"Give us a minute, and I will give you all the context you need," she answered his wordless question and disappeared into the bathroom.

Peter stood under the single ceiling light, looking drained and defeated. Luna felt for him. He needed someone, and she be damned if she left him to fend for himself.

“Hey,” she greeted as she imagined a mother would. He looked at her and gave her a weak grin. “Before we start talking, I really do want to make sure you’re physically ok.” He nodded. “Ok, breathe deeply and tell me if your ribs hurt and where.”

Peter did as she asked, grimacing a bit as his lungs filled with air. He exhaled and brought his hand to one side of him.

“Hurts a little here,” he touched a spot on the back of his ribcage, “but it’s not bad. It’ll be fine by morning.”

"I'm sure it will. Do you have any numbness or soreness that's not from the cold?"

“I don’t think so, and I’m feeling warmer now.” Peter rubbed his arms.

Luna nodded, but she wasn’t done with him. “Now, will you tell me what really happened?” Peter nodded. “Did you have another bad dream?” he nodded again. “Same one?”

He nodded again but caught himself. "A bit different this time, though."

“What was different about it?”

"I was trapped, and I couldn't move, like usual," Peter spoke quietly, "but Ben was there too."

“No,” Luna breathed out.

"And I still couldn't escape, and he got, you know, he, you know." A tear fell from his eye as the other one brimmed. "I couldn't do anything, just like the first time."

“I know, Peter, I know, but that wasn’t your fault. None of it is.”

"And when I woke up," his voice cracked, "I went to be with May, and I found her looking at his picture, and she was crying." Tears streamed down his pink cheeks and dripped on the front of his sweater, darkening the red. "I just couldn't burden her, so I left and just kept swinging till I got here." He fought it well, but a few sobs made their way out from him.

Luna gave in and held his tense body against hers. “It’s ok,” she affirmed to him. “None of it’s real, you’re safe, and no one blames you.” She rubbed his back. “You’re ok.”

Peter hugged her back. “I don’t feel like it sometimes,” He said, voice muffled against Luna’s shoulder.

“And that’s ok, too.” She stroked his head, soothing him. “You’re still young. There’s enough time for you to be ok and for you to know it.”

Luna pulled back from him and handed him a tissue. Exhaustion catching up to him, Peter sat on the toilet seat cover and cleaned his face off. Luna crouched by his side so he could see a friendly face. She may be underslept and furious, but the poor boy shouldered a heavy burden. She’ll stay by his side as long as he needed her to.

“Hey, did you hurt your head when you fell?”

Peter shook his head. “No. Why?”

“I want to try something. It might help you feel a little better, but I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.”

“Sure. What is it?”

"I'm going to hold your head in a certain way and squeeze it a little. I do this to Tony all the time when he's feeling anxious, and it really helps him. Would you like me to do it to you?" Peter ponders her offer, rubs his forehead, and nods. "Ok. Stop me if you feel any discomfort."

Luna stands and, as she did with Tony, places one hand on Peter's forehead and the other on the back – over the cerebellum. She holds his head steady and gradually applies pressure. It's an odd sensation, but Peter welcomes it, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. Luna keeps no track of time, only staying cognizant enough to feel Peter lean against her, his body relaxed. She lets go, and he comes to, shaking his head and blinking the sleep from his eyes. His face is calmer and his breathing evener.

“That was really cool,” he remarks. Luna smiles, glad he feels better. Feeling more in control, Peter sniffled and cleared his throat. “So, you guys are roommates, huh?”

“Yup, you got it.” Luna spots him tapping his knee and relents. “Gosh, go ahead and say it.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates.” They share a laugh. “So why is he here, exactly? Like, in your house?”

“Well, when he first got here, he was in pretty bad shape.”

“How so?”

"His clothes were torn, and he was covered in soot and blood. He looked so hurt and haunted. He would deny it if you asked, but I could tell. Anyway, Tony was going to put him in that RAFT prison they set up via the Accords, and I just couldn't let him do that, so one thing led to another, and now, Loki is here."

“Wow, Mr. Stark was really going to do that to him?”

“Yeah. Sometimes, I wonder if I did the right thing by bringing him here.”

“I think you did. Probably one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for anyone.”

“Thanks, Pete.” Luna gives his knee a pat. “Ok, I think the next course of action is for you to take a warm bath.”

Peter shook his head and stood. “Oh, no, I don’t need to take more from you. I already showered at home.”

"You were out in the freezing cold, and you fell on the icy street. You need a rinse, at least. I have a fresh set of clothes for you anyway.”

“Because of last time?”

“Yup. One of those ‘just in case’ scenarios. So, what do you say? I can wash your suit for you.”

“Ok.” Peter gave in, his body craving warm water and clean clothes.

“Great.” Luna opened the door and led him out. “I’ll get you some fresh towels. Just wait here.”

Peter placed himself beside Loki. He didn't wander far after being left to his own devices. Peter's gaze wandered to his tall alien friend, and they looked at each other, one studying the other.

“She do this for you too?” Peter asked, keeping his voice low. Loki was a bit taken aback, but he answered.

“Yeah.”

Peter hummed and dropped his eyes to his mentor making her way towards him, arms stacked with towels and folded clothes.

"Here's everything you need." Luna handed him the bundle. "The shower is clean, and you can use whatever soap you want if you feel like it. I'll be right out here if you need anything else."

“Thanks, doc. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome. Now, hurry it up so you can rest.” Peter nodded and closed the door behind him, only reopening it to toss his suit into the hall. As the sound of running water hit Luna’s ears, she picked up Peter’s clothes and threw them in the washer. “Ok, what do you want to know?” she asked Loki.

He crossed his arms. “Why is he Spider-Man?”

Luna sighed. "When he was 14, he got bit by a radioactive spider during a class trip, and he got powers from it." Loki's form relaxed, his arms dropping to his sides. "Wall-crawling, super strength, heightened intuition. The works. It was a freak accident, but he took it in stride. He's Spider-Man because he feels that so long as he has these powers, he should use them for the betterment of his community."

Loki’s worry for the boy increased tenfold. “Why is he here?”

"He gets nightmares. Recurring ones." Luna bit the inside of her lip. "He's been getting them since he dealt with this bad guy one time and the guy collapsed a cement roof on him. He was able to get out by himself, but in his dreams, he can't, and he stays trapped. He had one tonight, but this one was really bad, so he left his home to clear his head. The rest is what he said."

“What of his aunt? Does she know?”

Luna shook her head. "No, not entirely, but I should tell her he's here, so she doesn't worry." She went to her room, grabbed her phone, and sent a text to May, letting her know Peter was with her, and she'll bring him back in the morning.

Taking the time by herself to think, Luna looked at her bed. She was a kind and hospitable person, but she would be hard-pressed to let anyone sleep on her bed, especially a teenage boy she wasn't related to. The only option she had for Peter was the couch. She would have to kick Loki off of it, but he would be forced to sleep on the ground. Unless she decided on the unthinkable.

She exited her room and stepped past Loki to grab extra linens. She changed everything: the pillowcase, the sheet covering the couch cushions, and the blankets.

“What on earth are you doing?” Loki inquired as Luna shook out his sheet set and folded it.

"I'm going to have Peter sleep here. He's had a very hard night, and he deserves a clean place to rest his head."

“Could I have my set?”

She handed the stack to him. “Sure, but I don’t know why you would.”

“Since the couch is taken, I shall sleep on the floor.”

Luna was tempted to let him, but she hadn’t the heart. “Oh no. Uh-uh. I may be pissed at you, but not enough to let you sleep there.”

Loki shrugged. “Where else do you suggest?”

Luna put her fists on her hips and looked him square in the eye. “I have an idea, but I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

“So long as it’s comfortable.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that,” she took the sheets from him and led him to her bedroom, “but we’ll see.”

----------

Taglist:  @the-doctor-9-10 @pinkieperil @sherlockfan4life

#loki x oc #loki x ofc #loki x reader #the scientist #loki fanfic #loki friggason #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #marvel cinematic universe #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #mcu fanfic #slow burn #multi chapter #chapter 30 #luna fields #peter parker #spiderman

[uphillbothways0621-blog]

November 15, 2018

Jax woke up with a cough this morning and was hacking all over everything. He didn’t have a fever but I decided it was best to have him stay home just in case. We left when Anthony left for school and headed to the Express. I was hoping to get some kind of kids cough medicine for Jax. The only thing they had was Zarabees and it had expired last month. I made the mistake of asking if they had any newer bottles, they searched the store and couldn’t find any. After 15 minutes of waiting-and Jax running around the store like a maniac-the lady let me know that the supervisor went to the warehouse to see if he could find any. I left and went to the library to pay for the rental chairs and tables for Thanksgiving. Back to the Exhange we went. Now they had pulled the Zarabee’s off the shelf and they wouldn’t sell it to me since it was expired (it expired last month)!!! Now what?! The supervisor suggested I go to the pharmacy (at the hospital) to see if they had any. We left the Exchange in such a hurry that I forgot to get the Grinch lollipopS-Jax didn’t forget. He reminded me all day so Joe picked some up on his way home. (The Grinch has always been my favorite Christmas movie and I’m so excited to see the new one. It’s on our agenda to see it in Hawaii on our way home!) Apparently if the Express is out of a medication you can go there to buy it OTC at the pharmacy. Or if you are active military you can always buy it there. Now it was time to come home, give Jax a dose and get to work. Not so fast. I opened the medication only to read the dosage and it said to not give to anyone under 12!!!!! I called the pharmacy thinking they gave me the wrong med-well they did but they don’t have any kids cough med-or multi-symptom med-OTC or prescription wise on the island!!!! (I had asked if I could have my doc from NJ call something in but they didn’t have anything here!). The pharmacist called the manufacturer and told me what to dose-down and give to Jax but that the medicine cup that it came with was too big and that I would need to get a syringe. They were only open until 430 and would be closed for lunch. There was no way I was biking him back up there. I asked if Ant could pick it up for me-figuring he could get it on his way home from school, I knew there was no way Joe would be able to get there on time. The pharmacist said he would make an exception and give it to Ant but that he really shouldn’t. I didn’t want him to get in trouble so I scratched that off my list of possibilities. He offered to bike it to me but I knew there was no way he was supposed to be doing that either. Thank goodness Ali had one and brought it down to me. After all that I couldn’t bring myself to give it to Jax-it just didn’t sit well with me.

We had Nina and John over for lunch today-their nanny was a no show-for the first time ever apparently. Story is that she was sick this morning and the WiFi was down so she didn’t have a way to call out. It was insanity here for lunch today with the 4 kids. Nina and John were both FaceTiming family back home in NJ at the table so Ant and I felt like we couldn’t talk-they did get an earful I’m sure of me loudly telling Jax to get down off the table and to stop throwing things. Jax was a disaster-screaming and crying. Not making excuses for him since that is pretty much status quo for him, but today I think he was under the weather and exhausted. It was draining for sure.

The boys each made a fort-Ant was doing his reading assignment inside his and Jax was on his switch.

After dinner Joe and I parked ourselves in front of the computer to try and figure out our flights back to Kwaj. Yep-we are coming back in January and will be PCS’ing in April! We will be booking the flights tomorrow so I should know dates then as well. It’s time for me to start ordering my essentials for our return-paper towels, detergent, dishwasher packets and toilet paper!! Plus I would like to get to the furniture warehouse to see if there are any regular couches down there that we can get. The ones that we have are so bad that I don’t even sit on them or watch tv downstairs except for the occasional Birds game.

Tonight we had the talk with Anthony about SC -the man in the red suit. He has been asking for a couple years now about Santa and the elves and Rudolph. He most recently started asking last week and I felt awful lying to him. Joe and I made a joint decision that it was time to have “the talk”. We didn’t want him to find out in school-we would rather it come from us. I typed him a letter explaining all of what goes on and why and that believing in SC teaches you to believe in something you can’t see or even touch. We had him read the entire letter and then talked to him about it. It was harder for us than his first day of school! I was crying and Joe didn’t have a dry eye either. Anthony took it like a champ and said “I’m a little sad but I’m glad you told me the truth”. He also said that he knew there was something “not real” about the man in red. It was a very difficult thing to do but he is old enough based on the questions he has been asking. We told him that he needs to keep the magic and believing going for his brother and friends. That everyone is ready to learn the truth at a different point and time. We also told him that he can help us with the elves that will be showing up here next week!

We decided to have a PCS party for Harry on Sunday so this weekend is going to be jam packed. Saturday Anthony has the ITTP (international thanksgiving tasting party). I am signed up for ricotta cookies-you had to pick something from your nationality, so I will bake them tomorrow. Then Joe will most likely go fishing in the afternoon. I was invited to a PSC party in the evening (kimono themed since she is moving to Japan) and there is a shaving cream social that I know nothing about but has Jax’s name written all over it. Sunday will be Harry’s PCS/send off-he is leaving on Monday. And Monday Jax has a birthday party plus we will need to recoup from the 2 days prior. It will be busy for sure!

I saw this awesome picture of our paradise on FB and had to share.

Xo

[sevenpabosandabunchoffans]

The Meaning of Family | The Beginning or the End? {Part 1}

Characters: Kim Taehyung, Original Characters, Park Jimin, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Jeon Jungkook

Words: 5028

Genre: High School Student!Taehyung, Soccer Player!Taehyung

Warnings: lots of fluff, Jimin is suffering from a broken heart so give him lots of love, angst, smut, unprotected sex do not do what they did in this unless you are fully prepared to take on any consequences that may come from it

Summary: “Does anything ever happen between Taehyung and Kortni?”; A new person shows up and Taehyung is not too happy with their presence; Time Period - Taehyung and Jimin’s senior year, ranging over a 3 month period; Ages: Jin - 38, Namjoon - 37, Yoongi - 20/21, Hoseok - 19/20, Jimin - 18, Taehyung - 18, Christian - 17/18, Kortni - 17/18, Jungkook - 16, Sammie - 19-22 months

A/N: So since this first part answers that question, any subsequent parts to this storyline will come if it gets requested....I know, I’m evil :D Hope you enjoy! <3

“Look who finally decided to show up, Mr. Captain~” Kortni called out as Taehyung approached their regular soccer field. It was their last day before school started back up after Christmas break and their final soccer season of their high school careers was about to begin. It had been announced after tryouts that Taehyung would be the captain of the boys’ team. “I heard Joy was very eager to congratulate you.” Taehyung set his sports bag on the sideline of the empty field and pulled his soccer ball out, smirking as he joined Kortni in the center of the field. Kortni scoffed at his expression and reached out to playfully shove his shoulder. “Why are you such a manwhore?”

Taehyung held his finger up to stop her. “Ah, ah, ah, manwhores will sleep with anybody. I have standards.”

Kortni held back a laugh at that. “Pfft, what standards?”

“Well, I’ve never tried to sleep with you, have I?” Taehyung flashed her a smile as her jaw dropped in irritation.

“Oh, you are such a jerk!” She punched him on the arm as he laughed before taking the soccer ball out of his hands. “I start~” As she set the ball in the middle of the field, Taehyung took his spot across from her, still laughing. He only turned serious once Kortni nodded to him that she was ready, and they began their regular scrimmage.

After nearly an hour of playing, the score coming out to a tie, the two of them sat on the ground, sipping from bottles of water that were kept cool by the January air. “How’s Jimin doing?” Kortni asked, and Taehyung gave a small shrug.

“He’s still heartbroken.” He brought his bottle of water back up to his mouth but spoke again before taking a sip. “I don’t blame him, it’s the first holiday season since she dumped him.”

“Not to mention that she was his first love.” Kortni commented. “That would be hard for anyone to get over.” Taehyung stared at her with interest until Kortni looked up and noticed. “What?”

Taehyung shrugged. “I never took you for a romantic.”

Kortni shot him a playful glare. “Watch it, I can still kick your ass~”

“I’d like to see you try~” Taehyung laughed, leaning back as she tried to swat his arm. “Alright, I gotta get home for dinner." He said once he’d calmed down, standing up and gathering his things. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“No, I was totally planning on dropping out of school with one semester left just to avoid you.” Taehyung laughed sarcastically as the two of them made their way to their respective vehicles.

“I’m home!” Taehyung called out as he entered the house, immediately seeing Hoseok lounging on the couch on his laptop. He made his way to the kitchen where his dad was. “What’s for dinner?”

“Caprese pasta~” Jin responded as he drained the pasta. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes; can you go ask Jimin to come set the table?”

Taehyung nodded and made his way to their shared bedroom, unable to do anything but feel pain for his brother as he saw him curled up on his bed completely covered by a blanket. He sighed as he set his sports bag down, getting ready to use his normal tactic to get Jimin out of his funk. “Come on, Jimin, time to get out of bed.”

The lump on the bed shifted until the other 18-year-old was peeking out of the comfort of his blanket. “Leave me to suffer alone~”

“Sorry, no can do. It’s against the rules of this family.” Jimin retreated back into his makeshift shelter. “But seriously, it’s your turn to set the table for dinner.” Jimin stayed quiet and didn’t reveal himself again. “Alright, you asked for it.” Taehyung walked over and pulled the blanket off of Jimin, throwing it to the corner of their room so he couldn’t pull it back over himself. “Up~”

“No.”

“I will literally drag you out of this bed.” Taehyung threatened, only honesty laced through his statement.

“I don’t doubt you will.”

True to his word, Taehyung took hold of his brother’s ankles and tugged him until he was off the bed, Jimin going limp and subjecting himself to his fate as Taehyung dragged him across the floor and out of their room. Taehyung didn’t let up as he crossed the living room where Hoseok and Jungkook, who had arrived home from hanging out with Yugyeom at some point while Taehyung was trying to coax Jimin out of bed, didn’t even bat an eye as they were so used to the action. “I got him!” Taehyung announced as he entered the room with Jimin’s body.

Jin turned around and his eyes immediately widened. “Taehyung, what have I told you about dragging Jimin around like a ragdoll?”

“How else was I supposed to get him in here?” Taehyung retorted as he let Jimin’s legs fall to the floor. Jin just ignored him and moved to Jimin, pulling him to his feet, at which point the 18-year-old moved to grab plates from the cabinet.

The next day, Taehyung dropped his lunch tray on the table with irritation before sitting across from Kortni. “If my child care teacher wasn’t such a bitch then my life would be perfect.” He angrily bit into his breadstick.

“Someone’s still salty about the one time he got a B on an assignment.” Kortni snickered.

“My dad, who has worked in a preschool for 20 years, helped me make that activity plan, and she turned around and said it wasn’t age appropriate for preschoolers because it involved word labels.” Taehyung stared at Kortni, who shrugged.

“I get it, she’s a bitch who doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Thank you~” Taehyung popped a grape in his mouth. “She’s the main reason I’m happy summer break starts early for seniors.”

“On the plus side, you can now let off your frustration towards her during practice.” Kortni pointed out before taking a bite of her pasta.

A few days later, Taehyung arrived at the soccer field for practice, waving at Kortni who was on the designated field for the girls’ team, before setting his bag down and beginning to stretch. “Alright, boys~” The coach gathered them around. “Before we actually start practice, we have a last-minute tryout today. This is Christian, and he just transferred here from Cabot.” Taehyung vaguely recognized the male as the new student in his AP Lit class. “So, let’s give him a fair tryout. Taehyung,” the 18-year-old immediately looked at his coach. “Although I get the final say, I would love the captain’s input.” Taehyung nodded and waited for the coach to begin the tryout.

All throughout Christian’s tryout, the most prominent thought in Taehyung’s mind was wow this dude is cocky. His arrogance permeated through the air any time he successfully made a goal, stole the ball from someone else, or was able to escape without losing the ball. Taehyung thought he might be imagining things, but he was sure Christian was targeting him by sending smirks his way each time. Even though something was off about the guy, Taehyung knew he had to put that to the back of his mind when the coach asked for his opinion. “I can’t lie, the guy’s good.”

Christian was immediately welcomed to the team and everyone cheered, although Taehyung obviously wasn’t into it. He noticed as Christian looked over towards the girls’ team and shot a wink. When Taehyung looked over, he felt something bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he saw Kortni blushing and trying to avoid looking over.

Soon after practice picked up, Taehyung forgot about the small action, and his new teammate went to the back of his mind until a week later when he was at the first rehearsal for the school musical. “Summer lovin’, had me a blast~” Taehyung sang quietly, already running through the songs before rehearsal officially started.

“Tae,” Mr. Spiridigliozzi caught the 18-year old’s attention, “I wanted to introduce you to your new understudy.”

“Understudy?” Taehyung looked at his teacher in confusion as he stood up from where he had been sitting on the stage.

Mr. Spiridigliozzi nodded as he stepped aside to reveal none other than Christian here. “This is Christian-“

“Oh, I know Christian,” Taehyung responded, trying not to glare at the guy.

“Well, Christian expressed his interest in the musical and since he was unable to audition back in December, due to him not being  a student here yet, we went ahead and let him have a special audition, so would you mind getting him caught up to where you are with your role in these next few minutes before we start?” Taehyung nodded, not trusting his voice at that moment. “Great~” The teacher pat both students on the shoulder before walking off to speak with the choir director.

“This ought to be fun,” Christian said, that smirk once again displayed across his face.

That Friday, Taehyung sat at his and Kortni’s usual table, picking at his chicken rings as he waited for Kortni to join him. When she finally did, Taehyung’s face morphed into one of slight horror. “What did you do?!”

“Oh, shut up~” Gone were Kortni’s signature curls pulled back into a ponytail, and in their place were straightened locks that flowed a few inches past her shoulders.

“No, seriously, who are you and what have you done with Kortni Stephens?” He then squinted his eyes and leaned closer to her. “Are you wearing lip gloss?!”

Kortni reached out and smacked the top of Taehyung’s head, causing him to quickly lean back and rub it. “You know, most girls like to fix their hair and makeup on occasion.” Kortni snapped at him as she opened her bottle of water.

“Yeah, but you’re not most girls.”

Kortni scoffed. “Wow, thanks, Tae~”

“No, I mean that as a complete compliment.” Taehyung said honestly. “You’re real, unlike most girls.” Kortni rolled her eyes and didn’t respond to him, nor did she attempt to hold a conversation with him for the rest of lunch.

He got an explanation for the body invasion in 7th period AP French. He was sitting next to Jimin, furiously finishing up his homework assignment when a familiar giggle reached his ears. He looked up to see Kortni with Christian, just standing outside the open classroom door and talking in the hallway. His grip on his pencil tightened when his gaze moved down and landed on their intertwined hands. He wasn’t sure how long he stared, only snapping out of it when he felt the pencil in his hand snap in half.

That evening, Taehyung paced around his and Jimin’s room as Jimin watched him from his bed. “I can’t stand him!”

“I can tell,” Jimin mused. “If looks could kill, he would have been dead ten times over.”

“I’m serious!” Taehyung exclaimed. “It’s like he’s trying to steal my life! I used to be my AP Lit teacher’s favorite student, now he comes along and becomes the teacher’s pet. I’m the lead in this year’s musical, he becomes my understudy, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he turned out to be planning out some sort of ‘accident’ for me.” Taehyung ignored Jimin’s eye roll to continue with his rant. “And finally, he’s obviously trying to take my captain spot from me.”

“You forgot how he has Kortni.”

Taehyung stopped in his tracks. “What? This has nothing to do with Kortni!”

“Are you sure?” Jimin raised his eyebrow. “Because you’re looking a little green.”

“This isn’t about Kortni~” Taehyung said firmly just a few seconds before a light knock sounded on their bedroom door.

The door pushed open to reveal Sammie toddling into the room, Yoongi standing behind her and watching her fondly. “Pizza~” She said in her cute voice, which bettered Taehyung’s mood, but only slightly.

“Woah, did I just enter a war zone?” Yoongi asked as he bent down to scoop Sammie into his arms.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin told their older brother as he stood up from his bed. “Tae’s just a little jealous.” He and Yoongi walked out of the room to join the rest of the family for movie night.

“I’m not jealous~” Taehyung grumbled, following after them.

The semester went on and it seemed to Taehyung as if his frenemy no longer existed. What started off as just straightened hair and lip gloss turned into dresses and full on makeup. Not only did her appearance change, but so did her behavior. She became gigglier and was almost always seen clinging onto Christian’s arm. She also went from spending every lunch with Taehyung to every other day to not at all. The final straw was during early April at a party. He was leaning against the wall, flirting with Emily, one of Kortni’s teammates, when he looked up and noticed the aforementioned girl standing in the corner, looking around awkwardly. “Excuse me~” Taehyung said to Emily before making his way across the room. “What are you doing here? You don’t even like parties~” Those were the first words Taehyung had said to her in months other than during French class.

Kortni looked up, seeming surprised that Taehyung had approached her. “Christian wanted to come by for a little bit.” She answered.

“Of course, he did~” Taehyung muttered. “And where is Christian right now?”

“Oh, he just had to go to the bathroom, he should be right ba-hey!” Taehyung had grabbed her by the wrist and started to tug her towards the front door. “Let go!”

“I’m taking you home.” Taehyung said, not stopping until Kortni yanked her arm from his grip.

“No, I’m staying here with my boyfriend!”

“Do you really not see it?!” Taehyung asked, whirling around to face her. “Your so called ‘boyfriend’ is changing you!” He finally got off his chest what had been troubling him since the beginning of the year.

“He is not changing me.” Kortni insisted.

“Really? Because you literally told me six months ago that you would admit I’m a better soccer player than you before being caught wearing makeup and guess what, you still haven’t admitted it.”

“You don’t know anything about relationships, all you know is how to get in some girl’s pants!” At this point, neither of them cared that they had become the center of attention at the party.

“Well I do know that if you have to become a whole different person to please someone, then that’s not any relationship you need to be in!”

An expression of realization crossed Kortni’s face. “I get what this is really about. You’re jealous because this is something I beat you at.”

Taehyung looked at her incredulously. “What?”

“Yeah, I got into a serious relationship before you did, and you can’t handle coming second in anything, so now you’re lashing out. Grow up, Taehyung!”

“This has nothing to do with our rivalry, Kortni!” Taehyung exclaimed. “This is about how Christian is a jerk and the person I consider to be my closest friend is going to end up hurt by him!” The two of them remained silent after Taehyung’s confession.

Christian arrived a few seconds later, obviously noticing the tension between the two. “Is everything okay over here?”

Before Taehyung could tell him to fuck off, Kortni spoke up. “No, Tae was just leaving.” Taehyung shot her a look, one full of hurt, before walking out of the house.

Kortni didn’t show up to school for a few days, which gave Taehyung time to think over their argument and plan out a way to apologize to her. On the exact day he’d picked out to share his apology, he was elated to see a familiar ponytail sitting on the wall at the edge of the courtyard. He headed straight towards her, wanting to go ahead and patch things up before going to the band room to get some morning rehearsal in before class. “Well, look who’s back~” The smile fell from Taehyung’s face when he heard a sniffle and saw Kortni angle her body away from him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Go away, Taehyung~” If the sniffle hadn’t already done so, the waver in Kortni’s voice made it obvious that she had been crying.

“No, tell me what’s wrong?”

“Why?!” Kortni’s head shot up, revealing just how red and puffy her eyes were. “So, you can gloat about how you were right? Just leave me alone~” She grabbed her backpack and stood up, running off to find somewhere more private to let out her feelings.

Taehyung clenched his jaw before turning back to the parking lot, heading to where he saw a certain someone hanging around their truck with their friends. As soon as he arrived at the group of young males, he was shoving the owner of the truck. “What the fuck did you do to her, Christian?!”

“Dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That smirk was still painted across his face as he looked around at his friends who were snickering away.

“Kortni.” Taehyung said, shoving him again. “What did you do to her?”

“Oh, you mean the prude!” Taehyung felt a fire burning inside of him after hearing Christian refer to her in that way. “Yeah, I got tired of her. I mean, three months and no action, come on~” He fakely smiled at Taehyung. “You understand, right?”

“No, I don’t understand, because I don’t string girls along and make them cry.” Taehyung glared at the boy.

Christian sucked air through his teeth as he shook his head. “That’s not what I’ve heard. Then again, you have been working on her for years now, right? Maybe you’ll actually get lucky now, thanks to me.” Taehyung took a step forward, but Christian held his hands up. “Woah, woah, you don’t want to do anything to risk your precious captain spot. And we all know who Coach would pick to take your place.” Taehyung clenched his jaw and with one last glare towards Christian, he walked away.

In his child care class, Taehyung finished his assignment early, so he took the extra sheet of construction paper he had grabbed and started drawing and writing on it, hoping to have it finished by lunch. He did, and he went straight to his and Kortni’s usual table, happy to see her sitting there. He set his tray down and began digging through his backpack. “Tae, I told you to leave me alone-“

“And I will,” Taehyung assured her. “I just want to give you this first.” He pulled his hand out of his backpack to reveal the card he had made in class and the small gift-wrapped box he’d placed in there that morning before school. “Happy birthday, Kortni~” After setting the gifts on the table in front of the shocked now 18-year-old, he went to sit with Jimin. He didn’t attempt to talk to her later in French, not wanting to push her until she was ready, but he couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face as he saw her already wearing the charm bracelet that he had spent months collecting charms for.

That Saturday, he was laying on his bed reading when he received a shocking text. Are you still coming over tonight? Long before Christian appeared in their lives, the two had planned to have a movie night that weekend, prom weekend, since neither of them found the appeal in going to the school dance.

He unlocked his phone to type back his response. Is that still happening?

He received a reply just a few seconds letter. I’ve already made a pillow fort big enough for two.

And that’s how Taehyung found himself at Kortni’s door that evening. “So, your mom’s allowing you to have a guy over for an indefinite period of time tonight?” Taehyung asked as Kortni let him into her house, knowing just how conservative the girl’s mother was.

“She doesn’t exactly know.” Kortni answered. “She’s out of town on some gospel retreat.”

They didn’t speak again until a few movies later, other than commentary on the films. “So…” Taehyung turned his head on the pillow to look at Kortni, “I haven’t thanked you for my bracelet yet…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Taehyung responded, sitting up. “Do you like the charms I picked?”

“Yeah! At least the ones that I know the meaning of. Like the soccer ball is obvious, it didn’t take much to figure out the fleur de lis or the ponytail.” Taehyung reached out and lightly took her hand in his, admiring the way the bracelet looked on her. “But I can’t figure out what this 4 is supposed to mean.” Kortni fingered the gold charm dangling from her wrist.

“Oh, that’s just the number of years we’ve known each other, going back to the very first time you approached me at the soccer fields.” Taehyung explained, smiling at her.

Kortni bit her lip and took her hand out of Taehyung’s. “This seems kind of sentimental for your supposed arch nemesis.”

“You may be my arch nemesis, but you’re also my best friend.” Taehyung said softly.

“So, you don’t actually hate me and aren’t just doing the whole ‘keep your enemies close thing’?” Kortni teased, bringing small laughter from the pair.

“Trust me when I say I’ve never hated you. In fact, believe it or not, I actually had a crush on you when we first met.” Kortni was rendered speechless, only able to tilt her head as she watched Taehyung talk. “I even talked to Jimin about how in love I was. But then you came out with all that shit about trying to take me down and that was the end of that.”

“Wait, you loved me?” Kortni asked, seeming to have latched onto that one part of Taehyung’s confession.

“I mean, I was only 14 and had never had a girl actually talk to me without openly flirting with me, so-“ Taehyung froze when Kortni leaned in and pressed her lips against his. After a few seconds of registering what was going on, he let his eyes fall closed and began to move his lips against hers, soon after bringing one of his hands up to caress her face and letting the other one fall to her waist. He tensed up when he felt her hand fall on his upper thigh, extremely close to his crotch, but relaxed as he convinced himself that it didn’t mean anything, only for her hands to creep up his chest and tug at the top button of his flannel. “Wait, wait~” He lightly pushed her away. “I didn’t mean to make you feel pressured or anything.”

“You didn’t~” Kortni stated, completely serious and Taehyung could see it in her eyes. “I want to.”

She leaned in again, and Taehyung welcomed the softness of her lips on his for a few seconds before pulling back. “I don’t have a condom.”

Kortni bit her lip again, and Taehyung moved to lay back down to start watching the movie again but stopped when she spoke. “I’m on birth control, if that helps.”

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Wait, your mom, the queen of conservativeness, let you-“

“It’s for period control, like cramps and stuff.” Kortni shrugged. “And you could, you know, pull out too if you needed to, right?”

Taehyung knew he probably should have said no and stopped things there, but he found himself unable to keep from leaning back in and molding his lips to hers. They didn’t progress past kissing for a few minutes, as Taehyung didn’t want to rush through things. When he finally decided to deepen the kiss by slipping his tongue between Kortni’s parted lips, he gently pushed her to lay back onto the pillows and climbed over her. They continued to take their time, slowly removing articles of clothing piece by piece until they were finally down to just their underwear.

Taehyung fingered at the clasp of her bra without making any moves to take it off. “Are you absolutely sure?” He waited until she responded with a ‘yes’ before unhooking the clasp and removing the undergarment from her body. Before she even had the chance to cover her breasts out of shyness, he leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to the top of her chest, beginning a trail down her body to the hem of her panties.

It was when he reached the top of the fabric and had started to tug them down that Kortni spoke up again. “You’re not going to do anything down there, right? Like, no oral?” Taehyung paused in his movements and looked up at her. “The thought of it just kind of weirds me out.”

“Not if you don’t want me to.” Taehyung assured her before slowly tugging her panties down her legs. “But it’ll probably hurt more if I don’t.”

“That’s okay~” Kortni said as Taehyung pulled his own underwear off. “I trust you.”

He leaned down and kissed her once more, taking hold of his member to guide it towards her entrance before parting from her lips. “If we go on from here, we can’t go back, so are you 100% sure?”

Kortni reached up and encased his face in her hands. “Yes, I am absolutely, positively, 100% sure.”

Taehyung allowed her to pull his face down until their lips met, using it as a distraction as he pushed the tip in. He stopped once he felt her tense up and whimper against his mouth and pulled back from the kiss. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, taking hold of her hand and intertwining their fingers as he looked at the pained expression on her face. “Just tell me if you want to stop.” She shook her head and squeezed his hand. “Am I okay to move?” She nodded, and he pushed deeper, stopping again after a few seconds to allow her to adjust. He continued this until he was fully inside her, letting out a quiet groan at the feeling. “You still good?” He asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead afterward.

“Y-yeah, just wait a little bit~” She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close until there was absolutely no space between their bodies, burying her face in his shoulder. With the new position, Taehyung nuzzled his face against her neck, leaving gentle kisses everywhere he could reach in hopes of providing comfort to her.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually her grip on him loosened. “Okay, you can move now.”

Taehyung pulled away from her neck and propped himself on his forearms, leaning in for their lips to meet yet again as he began to rock his hips against hers, only making shallow thrusts so as not to push her limits. Everything was blocked out of Taehyung’s mind except for the feeling of his lips on hers and their bodies moving together. Even the pain from her fingernails digging into his back was nonexistent as they connected in a way that before that moment, Taehyung never would have imagined to be possible.

He woke up the next morning to Kortni’s curls tickling his nose and his phone vibrating loudly. He opened his eyes and immediately realized that Kortni was curled up against him, her head resting on his chest. Once his phone began to vibrate again, he slowly moved out from under her without disturbing her slumber. When he was free, he sat up and leaned forward to grab his jeans, pulling his phone out of his pocket and immediately answering it once he saw who was calling. “Hey, Dad-“

“Don’t ‘hey dad’ me!” Jin cried into the phone. “Taehyung Kim, you better have a good reason for staying out all night and ignoring my calls and texts!”

“I’m really sorry, Dad! Kortni and I fell asleep while watching movies last night and I just now woke up. Trust me, I was not intentionally ignoring you.” Taehyung whispered, still trying to not wake Kortni up.

He heard his dad breathe a sigh of relief. “As long as you’re okay…just come home soon, alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be home in a few minutes.” Taehyung hung up the phone and got up, gathering his clothes to redress himself. Once he was situated, he walked over to Kortni’s desk, softly smiling when he saw the card he made for her propped up by her picture frames and tore a piece of paper out of one of her notebooks, grabbing a pen and writing a note for her so she wouldn’t be upset when she woke up and saw he was gone. After the note was finished, he kneeled next to Kortni on the floor, pressing his lips to her forehead before leaving, making sure to grab the plastic cup he had ended up finishing in the night before to throw in the trash outside to limit the risk of Kortni’s mom seeing it and finding out her daughter wasn’t as pure as she thought. As he closed the door to her room, he failed to notice that the slight wind created from the action cause the note to move slightly, just enough to fall off the edge and become lost between the furniture and the wall.

That next Monday, he sat at their usual lunch table, waiting for her to arrive, but she never did. He convinced himself that she was busy meeting with a teacher or talking to her teammates as he gathered his trash to throw away. That was proven untrue by the end of the day. He perked up in his seat as he saw Kortni enter their French class, only for it to feel like he had been punched in the stomach when she chose to sit across the room from him rather than in her normal seat in front of him. He could feel Jimin’s eyes on him, silently asking what was wrong, but all Taehyung could focus on was how what he thought was the start of a relationship between them was actually the end of their friendship.

Next Part

#bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #beyond the scene #bts fanfic #bts series #bts drabbles #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan series #bangtan drabbles #bangtan scenarios #bangtan reactions #bangtan smut #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #kim namjoon #namjoon #bts rm #bangtan rm

[silverfootstepswrites]

title Altitude summary I choose not to plummet pairing itasaku, tobisaku, hot messes rating .........gau mehng ah

Part i | Part ii | Part iii | Part iv | Part v | Part vi | Part vii | Part viii | Part ix | Part x | Part xi | Part xii | Part xiii | Part xiv | Part xv | Part xvi | Part xvii | Part xviii | Part xix | Part xx | Part xxi | Part xxii | Part xxiii | Part xxiv | Part xxv | Part xxvi | Part xxvii | Part xxviii | Part xxix | Part xxx | Part xxxi | Part xxxii | Part xxxiii | Part xxxiv (here) | Part xxxv | Part xxxvi | Part xxxvii| Part xxxviii | Part xxxix | Part XL (it ends here)

Sai pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Snapping them over his wrists. He sized up Madara’s still body, glanced back at Sakura. 

“Would you be mad if I dismantled this here, Boss?” he asked.

“Yes,” Tenten immediately responded. She reached for the chilled bottle of champagne. Took a gulp directly from it. Licked the light fizz from her upper lip. Sai shrugged.

“Well, then I can’t do anything with this until we close the club,” he declared. 

“You should go. We have a long night ahead of us,” Sakura remarked to Itachi. And when Itachi lifted his chin toward her, she pressed her pointer finger to his lips. Stopping him.

“Ah-ah. Still poisonous. Next time, leng zai,” she promised against his ear. She slipped out of his lap, crossing the room. And when she pushed her fist against what looked like a panel on the wall, it opened up to reveal a small bathroom. She hit the faucet. Water streamed into the sink. She began scrubbing her fingers clean with plenty of soap. 

Heaving a sigh, Itachi got to his feet. He reached into his jacket for his phone. 

“Looks like I have a busy night too,” he muttered, calling Kisame.

Despite Itachi’s protests, Sakura insisted on being very honest about how Uchiha Madara had died. Word spread quickly. Because while no one could claim Madara as a friend, it was certainly concerning that a triad had killed a yakuza. And a high-ranking one at that. There were meetings amongst the biggest groups. Several fists smashing tables. 

“Come on, Boss. Especially after what happened? This is our chance to take out that bitch. Once and for all,” one of the Inuzuka-kai’s newer recruits said. Hands fisted at his sides. 

Kiba’s left hand twitched. Dead center was a pink circle of scar tissue. The skin shiny and raised. The muscles still didn’t move the way they were supposed to. And the doctors warned that they might never. 

But still, Inuzuka Kiba was quiet as he stared out the window. His right hand rested on his cheek. The scar matching the one on his left.

“If she were that easy to get rid of, I would have done it a long time ago,” Kiba finally said.

Ultimately, when the fifth head of the Uchiha-gumi remained silent on the matter, there wasn’t much anyone else could do. 

Sai hosed down the floor of the empty warehouse. Whistling a tune from an old Hong Kong opera as the red water swirled down the drain. 

“Hey Boss?” he suddenly said, turning. 

“Hm?” she replied. She bit through a piece of hard candy. Scattering the gold pieces across her tongue. Sai held his mouth open. Sighing, she unwrapped another piece and tossed it underhand to him. He caught it between his teeth, smirking as he drew it into his mouth.

“What do you want?” she prompted, cheek in her hand. Glaring down at him from the scaffolding. 

“What would you have done? If the Kumicho had said no? Made you let Madara go?” Sai inquired. Tucked the candy into his cheek. He turned the knob. It squeaked as it cut off the flow to the hose. Water dribbling in spurts before it went quiet. And then he looked back at her, one hand on his hip. 

Sakura stared at him. For a moment, her face was blank. And then she turned away.

“He wouldn’t have,” she simply said. A plastic bag rustled. When she turned back to him, she had a cigarette pinched between two fingers. 

“But if he did?” Sai insisted.

Sakura dug in her pocket for her lighter. Rolled it over in her palm. Feeling the cool weight of the metal. Lifting the cigarette to her lips, she lit it. The taste of ash spreading across her tongue. 

“I’d still do whatever the hell I want,” she answered. 

The new year was busy in Tokyo. Shrines were crowded with visitors huddled together for warmth. The streets were oddly dark. Storefronts black and empty as people closed up for the short holiday at the beginning of January.

Itachi spent New Year’s eve in front of the television, Sasuke’s head in his lap. Every year, the little boy fought to stay awake until midnight. And every year, he lost the battle. Itachi’s patted Sasuke’s head. The TV flashing with bright lights and filling the room with pre-recorded laughter. Behind him, he could hear Kisame and Sasori playing cards under the kotatsu. 

Sasuke stirred a little. Itachi glanced down at his pale face. Listening to the distant clinks as his mother prepared tea. And for a moment, he couldn’t help but wonder what Sakura was doing on a night like this..

“Is that why you’ve been making that face all night, Godaime?” Sasori chuckled when Itachi finally asked. He grabbed his phone, made some calls and typed out a couple texts.

A few minutes later, the table vibrated. Sasori’s screen lighting up. His lower lip jutted out.

“Huh. That’s odd,” he remarked. 

“What is?” Kisame asked. He leaned over to pluck another card from the deck. Shuffled them around in his massive hands. 

“Boys say they spotted her getting into a limo near Asakusa a few hours ago. Haven’t seen her since,” Sasori read. Kisame made a face too.

“Low profile isn’t exactly her thing. That’s weird,” he declared.  

“I mean... if I killed an oyabun- and a famous one at that- I’d keep my head down too,” Sasori pointed out. And he flicked a card down onto the table. Kisame grimaced. 

Itachi placed his palm over Sasuke’s ear. 

“You two,” he growled. 

Kisame raised both his hands.

“Sorry. Forgot waka was here. We’ll stop,” he apologized. Sasori rested his chin on the back of his hand, staring at Sasuke snoozing away. His gaze flickered up to Itachi.

“Your father never hid what he was. Waka is going to have to learn too, someday,” Sasori pointed out. He rubbed his chin. The scorpion tattooed on his wrist peeked out from under his sleeve as he moved. Itachi patted Sasuke’s head. Feeling how fine his hair was. And Sasuke’s little fist curled over his thigh. 

“Not today, though,” answered Itachi.

Gathering Sasuke into his arms, Itachi went to put his baby brother to bed. Tucking him under the covers. Patting his back for a long time. Until he was sure that Sasuke wouldn’t have any bad dreams that night. 

The following night, there was still no word about Sakura. And then the next. And the next.

Two weeks passed without a single word from her. Without her being spotted anywhere, really. 

“Maybe she’s in Hong Kong. Isn’t she always going back and forth?” Kisame suggested, puffing on his cigar. Sasori shook a die around in his cupped fist. He tossed it onto the desk. Smoke filled the room and Sasori swatted in front of his face, scowling. Snatched it up again.

“Would’ve spotted her at the airport. There’s just... nothing,” Sasori countered. His phone buzzed and he was distracted as he read the message.

Itachi tapped his knuckle against the desk. His black eyes hard as he half-listened to their conversation. He let out a sharp sigh. Something he was doing more and more these days.

“Have you called her, Aniki? Don’t you say she always picks up for you?” suggested Kisame. 

“It goes straight to voicemail,” Itachi retorted. Voice tight. Kisame’s eyes narrowed.

“You sound worried,” he commented. Teeth closing around the end of the cigar as he grinned. 

“Maybe she wants you to chase her,” Sasori commented. Both men turned to look at him. He was examining his nails, curling his fingers into his palm. And when he looked at them, he held up his phone. 

“Deidara says that he hasn’t seen Haruno-san. But he says that he met up with her number two in Tsukiji a couple hours ago,” he explained. 

“Deidara is one of hers. Why the hell would he tell you that?” Kisame wondered. 

Itachi’s eyes locked with Sasori’s, who shook his phone again. 

“Like I said. Maybe she wants you to chase her,” he said again.

“Boss is busy,” Tenten said without looking up at him half an hour later. She lowered her cigarette. Squinting against the cold as she exhaled. The wind stole the smoke from her lips. 

They stood outside Tsukiji Fish Market. The stalls out front were bustling with residents and tourists alike. It was just as busy inside. Leaning against the side of the building towards the back, Tenten had flagged him down. The people walking past were burdened with boxes of fresh seafood on ice. Their breath huffing out in the cold. They were much too busy to pay attention to the two people standing there. 

Itachi put his hands in his pockets. 

“I can’t help but feel like she’s making fun of me now,” he muttered, mostly to himself. 

“Why’s that?” Tenten asked. Her gaze drifted around. She exhaled again in a long stream. Itachi studied her expression for a long time. She had always made it more than clear that she didn’t particularly want to talk to him. At least, not more than necessary. 

Still, he knew that probably no one knew Sakura better than her trusted her number two. At least, no one still living. So he took the bait.

“I get that she doesn’t trust me. That’s not exactly conducive to our line of work. But sending me on a wild goose chase is a bit juvenile,” he ground out. Scrutinizing Tenten’s expression for any clue. Just something he could glean.

Tenten shot him a look. “You’re not too bright, are you, Kumicho?” she remarked. Laughing a little. Her nose was turning red from the cold. She lifted her hand to rub at it a little.

Itachi lifted his head, eyes narrowing.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questioned. But Tenten had seen and dealt with much worse. She wasn’t intimidated by his stare. 

“Boss mentioned to me that you liked the view from her penthouse? What’d you see?”  she queried. Somewhat abruptly. That made Itachi pause. 

“...Victoria Peak? Trees? Why do you ask?”

Tenten exhaled through her nostrils. She scuffed at the ground with the side of her foot. 

“I’ve known Boss for almost 15 years now. And I don’t even fucking know where that penthouse is. I don’t know what road it’s on. What color the building is,” Tenten explained. And it sounded like she was almost laughing at herself. 

“I’ve got access to all her car keys and even some of her bank accounts. But that penthouse... I don’t think anyone else has been in there besides her. Except for you.” Her eyes were unfocused. Staring off at something far off. 

“If I have to explain it any more to you, then you’re stupider than I thought,” she added, almost laughing again. She lowered her cigarette, tapping the ash onto the asphalt.

Itachi watched two men drive a cart past. The back stacked with styrofoam boxes, probably filled with live sea creatures. They turned the corner, heading into the market.

Tenten rubbed her mouth with her sleeve. 

“I don’t know what your intentions are, Kumicho. Frankly, you’re even harder to read than her,” she said, arms folded across her chest. And then her gaze flickered to him. Focusing. Sharpening. Like the iris of an old-fashioned camera adjusting to the light.

“But I also don’t know what she’s planning with you. And that’s a lot scarier, in my opinion,” Tenten added.

Dropping her cigarette, she ground it out under the heel of her boot. 

“You don’t trust your own boss?” Itachi asked. She arched an eyebrow at him.

“I’m different. I know what she’s planning with me. But let me tell you something good, Kumicho. Since I don’t hate you,” Tenten said. She held up two fingers. “Boss is really only loyal to two things in this world: money and power.” She counted off on those fingers as she spoke. And then she pointed at him.

“Maybe since you have both, she’ll be loyal to you too. For a while, at least.”

She pulled a slip of paper from inside her jacket. And any warmth it might have retained from her body was whisked away by the wind. Itachi pinched his fingers around it. On it was a phone number with an extension scrawled on the end. 

He looked back at her.

“Do you resent her?” he questioned. 

For the first time, he saw something like surprise spread across her face. Eyes widening. Before that gaze sharpened again. Like she was calculating something. 

“She’s my best friend. You don’t become that close to something without coming to hate them just a little,” she replied. Smile flickering briefly before the icy wind seemed to steal that away too.

And with that, Tenten pushed off the wall to disappear back inside. 

Itachi lay awake that night. Eyes wide open like a madman. Hands clenching at the comforter. He called the number at almost three in the morning. She didn’t sound tired at all. 

“Wei?” 

He thought he heard jazz music in the background. 

“Did I interrupt something?” he inquired. 

“No. Just drinking wine. Trying to fall asleep before the damn sun comes up,” she sighed. 

“Having trouble sleeping?” 

“Don’t you?” asked Sakura in return. 

He sat up. Turning his head to look out the window. The sky was pitch black.

It was strange. How the conversation flowed like water down a stream. No hitches. No awkward pauses.  

“Where are you right now?”

The clink of glass hitting a surface. She sighed. “The Archipelago.” 

“Why are you at a hotel?” questioned Itachi. 

“Just in case someone comes looking for me in my sleep. I’m not exactly popular in Tokyo at the moment,” she replied. 

It was different for him. He had the Uchiha-gumi compound. Guarded 24/7. Highly secure. For someone like Sakura who operated independently, he knew that she would have several safehouses. The one in Shiba was definitely just one of the many places she owned. Probably bought under shell corporations and untraceable aliases.

A luxury hotel like the Archipelago was much safer. With security cameras and staff on duty, someone was less likely to try to attack her. 

“Why? Do you want to come join me?” she asked. And before he could respond, she added, “Ask for Takeko Nakano at the front desk.” The call disconnected with a click. 

Itachi sat. Staring numbly in the darkness. His phone still held up to his ear. Rubbing his hand through his hair, he sighed.

“What the hell am I doing?” he asked himself as he got to his feet.

The security staff didn’t let him into the lobby until they called up to the room first. 

“Takeko-san? You have a visitor,” the burly guard said into the receiver. He listened, mouth set in a tight line. Nodding every once in a while.

“I understand. Have a good night, ma’am,” he uttered before he hung up. His eyes skimmed over Itachi in his sunglasses and black leather gloves. 

“Floor 22. Suite 3,” the guard told him with obvious reluctance. And Itachi almost scoffed. If only he knew that the supposed Miss Takeko was just as dangerous as he was. If not more.

The gold muzzle of Sakura’s pistol answered him through the crack in the door. Her eye staring out above it. The door snapped shut. He heard the chain and the locks disengaging. It swung open again.

Itachi stepped inside the suite. The private suites in the Archipelago were rumored to be one of the most beautiful places to stay in Tokyo. And as he stared around the place, he could see that the rumors weren’t founded on untruths. 

The foyer opened up into a dining room. Floor to ceiling windows showed off a view of Tokyo’s skyline. There were so many doors leading to so many places that it was almost hard to believe that this was a hotel room. When he peeked into one of the doorways, he found a kitchen. Another was a coat room. To the right of the dining room was a living room.

Stepping out of his shoes, he unwound the scarf from around his neck. The babble of a television played from somewhere deeper in the suite. It suddenly cut off. 

Sakura padded out of the door to the left of the dining room. Her gold Desert Eagle still held in her right hand. A glass of wine in her left. 

“That took you longer than I expected,” she remarked. 

“To drive here?” Itachi questioned in return. 

Her lips smiled. “Sure.”

His eyes drifted down. She was wearing just a dark blue sleepshirt. Her left forearm was wrapped in bandages. Blood seeping pink through the white gauze just below the jut of the bones in her wrist. Like flower petals drifting on the surface of snow. 

“What the hell is that?” Itachi demanded. His voice cutting. 

And Sakura looked down, like she hadn’t even realized she was bleeding.

“Oh. It’s fine. I took care of it,” she assured him. She set the wine glass down on the table. Placed her gun right next to it. Itachi closed the gap between them in long strides. He grabbed her hand.

“This isn’t fine. You’re still bleeding,” he ground out. 

“That hurts, Kumicho,” she told him in that same, calm voice. Her eyes made of steel as she stared up at him. Slowly, he released her. And she flexed her fingers.

“See? Didn’t even cut the tendons. I’m fine,” Sakura assured him, her smile returning. Taking the wine glass again, she slipped back through the door she had come from. 

Itachi took a deep breath. He rested his hand on the back of a chair, trying to gather his thoughts. Shedding his coat, he draped it over the chair and followed her.

This half of the suite led into a massive bedroom. The floor and walls were covered in gleaming wood. There were more windows that offered a view of the city twinkling lovely and bright below. A small suitcase sat open by the bathroom door. The TV in front of the bed was on, but muted. A laptop sat open on the desk, stock prices flashing across the screen. It refreshed automatically every once in a while. 

He stood in the entrance of the bathroom. Arm leaning against the doorjamb. Watching Sakura as she washed her hands. Lengths of unraveled bandages sat on the counter beside her. A pair of scissors. A few drops of blood dotted the white marble. Almost black.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

She looked up in the mirror. Their reflections looked at each other before she lowered her head again. 

“It doesn’t concern you. So no,” she answered, turning to dry her hands.

“I thought you might say that,” he sighed. He folded his arms across his chest, closing his eyes. They slid back open when he felt her lips press to his. Before he could move reach for her, she pulled away.

The wine glass was back in her hand. She took a sip. It stained her lower lip purple before she licked it clean. And then she took his hand. Guiding him into the bedroom. 

“You haven’t been answering your phone,” Itachi said as he followed her. She released him, using her newly-freed hand to point to the desk. Itachi took a few steps toward the laptop. To left of it were scraps of plastic, broken glass. Tangled components of chips and tiny batteries. Beside it was a flat metal disk with two wires attached. 

“Found it attached to my phone, inside the case. Smashed the whole thing just in case,” Sakura explained, voice flat. 

“Is that a bug?”

“Yeah. Pretty good quality. Like the kind police use back in Hong Kong,” she replied. And she sat on the edge of the desk. Draining the rest of the wine from the glass. Her lipstick marking the edge in a perfect replica of her mouth. Itachi pinched the bug between his fingers, scrutinizing it. 

“Who could’ve planted it?” he wondered.

Sakura let out a long sigh. Bare legs crossing together.

“Madara. Asshole was always planting shit on me. Could have been some of my guys. They would’ve had some opportunities to slip it in,” she listed. And then her hand curled around the back of his neck. Her eyes suddenly sharp. “It could have also been you, Kumicho.” 

Itachi set the bug back down on the desk. He placed his hand on her knee, fingers sliding up her thigh. 

“Do you really think so?” he whispered. 

The steeliness left her gaze. She smiled. The expression natural, almost soft. Her hand turning gentle too. Stroking the back of his neck, tracing down the path of his spine.

“No. I just wanted to see that look on your face,” she replied. 

Itachi’s hand slipped higher. Stilled when he discovered that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. As if reading his thoughts, she scoffed.

“That wasn’t for you. It’s because I was feeling lazy today,” she told him. A smile curled Itachi’s mouth as he kissed her.

“Sure,” he said.

Her thighs tightened around his wrist as his fingers found her favorite spots. Her fingers linking together behind his neck, sighs playing softly into his ear. But after a few strokes, his hand went still again.

“You’re... really wet,” he murmured, more surprised than anything. She squirmed against him, sounding frustrated.

“I told you. You took longer than I expected,” she whispered in return.

He sighed. The sound shaky, turning into a chuckle at the end. His fingers slipped free of her so that he could wrap his arms around her. Itachi lifted her up to move them to the bed. But before he could lower her, something gleamed in Sakura’s eyes. She twisted, knees gripping his waist. The ceiling spun. Back hitting the mattress. When he blinked, Sakura’s face appeared above him. Smug.

 “I said ‘next time’, leng zai. It’s next time,” she told him.

Itachi stared at the wood panels in the ceiling. The round lights embedded in the corners glowing almost yellow. Staring down at him as her teeth grasped the tab of his zipper. 

“Unless... you don’t like it?” her voice drifted up to him. 

All the air in his lungs rushed out in a wheeze. Toes flexing, arch of his foot nearly cramping as her mouth closed around him. He lifted his head to find her smirking up at him. Eyes twinkling even brighter than the skyline behind her. He chuckled a little, letting his head fall back. Arm covering his face.

“No. No complaints at all,” he assured her.

Part i | Part ii | Part iii | Part iv | Part v | Part vi | Part vii | Part viii | Part ix | Part x | Part xi | Part xii | Part xiii | Part xiv | Part xv | Part xvi | Part xvii | Part xviii | Part xix | Part xx | Part xxi | Part xxii | Part xxiii | Part xxiv | Part xxv | Part xxvi | Part xxvii | Part xxviii | Part xxix | Part xxx | Part xxxi | Part xxxii | Part xxxiii | Part xxxiv (here) |  Part xxxv | Part xxxvi | Part xxxvii| Part xxxviii | Part xxxix | Part XL (it ends here)

#eastern suns #writing #itasaku #triad!sakura x yakuza!itachi #tobisaku #sorry y'all #but also not sorry #idk why this chapter got so long #too lazy to cut it so... #triad!au

[rhapsodic-memories]

december 31st, 2015, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time. you were talking to a girl and i could tell that you were capturing her with every syllable that left your mouth. and i knew why: you were beautiful and bright, and i was drawn to you even then, like the planets are drawn to the sun. december 31st, 2015, 11:58 pm: we met standing in line for the bathroom. you introduced yourself, and asked for my name, smiling when i gave it. “lovely,” you murmured, and repeated it a few more times, rolling the letters around in your mouth like a new food. january 1st, 2016, 12:05 am: i could still feel you on me, your lips, minutes, hours, months later. the clock had struck midnight and you just grabbed me, didn’t ask if it was okay until it was over. you were laughing, brushing it off, all teeth and well-kissed lips, but i knew i saw you blushing. january 21st, 2016, 1:12 pm: you got my number through the mutual friend that threw the party. i still don’t know how you got my address. i didn’t remember telling you. you couldn’t tell me, either. february 14th, 2016, 9:12 pm: you took me out to dinner and bought me chocolate and roses. it was all so cliche, and i loved every second of it. when you kissed me good night, i swore i could feel the rest of my life, pressed right up against my lips. february 26th, 2016, 11:33 pm: we made it official. i remember how you asked me, how shy you got, like you didn’t know what the answer would be. march 17th, 2016, 5:43 pm: we spent the day at the saint patrick’s day parade, and you filled yourself with beer and kissed me hard against the bar bathroom door. i drove you home and that was the first time you told me you loved me. march 18th, 2016, 9:24 am: you called me and told me you loved me again. “i want to make sure that you know i still mean it when i’m sober,” you said. march 24th, 2016, 1:09 pm: i met your parents at easter brunch. you had demanded i come with you, and i was glad i did. your mother was kind and beautiful, and your father was warm and handsome, just like i knew they’d be. after we’d eaten, your mother got me alone. “he’s never brought a girl home before,” she told me, “normally he isn’t very open about who he’s dating. but you, you’re different. don’t read into this, but i think he may really think you’re special.” april 12th, 2016, 8:31 pm: you saw me naked for the first time, and you kissed every inch of my skin. i’d never felt that much love from anybody before that night, and i haven’t since. not even you could replicate those few hours. may 5th, 2016, 4:57 pm: we fought for the first time. i ran into my ex at the grocery store and wanted to chat for a few minutes. you didn’t. when we got in the car, you told me that if i was still in love with somebody else i could just leave, and i told you that you should trust me and not be so insecure about our relationship. we screamed the whole way home and you slammed the car door when i dropped you off. i almost crashed three times on the drive home. may 6th, 2016, 8:03 am: you came by with flowers and breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you told me, “you just mean so much to me, and the thought of you ever being anyone else’s makes me sick.” i smiled, “but you don’t have to worry about that now. i’m yours.” june 16th, 2016, 10:51 pm: for my birthday you took me out to dinner and gave me a beautiful necklace with a silver chain and pearl pendant. we drank expensive wine and stumbled back to my place and fucked. i had never been fucked before, not like this. i woke up the next morning with bite marks on my neck and hickeys all the way down my stomach, but you were gone. “had to run,” you’d written on a post it note, “i love you.” june 18th, 2016, 2: 41 pm: i hadn’t seen you since my birthday and you weren’t picking up when i’d call. june 19th, 2016, 3:13 am: “ had to run,” the post it note had said. maybe you were running from me. i couldn’t tell if it was the 3 am darkness talking or the part of me that already knew. july 1st, 2016, 4:01 am: i looked over at you, sleeping in the darkness beside me. when we were together, things felt perfectly normal. but now, i could feel the shifts. “are we falling apart?” i whispered to you, and although i hadn’t expected an answer, the silence broke my heart all the same. july 4th, 2016, 6:47 pm: we were at a barbecue and i saw you across the crowd, talking to a girl. i saw the way she was drinking up every word that escaped from between your lips, and that’s when i knew. that’s when i knew you weren’t mine anymore. july 21st, 2016, 7:08 pm: i brought it up to you. “i think we’re starting to grow apart,” i said, “there’s a distance between us that wasn’t here before.” you reassured me that it was all in my head, but i didn’t hear it in your voice. i didn’t see it in your eyes. you knew it was there, too, but unlike me, you weren’t trying to do anything to stop it. august 10th, 2016, 11:37 pm: i lay awake and thought about what your mother said, all these months later. “don’t read into this.” but of course i did. i couldn’t help myself. fuck, i loved you so much. august 15th, 2016, 1:12 pm: you invited me over and i discovered that the key you’d given me no longer worked. “i had the locks changed,” you said, “i’ll get you a new one.” it was a lie, and i knew it. you didn’t get me a new key. september 8th, 2016, 2:00 pm: i caught you cheating. in a desperate attempt to revive the romance we’d had at the beginning of our relationship, i bought dinner and brought it to your place. when you finally opened the door, i saw it written all over your face; the way your eyes widened, the way your jaw dropped, the way your cheeks drained of color. i heard it in the stammer of your voice, the sharp intake of your breath, the grinding of your teeth. when the girl walked up behind you, half naked, asking who it was at the door, i already knew. “how could you?” i whispered, and you just opened and closed your mouth. the girl pieced it together and started screaming. she hadn’t known. i left the food at the doorstep. september 10th, 2016, 1:49 am: you never called after that, never came by, never reached out, but it wasn’t like we’d needed to confirm anything. i knew it was over, but it took every ounce of willpower i had not to go back to your place and find out why, why everything. september 27th, 2016, 6:20 pm: i kept finding myself huddled in a ball; in my bedroom, in my kitchen, in my shower. not crying, or yelling. just huddled, clutching my body close to myself, staring. still not understanding. october 31st 2016, 9:01 pm: i spent halloween haunted by the ghost of you. your face was around every corner. i could still feel your touch trickling down my spine. that night, i lost it. the anger surged through the sadness and bubbled to the surface. i screamed until my throat was raw, screamed at nothing, about nothing, for no reason other than i was too full. november 10th, 2016, 2:17 am: you called me when you were drunk and i answered. i listened to you ramble, vomiting up apology after apology. near the end, you told me you loved me. “call me tomorrow when you’re sober if you still love me,” i said.  you didn’t. november 25th, 2016, 7:15 pm: i went out on a date with somebody new. they didn’t pull me in like you did, but for a few hours, i forgot about you and i felt okay. i drank myself to sleep that night so i wouldn’t have to think about you. the next morning, the hangover hurt more than you did. it was a start. december 24th, 2016, 8:12 pm: i was spending christmas with my family, and i was doing great until my aunt asked about you. i told her you cheated, but i was doing okay, and then i excused myself and threw up the appetizers into the toilet. i called you then, and when you picked up, i let out a sob. “you ruined me, you fuck,” i croaked, “and you can’t even apologize. not when you’re sober, at least.” there were a few seconds of silence, and then you hung up. i still hope that it ruined your christmas. december 31st, 2016, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time in months across the crowd. it made me sick to know that even after all that had happened, you were still the most beautiful person in the room to me. december 31st, 2016, 11:55 pm: you found me in the kitchen. “i wanted to tell you i’m sorry,” you yelled over the music, “and i miss you.” and in those final moments of the year, i thought about it. i thought about letting you back in. the countdown started, and you moved closer to me. and i.. i pushed you away. i turned away from you and said, “no. i can’t.” and i walked out of the room. january 1st, 2017, 12:05 am: i have forgotten how you felt against me, your lips. and for the first time, i am finally okay with that.

Unknown (via @rhapsodic-memories)

#love #love quotes #i love you #i love him #i love her #long reads #hope #inspiration #you broke my heart #leave me alone #quotes #quoteoftheday #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #lyrics #writing #excerpt from a book i'll never write #writers #wordsnquotes #heart #heartbreak #heartache #support #inspiring love quotes #inspiring quotes

[stone-man-warrior]

January 15, 2021: 12:37 pm:

====================================================

I am not able to access the text writing window box.

There is someone on the other side of the computer screen, live, working against me as I access Tumblr.

These screens are placed on top of the place where the access to the text writing box is at.

In order to obtain the text box I am using now, I literally had to be faster on the draw to access the text box quicker than the terror bastard on the other side of the screen could cover it with the layer of a offensive post from some other asshole. That is there to remind me, to scare me, with blatant message about the listening device that the terror bastards put under my house last couple of years ago. When I open the door, they hear the squeek, and the sound of my feet on the front porch. The terror bastard on the other side of the screen is connected to Chartrands at Three-Seven-Six Jackpine Drive, and to the Monroe terror cell at Four-Three-Four Jackpine Drive.

The bastards are going to loose their heads before the day is done.

When I go to access the Text box, for the past three to five weeks, some asshole covers the controls with these kind of blog windows. Under that, is the controls to access the Text box:

O O O O O O O O O O O O O O o o o o o o o o o . . . . . . ...

That is the progression of the result of repeated exposure to the poisons I have been attacked with by the neighboring terror cells.

There is swelling on my foot is substantial, is a lot more noticeable in person than on a photo. I can‘t show you the internal, intense burning sensation, and the burning has spread to my right arm now.

That rash started as a black pimple five years ago, had almost gone away for awhile about three years ago, then returned to the state it is shown, it gets worse and worse. Is on my left ankle now too, in a small state of itchy rash that bleeds easily. That rash shown is on the right ankle/shin, bleeds if I barely scratch at it, and if I scratch once, I feel like I must keep scratching until my leg is all bloody, scratched through the skin. I am unable to find anything that provides relief, there are no doctors to see, that is why they are poisoning me, so that I will go to the hospital to be killed there, in a controlled kill zone.

The poisons are delivered by airplane, by terror soldier at the window putting gas through the cracks and down the chimney with a long wand made of foldable fiberglass tent stakes. The poisons are also delivered in the food. There are no limits to the ways the terror army will expose people to poisons.

The rash started at the same time the Monroe terror cell moved in next door at Four-Three-Four (434) Jackpine.

It hurts. Terror soldiers are within 500 feet of where I am right now, watching my door for me to go out for a walk, listening with various listening devises, so they can shoot with cross-bow, or apply more poisons.

They want this Tumblr account deleted.

They want my property.

They want my ID.

They want my medical records.

They want my vote after the kill, and when they assume my ID.

All of the US Congress was elected that way, with votes cast by murdered citizens ID’s and voting status, by a terror replacement soldier impostor.

======================================================

5:36 pm:

I went to the store today.

It was stressful.

I encountered an offensive maneuver from Monroe terror cell as I left in my car, and took this series of photos. They don‘t show the young man chasing after me as I stepped away from my gate, unfortunately.

I had to pass by the Monroe Offensive Brush Clearing that was started just as I stepped out my door to leave.

This young man here thinks he is tougher that he really is.

This is a Google Terror Cell Member stationed at Monroe terror cell for a number of weeks. He is protected by Caveman Heating and Air Conditioning Service Van, three Asplunde Tree Service trucks w/crews, and a whole bunch of other terror soldiers. He is bait. They aggravate and poison me so that I will retaliate, making me the bad guy, He can run much faster than me, I am old disabled guy.

They use the fire to fool the federal fools who believe he, or Sandy Monroe is the author of this account. Fire ignites the nitrous weapon, they do role reversal there with use of the fire.

The one in maroon is Sandy Monroe, she is about 60 years old, would not show her face. She is the third Sandy Monroe that has been at the address at 434 Jackpine. They get killed in defense, and SAG sends a look-a-like terror soldier replacement. That one has been there about one year, a little more maybe.

Here you see the telescope they have pointed at me.

They are hamming it up.

There are at least fifty other terror soldiers I have yet to encounter on my way to the store. Their goal seems to be to frighten me, by following me, and always being where I need to be, all of the time, for the past ten years.

My phone camera really sucks, but that is a photo of what remains of a piece of branch that I put along the fence to help discourage the Monroe terror cell from hopping over the fence right there, That is a favorite place they use for hoping the fence, and is the place where they shoot at me with the cross-bow most often.

Those small pieces of wood on the saw horse are on my side of the fence and until this morning were a bigger branch. The bastards hopped the fence, cut the barrier up, and put the remains of it on my saw horse, which serves as another barrier at the gate, to keep people from wandering into my yard.

This is one of many camera’s the Monroe’s use to menace me. The thing is at the fence line, and is pointing only at my gate and driveway area.

I am standing at my gate, taking a photo of a telescope that is pointing directly at my gate where I need to walk to get my mail. They use a lot of electronic stuff to always know where I am at, and when I come out of my front door. They put a listening device under my front porch somewhere, and know exactly when I step outside. When I left today, the Monroe’s began that offensive behavior there.

This is a typical terror watchdog that waits at the freeway onramp. There is always someone in a car there, they monitor who goes in, and out of the Hugo Oregon area. That one is special, is there for seeing me, to alert others ahead of me about my whereabouts. That guy had an accomplice on foot, who walked over to where about ten Asplunde Tree Service guys were at across the street from that spot.

That’s all for now. Maybe I’ll say more about the Dystopian Walmart adventure later on.

==============================================

6:29 pm:

The trip to Socio-Terrific Grants Pass Oregon started out as soon as I stepped outside to get into my car. There is some kind of electronic thing under the right front suspension in there somewhere making a bunch of noise as I was warming up the car, and had replaced the battery terminal under the hood, I have to disconnect the battery when I park in my front yard because the terror bastards have a remote control they can use to access the onboard computer in the car, they can and do turn the courtesy lights on at night to drain my battery, so, I have to disconnect the battery so they won‘t drain it when I park my car.

As I was going down the road, they used that remote thing to access the fuel injection, to make the car misfire, only running on four of the six cylinders the whole way to the store. They can also make the door locks go up and down as I drive, and can access some of the sounds the car makes such as the seat-belt alarm buzzer, and the Door is A Jar buzzer. They can make a whole bunch of stuff happen all at the same time, to scare me that the car is broken. Honestly, I think they do that so that I will think the car is “Possessed by the Devil”. They really do a lot of that kind of hokus pokus around here, I don‘t talk about it because I don‘t want them to think I know what they are up to with the religious hokus pokus foolery.

As I pulled into 6th Street Market, a grey Dodge Charger left the parking lot as the driver saw me pull in. It’s the same kind of Charger that Richard Chartrand is known to drive as a State Police Car, his is a real state police car, the one at the market was just a Dodge Charger, had a black spoiler on the rear trunk lid, is part of the Monroe/Google/Caveman Heating/Asplunde Tree Service offensive attack plan today.

There was a woman I recognize as someone who is associated to the Merlin Oregon Shell Gas Station in the market, was also part of the same offensive. That one is about 60 years old, looks as much like a man as a woman could possibly look, w/short grey hair, about 5″6″, was wearing black slacks, and black hospital worker style shoes.

There were three people in the market who did not have Corona Masks on. I was one of those. I forgot to put on my Corona Mask at the market today. There were many people doing “song and dance Dog & Pony Show” activity in the parking lot at the 6th Street Market, people saying their lines, doing their routine. At least one of them was a SAG Musician. I did not recognize exactly who he was, but the musicians are not difficult to spot when they come to Grants Pass on heroin murder Junket.

All I want to say about the Walmart part of the adventure is associated to Chipped Debit Cards.

When I go to the Walmart, and come home to tell you about the experience there, much of what you miss, is the tension associated with the adventure. You see, I have killed in defense over one thousand Walmart terror soldiers, most of them were killed simply because I used a lighter while they were poisoning me with nitrous oxide to weaken me, prime me for the hit/capture at the checkout. So far, I have avoided the capture and am alive to report to you, to help you survive the Walmart, so you will help me.

The Walmart terror soldiers are very upset about having lost so many of their comrades, and that is the tension that you cannot get in these reports I make.

So, when I go to the store, they do whatever they can do to aggravate me, if they cannot kill me. They play the “Holier Than Thou” role, pretend to be innocent while doing passive sort of offensive activity. One thing they do all of the time, is they have access to the information contained in the digital magic of Chip Debit Cards. They know what I buy, I buy he same things pretty much each time I go, so, the chip card knows what you buy, that way, they know what items to put some poison injected into. They also like to remove the products I want to buy, such as marshmallow cookies. I want those, but those are almost never available anymore when I get to the Walmart. Also, with the chip card magic, the choose products that I buy and make it that there is only one or two of that item left on the shelf, it’s way up high, or is way down low under the bottom of everything such that if I want to buy that, I have to crawl on the ground to reach way back there to get that one that is left at the bottom shelf way in the back. Almost everything I purchased today was way in the back, up high, or down low, was difficult to reach for when you have spinal cord injuries such as I do.

So, there is a whole bunch more that could be said, but I am going to stop there at the dangers of the chipped debit cards, and how the information is used to hurt people. With that information, a customized shopping experience is created for individuals, with take-out/murder being the goal of the customizes experience.

Like I said the other day, the technology is not necessarily life enhancing, or even provide socially redeeming qualities at all, much of the modern technology was invented and deployed for the soul purpose of advancing the Christian Pirate Ship forward, by use of the tech to kill us.

==========================================

7:25 pm:

I am concerned about that thing that seems to be inside the front suspension of my car on the right side under the alternator somewhere making weird noise. Maybe I am going to explode like Donald Trump did on the 6th of January (could have been Sam Donaldson or Lou Dobbs who exploded that day, they are the stand-in‘s in event Trump is unable to continue with the terror plans. There are not many people outside of the leading terror circles who know that part. I am one of the people who knows that part. I am pretty sure Donald Trump was injured on June 15 2020 on my front porch, lost a leg, and was ran through with a sword he brought to kill me with, then taken to Myers terror cell, and died there). If I explode the same way as the other explosions happen, that would not be a bad way to go.... that is far better than being captured by the terror cells to be tortured. I’ll just leave that thing there, see what happens later.

=================

Also, Sparacino’s (Five-Four-Five Jackpine Drive) followed me home from the store today, they were right behind me as I pulled into Jackpine by about three minutes. The Sparacino’s were driving a brand new looking Cross-Over style car, I think it was the black one. They have obtained three of those new Cross-over style cars within the past six months or so, a black one most recently, a aqua blue colored one, and a brown one. All three look like the same make and model to me, I don‘t know what the make or model is though.

At the Walmart, I am pretty sure that someone shot at me with a Cross-Bow while I was at the Banana department there. The reason I think so is that the set-up for the shot was there, in place, included “Hot Chick Distraction at the Banana Department w/forklift loaded with way too many banana boxes for the back-stop. The boxes were stacked up tall, about fifty boxes of bananas w/Hot Chick Banana Lady. She said: “Clear!”, then ducked away, as the incoming arrow bolt came, and hit the boxes... I think it hit the boxes anyway, it may have hit someone else at the Banana Department. Someone said: “Got him!”.

I moved my shopping cart over to the Orida Brand Hash Browns after that, but they did not have the ones with the onions and peppers that I like, had to settle for the regular hash brown potatoes.

==============================

7:56 pm:

The car was running very poorly on the way to the store, like I explained, on four cylinders, but the “Check Engine Light” did not happen the whole way.

On the way home, the car was running like a well oiled machine, perfectly, and that is when the “Check Engine Light” came on... it stayed on the whole way home.

============================

8:05 pm:

Other custom taylored set-up at Walmart, used for framing men at the store, so the fake sheriff can arrest them, take the victim to the terror jail, for take-out there. This happens every year, for many years:

I wear long john underwear, because it’s cold here. So, I need to get some new ones every year. When I do, I go to where the men’s underwear is at, and look all over the place for what I want. It’s not there, I keep searching... that is when the homeliest Walmart Terror Employee comes into the men’s underwear aisle with a big cart filled with underwear. I see her, and say: “Do you know your way around in this aisle?” and she says: “Yes, but you have to wait just a minute, I need to do.... blah... blah... blahhhhhahhaahahaa....”. So I keep looking for the long johns, and finally just say: “Do you know where the long john‘s are at?”. Then she says: “Yeah... they are over on the other side... you have to go to the main aisle, then against the wall... at the Dickey’s Department, against the wall, at the corner where the Dickey’s are at is where the long johns are”

Somehow, that is used to frame the men who can‘t find the long johns in the place where they are supposed to be at... instead, the thing you want is around the corner against the wall where the Dickey’s are. “

========================

8:29 pm:

I think it’s important to say the I don‘t recommend taking photos of terror soldiers and posting them online. It’s extremely dangerous to take photographs of terrorists or their houses and vehicles, they get very angry about that. So, please use caution when taking photographs that may contain strangers, there is a 100% chance that those strangers are terror soldiers when taking photos in Oregon. I am the only person left in Oregon who is not a terror soldier, so, maybe it’s 99.9999999999999... % chance. Do your own research about that.

===================

8:58 pm:

Local update:

I took a walk outside.

Strong’s terror cell “SAG House” at 3747 Russell Road is showing signs that may indicated they think I am dead. They seem to be expressing interest in my musical instruments, or want to know what kind of equipment I have, and the signaling for that is done with lights and a number of television or computer screens arranged to say a statement. I could be wrong, it’s not comm I have noticed before, but, It’s likely that the banana department Hot Chick w/bolt through the head, is one of the people on SAGClubMed heroin murder Junket, is dead, and they think I am her.

All of the signaling at Strong’s stopped on the return walk to the house. Strong’s went dark, was all lit up on the way out for the walk, then dark on the way back.

This Norton pop-up always comes on as I walk through the door after taking a short walk. It’s manually operated by someone nearby who can see me as I come into the house.

=========================

9:12 pm:

In the event the the federal fools are done being fools, the first thing you are going to need to do, is your own research. There is no one that is going to hold your hand to cross the street on this, you have to take the matter into your own hands, there is no other way.

Let this Tumblr account guide you. Be advised that I am not always correct about every last detail. I am absolutely correct about Britain in league with the Vatican is providing terror army manpower of millions of Christian terror soldiers from Canada, to take over the USA, by mass murdering all of the US Citizens. That ginormouse terror army is led by the Screen Actor Guild on TV, internet, radio, movies, advertising of all kinds, and everywhere printed, filmed, recorded entertainment and promotional information can be found. By far the most offensive source of commands is from SAG news media on Twitter, verified accounts. SAG provides the marching orders to the terror army in the field with those means and other means in coded news stories mostly. Then, SAG provides the shills on the voting ballots, and the giant terror army has been voting them into power for more than fifty years. That, I am not wrong about in any way.

So, you are going to need to put your big boy pants on, and shut twitter off. Every second counts. Shut Twitter off to save lives, preserve freedom, preserve USA.

Sooner is better.

There is a lot on this account to study, to research already, but I have additional considerations, about USPS, “The Stork” Terror Cell of the US Postal Service.

USPS has been terror controlled since the 1970′s, when “Gone Postal” was thought to have meant some asshole shot some people at the post office. Reality is that you need to play the turn-a-round, it’s a blues number, done by impostor police.

“Postal, Gone” is how that tune goes.

12 bars of it, on a vinyl record with a scratch on it, keeps going around in circles on the same route, like a postal carrier does.

So, something to consider for decoding news stories is that the US Postal Service are the people who decide what address is going to be at a particular location. They are the ones who control the house numbers and business numbers, and Government building numbers on a street.

Further decoding help is that in all the cities I know of, odd addresses are on one side of the street, even numbered addresses are all on the opposite side of the street.

The Mail Carrier delivers mail on the Odd side of the street, in car that is bassackwards drive. They are playing the turn-a-round, in a “British Blues Rock Number”.

How many different ways can you think of to say: “British Block Buster Blue’s Base”? or: “British Blues Block Buster Base”?1-16

[1-16-2021: 3:06 pm addition: (”Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba bad... bad to the bone” also goes here. It’s a “Bad Goat” or a “Black Sheep Squadron” sort of British “Gone Postal” kind of thing. Once upon a time, in Boston, there was a Tea Party.... the British are still at the Tea Party. “One Lump? Or Two? It’s an incoming Two Hump Kamel, with a Harris brand Sting Ray, but it happened 12 years ago, so, Kamel Time Warp... Horse with no name, Niel Young, eternally, at the Pope’s Alter of Transgender Transmission) Steve Vai says it’s a Bad Horsie, instrumental number (check for available BBC Performances on your own): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHubmkOe-MQ]

Those are some basic elements that will go far for doing your own research.

Pay special attention to addresses that end in “01″, such as the Social Security Administration field office in Medford does. The “01″ is symbolic in the same ways as is “12:01″ on a clock, it symbolizes the next part of the Crusade revolution as a continuance. Grants Pass Fred Meyer Department Store also ends in “01″, as does the Chapman/Brassil County Courts terror cell at 3701 Russell Road.

“01″ = Continue; Perpetuate; Perpetual Motion Machine; Train Keeps Rollin‘; etc, and so on, and so on, and so on ...

After the turn-a-round, the 12 bar blues starts again at the first bar.

“Play it again, Sam”

OK?

Shut Twitter down. Save Lives. Preserve Freedom. Preserve USA.

Otherwise, The Song Remains the Same, by Led Zeppelin.

You can let the bastards play disc two if you want, I suppose. Disc 2 is playing now on the last track: Whole Lotta Love

It’s bassackwards though, Love, is the L word... “The Ell”, the cut, the swing of the sword, the ell.

Whole Lotta Love: Decoded.

She’s USA.

{1-16-2021: it’s more complicated than you think it is. “She” for MY OWN purposes only, is both Ann Wilson, and, “♪ ♫ (The) Lady Who Knows...” If she is still alive (doubtful at best) she will be upset about the reveal of Allouette, down below (scroll down). On the other hand, the reference I made above about “She is USA”, is the one who is buying the stairway. (”Conspiracy of One” goes here: “Suicide Nation by Presidential Proclamation”. “USA: The Country the kills itself”) I’ll go ahead and make a short list... first, some time to pass, for everyone to take cover}

Think about this:

I am StoneMan.

My mother’s name was Rosetta.

If you apply what is written in this account, to get in front of your own swing of a sword, you have a Warrior on your team. In Irish/Scottish old language, a Kelly is a Warrior, so, you have a K, a sword, you play the turn-a-round your way, with this “y”, to swing the ell back where it came from, and, you have an instruction manual.

Dean ML w/Floyd Rose:

US Military Grade, Ell. The ML-1.

Reverse Y Headstock, Standard.

Features a K shaped Body, with the Ell on Irony between, “that”, and the Y Head.

Start Whackin’!

=============================

10:54 pm:

Heads Up!

https://twitter.com/i/events/1350202916989149184

NRA = Black Ra; Dark Ra; Mid Knight Ra; Black Hole Sun

They are going to the Lone Star State.

It’s a Carnival Cruise, comes with a Gulf Cart.

Feltman Products are made by “Hurts Don-it’s”.

“Don It’s” are Trump Supporters with guns at a cop shoot.

Consider that it’s not a news story, it’s Trending on Twitter, sort of. It’s “Head Line” news article, pulled up special, brought to the top, as if it’s socially redeeming that everyone should know that suddenly the nra is broke, filed bankruptcy, moving to Texas... big important life saving news from Twitter Vatican/Google HQ, direct from the helm of the Christian Pirate Ship, a Submarine called the HMS Eleanor Rigby.

Only a fool would regard that story as truth.

Don‘t be fooled anymore. Shut down Twitter.

That is a blatant terror command order to do murder. Do the math.

Wake the fuck up!

The HMS Eleanor Rigby is a Submarine Pirate Ship, a symbolic one, but none less than a pirate submarine. The thing is captained by The Jim Dunlop, who is a culmination of all of the Vatican Pope’s throughout history. The Jim Dunlop has a Whore, a Russian Mother of all Hoaxes he rides with. Together, the two find Jesus, everywhere. Lies are told as bait, Whores are presented as victims, to lure all of the Jesus’ into traps, and are captured, nailed to the mast, to propel the boat forward, and those who are captured, are used as Whores, who are presented as bait, to capture Jesus, to nail to the mast, to propel the boat forward.

It’s a “New Clear” powered U-Boat.

Nitrous Oxide is the New Clear Weapon. The mast is not what you might think it is. They are Christian Pirates, they thrive on pedophilia, so, the Jesus’ on the mast are bait, and are used for capturing more Jesus’, to power the boat with more New Clear Weapons. The Russian Whore helps to get that bait onto the mast, for capturing more Jesus’, to nail the mast, to power the boat, with New Clear Weapons.

They stow the spent Jesus’ around the hull of the ship, as body armor, and move forward, vertically to hide, then “Rise Up”, and horizontally to strike, in search of Power, Land, Slaves, and Riches.

============================================

1-16-2021: 2:26 am:

There are a couple of things that were keeping me from sleeping, so, I am writing them down before some asshole sprays me with poison gas and I forget about the important things that are keeping me awake.

First, this Google Chrome web browser page happened all by itself as I went online just now.

There was also a smaller grey colored window that says Adobe Flash is no longer supported after December 31, 2020...blah, blah, blahahhablalba...

That other window was a special pop-up, not web browser page, it was a unique window pop-up. about 5 x 7 inch size, and since it was dark grey color, it may be associated to the other thing that was keeping me awake, so, that other thing is Twitter news about Brazil and Portugal is telling me that Rio de Janeiro is important dead line information associated to the planned Boeing 737 Global Extermination Aerial Mustard Gas Attack on the world. Everywhere.

When you combine that special window that I did not take a screenshot of, so, it was dark grey, for Grey Poupon. Then, it’s Adobe, for the kind of bricks made of earth by American natives, that means Terra-Cotta... terror.

So, Rio de Janeiro works out to River of Dejean Mustard De John Aero, or Arrow... as you want to choose your preference for the name of the fucking poison.

Then, at the Walmart, I bought Silk Brand Red Label Regular Soy Milk (they took all of the Very Vanilla flavor I like off of the shelf because they know I want some of that, and got information from my Chipped Debit Card. So, “no Very Vanilla in the Purple Colored Package for you”, is the message there (Royal Flush).

Ok, the Red Label Regular Soy Milk, is poisoned with a lot of laxative, it’s loaded with “Holy Shit Red Label Regular” sort of message there (Royal Flush), I am not sure how to interpret why the Red Label is important for the Holy Soy Shit Batman!” kind of thing that is going on with that.

Maybe it’s about guano from the Boeing 737 Mustard Flyover De John Arrow Global Adobe Bat Shitting Adobe Bricks Extermination World Wide Pants Event coming up here in about,...ohhh...looks like it’s supposed to start in about 72 hours or so from right now... I suppose it’s going to begin on 1-19, and continue for at least one revolution, of the world, so, until the 20th, just like the math says it will.

Then, if you also consider what Mitch McConnell was saying about “RidX” septic tank bacteria, and compare the Red Label Silk Soy Laxative that is going on at the Walmart, it’s even more blatant, in your face, many people wearing full face shields at the Grants Pass Walmart today, there is no doubt that we all going to die on next Tuesday, maybe roll around squirming like bugs in jar after Donny sprays them with raid for awhile, so, 24 hours of Mustard gas burning and choking and dying real slow, and painful, is coming down the road next week... it’s even bigger than a freight train, it’s a fucking aerial attack with human size Raid.

If you compare, the regular Walgreen‘s customer aisle, to the Walgreen‘s Express Customer Aisle, you can start there to see that there is some kind of difference that makes one person more special than another person for their health related needs. Then, if you make a comparison from the Red Label Silk Soy Milk Laxative, to RidX Septic Tank Bacteria that eats away at stubborn waste products, and can overcome even the strongest anti-bacteria COVID 19 Hand Sanitizer (that stuff will absolutely ruin your septic system, you will having to call the Andy Gump Septic Pump forever if you use the COVID 19 Soap), then you can start to see that the nitrous oxide regular Crusade Weapon, is a lot like vitamin B-12 is, a baby laxative you put in the formula, to feed the baby, is weak in comparison to Mustard Gas, Special Walgreen’s Express Customer Strength Crusade Weapon, for Biblical size results. The Baby Laxative is also associated to Boris Johnson saying something about “Feeding the Baby” the other day, I am thinking he is after the contents of “Treasury & Reserve” after the Baby Eats Shit in USA, and in his own country, in China, Japan, Korea, and parts of South America... everywhere... all of them have Treasuries... Pirates, hunt for treasure, that is their job description. Johnson is a leading Global Pirate.

“B” as in “Boeing”. “12″ as in Police (citizens are Police, in terror speak). RidX, as in Royal Flush.

“Feed the Baby” ~Boris Johnson

I’ll wager that there is a “Bib” somewhere in the Twitter news, all coded in to some stupid story about plumbing products somewhere,

Then, after that, SAG is going to have an awards ceremony to choose best actor in a Global Take Over, and best supporting Russian Whore in a Police Drama, and choose  Best Director for a Psycho-Thriller in Real Time.

French North American Republic Territory will be fully recognized as a Global Super Power by this time next year.

All because the people insist on believing Christian lies, and the national security is too fucking stupid and lazy to do their own research, for those reasons, many millions of people have been brutally murdered by the people they trusted. Many billions more, will be killed with overhead extermination by poison gas, by next week.

I am going go see if that bomb is still under my car... if so, I am the lucky one.

I hear Sau Paulo is nice this time of year.

===================

1-16-2021: 3:26 pm:

Bonus:

With that song and:

Black Jack

AD

Tomorrow/Perpetual Motion Machine/Next Day Air

and a crooked narcotics officer across the street...

I could pin-point the exact location, within about 10,000 sq. ft.  of where the plans to take over the world began in California with a pact made between Her Majesty The Queen, Elizabeth Windsor, and the Post British Invasion Music Industry Consortium that was the result of the 1964 British Invasion when the “Beatles Landed in USA. (it happened twice, sort of)

Those ingredients are not a small thing. That is some of the worlds most top secret information. It’s going cause a stir to post it here, so arm yourself.

It’s also the place where a ten year old boy designed that Dean ML Guitar while held captive.

1-16-2021: 4:02 pm:

Public Service Announcement:

The difference between a Barroadi and a Power Slide is contained in the wheelbase of the vehicle you travel with when the shit goes side-ways.

=====================================================

1-16-2021: 5:05 pm:

[mcstarr]

drunk boyfriend tag

summary: dan and phil get drunk and film the boyfriend tag (similar to what shane dawson did) tags: alcohol, so much sweetness and cuteness your teeth will hurt, extreme fluff by: angelboydjh on tumblr word count: ~1.8k first fic posted!! please, ignore any mistakes and reblog and like!! ilu!! send in requests for fics :-) ﾟ*｡:(人´v｀*)☆ﾟ:｡*ﾟ dan and phil got a little drunk. they originally got out some Ribena, which is completely unharmful, until dan spotted vodka on the kitchen counter, which they only keep for parties. its almost gone, with a half a bottle left, so dan thought of an idea. "phil, lets get drunk." phil looked at dan confused; dan never really likes drinking as much as he used to, hes grown, the satisfaction of being drunk doesnt really thrill as much, and its the same with phil. "why?" asked phil, sipping his Ribena. "because why not! we have no meeting tomorrow, we are bored out of our minds, and itll be fun! we'll even be safe, we can control each other well." phil thought about it. he never really likes hangovers, who does? he gets them bad, and he knows dan gets them worse, but dan was right, they were extremely bored and had no meetings tomorrow. phil shrugged, and replied with a sure, causing dan to jump up with joy. dan grabbed the bottle and went to phils room, closing the door, and sitting on his bed. he opens to bottle and pours a lot in his drink, doing the same to phil. there is now many 4 shots full left of the drink and dan was happy he rationed out well. "wanna do a toast?" asked phil. "with our vodka filled ribena?" chuckled dan. phil nodded, giggling a little. "why not?" phil responded, and dan nodded agreeing. they lifted their glass cups up and they look at each other. "to us!" dan laughed at the cliché, but echoed phil, and a clink noise was heard when the touched glasses. dan downed about half of his drink in that one sip, phil only taking a baby sip. phil made a face, hating the taste of vodka. dan hid his disgust, looking at phil. "now we wait." dan took another sip, already feeling slightly dizzy. *:･ﾟ✧ dan was fully drunk. he was giggling, putting his head on phil, slurring his words, all of it. phil was only tipsy. he didnt drink much yet, only about half of his drink. dan, of course, drank all of it, even the rest in the bottle! "phil!" dan slurred out, and phil glanced over slowly, so he doesnt get dizzy, and raised his eyebrow. "we should do a boyfriend tag." phil thought about this. is he that drunk that he doesnt really care if they do one or not? yes. he doesnt really care, its not like itll be posted. phil knows better than that. "sure." phil got up to get his camera from the other side of the room, and dan plopped on the bed laughing at who knows what. it took phil about 2 minutes to set up everything for filming, and an extra 5 minutes to find good goddamn questions. he finally found some question, a total of twenty. he can barely read them because of his blurry vision, and since he didnt have neither his contacts or glasses on. so he grabbed his glasses from the bed side and put them on to see if itll help. nope. he took another sip of his drink and locked his phone. he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. he gets up and turns on the camera, praying to god its in focus. "dan, its on, we are filming." once those words left phils mouth, dan shot up from phils bed and looked at phil. "okay, okay, okay, okay," he kept repeating that until he finally was next to phil on the bed facing the camera. phil giggled at dan, dan looking at him with his red cheeks. "okay, ready, babe?" asked phil, seeing double of dan. dan nodded, and smiled at phil and then at the camera. "okay," phil breathed in and then 'took in his persona'. "hey guys!" he said cheerfully, but all it did is make him dizzy. dan was like, on top of phil, so hes grateful that he was, or phil wouldve fallen over. "im here with dan." phil pointed at him, and dan waved, his white oversized cat shirt being exposed, and you could even see his naked legs, since hes wearing shorts. "we are doing the boyfriend tag." phil said slowly, and dan nodded jumping up and down on the bed. "phil is my boyfriend! boyfriend phil! philip lester, boyfriend!" he yelled, making phil giggle. "okay, want ask the questions, or do u want me go ask them?" asked phil to dan. "ask me the questions! then we will do it back!" dan suggested, and phil nodded encouragingly. "okay, first question." phil unlocked his phone and read it very carefully. "when is my birthday?" he asked. "bonus points for the zodiac sign!" "january 30th, that makes you a......" he strung out the 'a' to think. "an Aquarius! aquarium." he laughed, and phil chuckled. "correct baby." he leaned in to kiss dan, and dan kissed him, tasting of vodka and ribena. "okay, now," phil was going to go to the next question, but dan protested. "now do mine! do mine!" dan pouted, crossing his arms. "june 11th! youre a gemini." phil stuttered out, making dan laugh. "lucky guess." he muttered jokingly. "next question," phil scrolled down the page. "where did i grow up?" "im too drunk for this phil!!" he moaned out. "the north! thats all youre getting." "well, youre not wrong." said phil. "ill give you the point." "what about me?" asked dan. "the south." "ugh! exact place!" "not fair, you didnt do that for me!" "ugh, whatever." dan pouted again. "wipe that pout off your face princess." phil whispered, grabbing dans chin. "im just kidding philly!" dan kissed phil, getting him off guard. "okay, next," phil asked. "whats my middle name?" "michael! these are too easy! i want harder ones. test me!" dan groaned out, and phil rolled his eyes. "okay, okay," phil said. he scrolled down to another website, which had different questions. "how about this: where was our first date?" "EASY!" he yelled, throwing his hands up. "well, kinda," he muttered. "its hard!" "well, tell me." phil said suggestively, leaning closer to dan. "we first met of course at the train station," he muttered out. "and then we went straight to your house, and, did things. does that count as a first date?" this took him way too long to say, as he was stuttering madly. "yes, it does. great job, cutie." phil said happily and leaned in for a kiss. "okay, let me ask the question!" phil started to give him the phone, but dan refused, saying he wants go make one up. "whats the first thing you notice about me?" he asked a bashful. "your smile." phil said simply. no explanation was needed to make dan feel all warm inside. dan covered his face and leaned on phils shoulder, grinning like mad. once he got up, he looked at phil, seeing his wonderful, eyes. "you know what mine is." he muttered, almost inaudible. it was phils turn to blush. they lean in and kiss once again, but longer than before. when they pulled apart, dan was seeing actual stars, and couldnt even understand what was happening, completely forgot about the video. "oh my god, i love you so much." he said in a shush tone, with phils hand on his cheek. they were only a few inches away from each other, and phil loved it. phil was exploding every inch of dans face, and so was dan. every moment phil made, it made him more dizzy and more dazed, but he didnt care. within a few moments, they both locked eyes, and somehow, both remembered they were recording. "uh, one more question," phil stuttered out, as dan looked around for his almost empty drink. "okay, last question. what is my favorite color?" "easy, blue." dan said, as he drank his final sips of his drink before crushed it and threw it. "hey!" phil protested, looking over at the cup. "ill pick it ip later, babe." dan slurred out almost incoherently. "whats mine?" "easy, pink." phil mocked. dan smiled softly, putting his arms around phils neck, phil put this hands on dans waist. "what kind of pink?" he muttered, with his sloppy grin on his face, his curly hair perfect in tack still. (which surprised phil) "pastel." dan groaned jokingly, letting his head drop down onto phils shoulders. "oh my god, i tried to trick you!" dan yelled. "well, you didnt. 8 years of friendship pays off." phil joked. dan put his head on phils shoulder, his head facing the camera. "can we finish? i wanna cuddle with you watch disney movies." phil chuckled and nodded. "we'll finish, lets do the outro." phil tapped dan, so he can get up from his shoulder, but dan didnt move a muscle, indicating hes not moving. "okay, well, goodbye everyone, please like a subscribe to me and dans channel, and our gaming channel! love you!" he waved and awkwardly looked at dan. "i need to turn off that camera baby." dan groaned and got up from phils shoulder. phil got up and turned off the camera, sitting right on his bed again next to dan. "can we just cuddle?" phil can tell dan was getting tired, and getting all drained. he gets like this when hes drunk, but also after recording videos. "of course, princess." phil laid down, then wrapping his arms around dan who is not next to them. they peacefully fall asleep, with the lights on and phils snoring. *:･ﾟ✧ it was the morning, and phil is posting his premade video on lessamazingphil, just a quick vlog from florida. its taking surprisingly long to process, since its only 2 minutes, but phil didnt question it. its almost done, so phil went to go see dan, who has the worst hangover ever. "how are you baby?" asked phil, laying next to dan. "better, how bad was it?" he asked, and phil laughed. "you were fine, not as bad as a few months ago, but you were not any better." dan groaned, and at that moment his phone dinged. he unlocked his phone to see the notification, YouTube popping up, and it was phils new video. "uh, phil." dan said. "yes?" phil hummed. "you posted the wrong video." "what?" phil yelled a little too loudly for dan, as he backed away and gave phil his phone in just one beat. "i uploaded our drunk boyfriend tag." dans eyes widen. "we filmed a video? no way, i dont remember this. did we kiss?" "i was drunk too!" "well, i would keep it up." "why?" "we already made this mistake once, lets just let them have what they want."

#please reblog #dan howell #daniel howell #phan #phil lester #philip lester #amazingphil #danisnotonfire #youtube #fanfic #fanfiction #phanfic #phanfiction #phanfictioncatalogue #danandphilgames #tatinof #tabinof #dapgo #dapg #gay #lol #my fics #phan is real #dan #howell #phil #lester #philip #daniel

[catarinehancock]

december 31st, 2015, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time. you were talking to a girl and i could tell that you were capturing her with every syllable that left your mouth. and i knew why: you were beautiful and bright, and i was drawn to you even then, like the planets are drawn to the sun. december 31st, 2015, 11:58 pm: we met standing in line for the bathroom. you introduced yourself, and asked for my name, smiling when i gave it. "lovely," you murmured, and repeated it a few more times, rolling the letters around in your mouth like a new food. january 1st, 2016, 12:05 am: i could still feel you on me, your lips, minutes, hours, months later. the clock had struck midnight and you just grabbed me, didn't ask if it was okay until it was over. you were laughing, brushing it off, all teeth and well-kissed lips, but i knew i saw you blushing.  january 21st, 2016, 1:12 pm: you got my number through the mutual friend that threw the party. i still don't know how you got my address. i didn't remember telling you. you couldn't tell me, either. february 14th, 2016, 9:12 pm: you took me out to dinner and bought me chocolate and roses. it was all so cliche, and i loved every second of it. when you kissed me good night, i swore i could feel the rest of my life, pressed right up against my lips. february 26th, 2016, 11:33 pm: we made it official. i remember how you asked me, how shy you got, like you didn't know what the answer would be. march 17th, 2016, 5:43 pm: we spent the day at the saint patrick's day parade, and you filled yourself with beer and kissed me hard against the bar bathroom door. i drove you home and that was the first time you told me you loved me. march 18th, 2016, 9:24 am: you called me and told me you loved me again. "i want to make sure that you know i still mean it when i'm sober," you said. march 24th, 2016, 1:09 pm: i met your parents at easter brunch. you had demanded i come with you, and i was glad i did. your mother was kind and beautiful, and your father was warm and handsome, just like i knew they'd be. after we'd eaten, your mother got me alone. "he's never brought a girl home before," she told me, "normally he isn't very open about who he's dating. but you, you're different. don't read into this, but i think he may really think you're special." april 12th, 2016, 8:31 pm: you saw me naked for the first time, and you kissed every inch of my skin. i'd never felt that much love from anybody before that night, and i haven't since. not even you could replicate those few hours. may 5th, 2016, 4:57 pm: we fought for the first time. i ran into my ex at the grocery store and wanted to chat for a few minutes. you didn't. when we got in the car, you told me that if i was still in love with somebody else i could just leave, and i told you that you should trust me and not be so insecure about our relationship. we screamed the whole way home and you slammed the car door when i dropped you off. i almost crashed three times on the drive home. may 6th, 2016, 8:03 am: you came by with flowers and breakfast. "I'm sorry," you told me, "you just mean so much to me, and the thought of you ever being anyone else's makes me sick." i smiled, "but you don't have to worry about that now. i'm yours." june 16th, 2016, 10:51 pm: for my birthday you took me out to dinner and gave me a beautiful necklace with a silver chain and pearl pendant. we drank expensive wine and stumbled back to my place and fucked. i had never been fucked before, not like this. i woke up the next morning with bite marks on my neck and hickeys all the way down my stomach, but you were gone. "had to run," you'd written on a post it note, "i love you." june 18th, 2016, 2: 41 pm: i hadn't seen you since my birthday and you weren't picking up when i'd call. june 19th, 2016, 3:13 am: " had to run," the post it note had said. maybe you were running from me. i couldn't tell if it was the 3 am darkness talking or the part of me that already knew. july 1st, 2016, 4:01 am: i looked over at you, sleeping in the darkness beside me. when we were together, things felt perfectly normal. but now, i could feel the shifts. "are we falling apart?" i whispered to you, and although i hadn't expected an answer, the silence broke my heart all the same. july 4th, 2016, 6:47 pm: we were at a barbecue and i saw you across the crowd, talking to a girl. i saw the way she was drinking up every word that escaped from between your lips, and that's when i knew. that's when i knew you weren't mine anymore. july 21st, 2016, 7:08 pm: i brought it up to you. "i think we're starting to grow apart," i said, "there's a distance between us that wasn't here before." you reassured me that it was all in my head, but i didn't hear it in your voice. i didn't see it in your eyes. you knew it was there, too, but unlike me, you weren't trying to do anything to stop it. august 10th, 2016, 11:37 pm: i lay awake and thought about what your mother said, all these months later. "don't read into this." but of course i did. i couldn't help myself. fuck, i loved you so much. august 15th, 2016, 1:12 pm: you invited me over and i discovered that the key you'd given me no longer worked. "i had the locks changed," you said, "i'll get you a new one." it was a lie, and i knew it. you didn't get me a new key. september 8th, 2016, 2:00 pm: i caught you cheating. in a desperate attempt to revive the romance we'd had at the beginning of our relationship, i bought dinner and brought it to your place. when you finally opened the door, i saw it written all over your face; the way your eyes widened, the way your jaw dropped, the way your cheeks drained of color. i heard it in the stammer of your voice, the sharp intake of your breath, the grinding of your teeth. when the girl walked up behind you, half naked, asking who it was at the door, i already knew. "how could you?" i whispered, and you just opened and closed your mouth. the girl pieced it together and started screaming. she hadn't known. i left the food at the doorstep. september 10th, 2016, 1:49 am: you never called after that, never came by, never reached out, but it wasn't like we'd needed to confirm anything. i knew it was over, but it took every ounce of willpower i had not to go back to your place and find out why, why everything. september 27th, 2016, 6:20 pm: i kept finding myself huddled in a ball; in my bedroom, in my kitchen, in my shower. not crying, or yelling. just huddled, clutching my body close to myself, staring. still not understanding. october 31st 2016, 9:01 pm: i spent halloween haunted by the ghost of you. your face was around every corner. i could still feel your touch trickling down my spine. that night, i lost it. the anger surged through the sadness and bubbled to the surface. i screamed until my throat was raw, screamed at nothing, about nothing, for no reason other than i was too full. november 10th, 2016, 2:17 am: you called me when you were drunk and i answered. i listened to you ramble, vomiting up apology after apology. near the end, you told me you loved me. "call me tomorrow when you're sober if you still love me," i said.  you didn't.  november 25th, 2016, 7:15 pm: i went out on a date with somebody new. they didn't pull me in like you did, but for a few hours, i forgot about you and i felt okay. i drank myself to sleep that night so i wouldn't have to think about you. the next morning, the hangover hurt more than you did. it was a start. december 24th, 2016, 8:12 pm: i was spending christmas with my family, and i was doing great until my aunt asked about you. i told her you cheated, but i was doing okay, and then i excused myself and threw up the appetizers into the toilet. i called you then, and when you picked up, i let out a sob. "you ruined me, you fuck," i croaked, "and you can't even apologize. not when you're sober, at least." there were a few seconds of silence, and then you hung up. i still hope that it ruined your christmas. december 31st, 2016, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time in months across the crowd. it made me sick to know that even after all that had happened, you were still the most beautiful person in the room to me. december 31st, 2016, 11:55 pm: you found me in the kitchen. "i wanted to tell you i'm sorry," you yelled over the music, "and i miss you." and in those final moments of the year, i thought about it. i thought about letting you back in. the countdown started, and you moved closer to me. and i.. i pushed you away. i turned away from you and said, "no. i can't." and i walked out of the room. january 1st, 2017, 12:05 am: i have forgotten how you felt against me, your lips. and for the first time, i am finally okay with that.

a year in review -c.h. // instagram: @evanescent.love (via @poeticaffinity)

#poems #poetry #poem #love poem #love poems #love poetry #love #heartbreak #moving on #slam poetry #slam poem #slam poems #prose #heartbroken #relationships #break ups #writing #creative writing #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled writing #spilled words

[ventingoutmyass]

7.23.19

I think I'm ready to talk about it.

I went on a bender this summer because of some deep rooted emotional distress that took a long time for me to find and try to understand. And although I'm still figuring out for myself what it is and exactly what it means, I'm going to do my best to relay it to you.

The year is 2009, I was in my sixth grade classroom. I saw a familiar face walk into the room, a girl that I had met the year before, through a mutual friend. I was the only person she knew in the class so she started to hang out with my friends and I, and we became close very fast and she was soon my best friend. I'm going to refer to her as "N".

N was a little Muslim girl who's family had become very americanized after moving here when she was a toddler, she knew little about her religion and culture and didnt wear a hijab. Her parents spoke broken English and her home life was pretty erratic because of neglect from her parents to her and her two younger siblings who were born in the states.

In seventh grade we became close friends with another old friend of mine, from first grade. I'll call her, "R". The three of us were inseparable. Between 2010 and 2011 the three of us each had very hectic lives outside of school. N's family put a lot of pressure on her to help around the house and take care of her brother and sister while secretly experiencing emotional neglect and verbal and physical abuse from her parents. R's mom had passed about two years prior and she was left with a father who also emotionally and physically neglected her. I was watching my life crumble under me from my parents separation during this time. We rarely talked about the troubles we were having at home, but we were always able to leave them at home because we came to school everyday to be with our best friends.

In eighth grade my two friends each moved to a different school, mostly due to long commutes and experiencing a lot of bullying the year before. We still talked to eachother everyday and got together constantly.

N and I ended up going to the same high school, and spent every moment available together. At one point our freshman year when her parents were separating, she lived with my family for a few weeks. She was always at my house and became a member of my family. My parents took her under their wing and treated her as their own. She was my sister.

Throughout high school we had our ups and downs, at one point junior year our connection was growing weak and then we had our first and only class together for all of high school. We bonded again and our friendship was my top priority. She was always my top priority, especially knowing how stressful life was at home for her. I wanted to be the place that she could be only happy and always feel safe, and that's what my family and I were for her. Her home.

The three of us got together every few months throughout high school, as N and I watched over the years R had began to change into a person we did not recognize. She surrounded herself with bad influences and made poor decisions that I got to see first hand a few times, which often made me take a step back from her.

After graduation we started to drift a bit, just because we didnt see eachother every day and adult life gets in the way. But I still spoke to her almost every day and often saw her on weekends and she spent a lot of holidays with my family. She flew back to Iraq to visit family for a month that summer and bonded a lot with her aunts and cousins. Shortly after coming home she started dating a boy she knew from work and while he wasnt a terrible influence on her, I saw her personality shift a little. She became obsessed with this boy and didnt pay as much attention to me, of course I got jealous but we often made plans to hang out all three of us. Her parents eventually found out about him and they broke up soon after.

The next January, of 2017, she decided to stay with her family in Iraq for seven months. In case you don't remember, shortly after she left, a travel ban was placed from several countries to the US, including Iraq. I begged her to come back while she still could, she refused and assured me that it would get figured out when time came for her to come home. On August 3rd, she made it home. She was much more in touch with her religion and her culture and learned a lot more Arabic including how to read and write it. She began wearing a hijab and dressing much more modestly. She behaved very different and it felt like she was a completely new person. As much as I missed who my old friend was, she was finally happy with her life. That's all I wanted for her, and that's what mattered to me. I saw who she was when she wasnt miserable, for the first time in over seven years.

That August, she met a boy. And to be honest with you, it all goes downhill from there. A few months later, she took a pregnancy test, and it came out positive. She went to the doctor who gave her a real test and when it came out negative, she walked out of the office with a prescription for birth control.

That May two months later, when she never got her period and the symptoms didnt stop, she went back for another test. She was eleven weeks pregnant. Days later, her boyfriends mom told her parents against her wishes. She called me that night sobbing, begging me to take her away. My mom and I raced over to her and I sat in her room as she cried while my mom talked to her parents for over two hours about the situation she was in and the paths they can take. My mom talked them out of sending her to China to get sewn back up after an abortion. We went back home without her that night, the first of many regrets I have.

I talked to her about the two realistic options we could think of.

Take the baby and run away somewhere that her parents wouldnt be able to find her. We had countless people reach out to help her and offer her places to stay and people to help with the baby.

Get an abortion and continue to keep her siblings and distant family in her life

She wanted what she wanted. She wanted her boyfriend, her baby, and her family. I told her there was no way to have it all. She wouldnt listen to me or my mom who knew very well the situation she was in and who her family were. She would only listen to advice from people who told her what she wanted to hear. People who knew nothing about her family or the dangerous situation she put herself in. She chose to live in a fantasy world where she could prepare for having a baby and announce it to everyone who would listen. In the frustration and exhaustion, I gave up. I accepted that anything I said or did wouldn't affect any choice she would make. I was emotionally drained as well as my family. I told her that I would be there as soon as she would ask for my help and I stopped bugging her about it. She didn't call me again. Another big regret of mine.

She soon got an abortion against her will. In her grievance, she went back to Iraq that July. I didnt talk to her much at all after she left. Initially I was told it would be until the fall. At the end of September I asked her when she expected to come home. She said either October or November. She never came home and I've never heard from her since.

I've lived my life alone since then. I had lots of other friends and a loving boyfriend by my side and my family was always there, but I always felt empty. A piece of me was always missing. By May of 2019, I had pushed away all of my friends and my boyfriend and I broke up. Nothing mattered to me anymore. I felt so alone that I pushed my family away as well. Loneliness had swallowed me whole.

That only thing that made me feel anything was this boy I had made friends with from work and I spent every single moment with him for about a month and a half. I didn't know why this was happening to me. I didn't know why I didn't care about anyone or anything else. I felt no emotions and nothing mattered. I went to work every day, and went to his house to get high and feel anything I could. He made me feel alive in a time that I couldn't feel anything else at all. I couldnt even think straight enough to realize what was really going on.

I felt such an intense loneliness that I couldnt spare myself for anything that wasn't completely easy. I never went home because I couldn't handle facing something that I couldn't even see. It meant facing reality and facing myself. I got sick again. I couldn't think. It was like I forgot how to think. I didn't give myself time to write. I didn't allow myself to be free of any distractions for weeks. I was always at work, or high, or with this boy. Usually, all three. I wanted to live in this world I had created for myself to mimick what I remembered happiness felt like.

The loneliness slowly started to kill me. It wasn't until about three weeks ago that I started to realize that something huge was going on with me and that I needed to figure it out and deal with it so I could get back to living a normal life.

I realize that losing the one person I always promised to keep, hit me hard. The one person I trusted to stay with me until the day I die is gone and I will never get that person back. It was supposed to be her and I against the world. My forever, my person. I promised to always protect her. I promised her that I would be there for every single thing she needed. I gave up on her. I gave up and lost her. I have the live the rest of my life never knowing what I could've done different. Thinking the rest of my life about what I should have done. Everything I didn't think about doing. I should've take her that night. I never should've left her side. I should have quit my job to be next to her through the turmoil. Nothing matters because I don't want to live in a world where she doesn't exist. I can't function through heartache without her to feel it with me

I have to learn to live in a world without my best friend

#i still have baby clothes in my car

[engl699readingjournal-blog]

after my initial time spent in Berlin, I wanted to see all the friends I had made (miraculously) again as soon as possible. the fall semester was a real special kind of dismal – at some point before studying abroad, I remember thinking how dumb it sounded to feel “culture shock” or any kind of adjustment period when coming back into your own element, your home, your comfort zone. what was the big deal? I’d go back to school the next week and catch up with my Maryland folks and pick up where I left off. I thought that anyone who felt culture shock re-immersing themselves into the culture in which they were raised, and which they only left for about six or seven months, was surely being overdramatic.

I did not pick up where I’d left off. for all intents and purposes I went on with my senior year as expected, because the academic calendar does not stop or slow down to accommodate your mental breakdowns. there was the matter of getting off the bupropion, which took seven more months to accomplish – at one breaking point I flushed all the pills down the toilet and proceeded to have an extended withdrawal period that I refused to go to the doctor and talk about precisely because I didn’t want to admit to flushing the fucking pills down the toilet. the “what are you going to do after you graduate?” question started to assault my conscience from all angles. the stories I came back with about my new friends, my experiences, some absolute disasters, felt increasingly not worth sharing. none of the people I told them to were there, they had only experienced filtered pictures of streets in Prenzlauer Berg and weird shit displayed at the Schwules Museum through my Instagram. they knew very little of the manic episodes and the hospital visit, which were things I unsurprisingly decided not to broadcast. some friends noticed my tendency to be up tweeting at times when they should have been in bed and chalked it up to my becoming some kind of Berlin night denizen. I did spend a lot of nights out late, but the fact is that most of those tweets were probably posted from my bed where I sometimes sat among enormous boxes of Aldi cereal and sacks of stale rolls and huge mineral water bottles for 36 hours at a time without moving.

there was nobody to talk about that with. talking about that would have required backstory; letting someone from home in on an inside story or anecdote that involved a Berlin friend would have involved me explaining everything from how I met this or that person up to the circumstances that got us into this or that situation and why it was funny in the first place, and that was exhausting, so I just didn’t bother. I thought the solution to this slump was to go back as soon as I could and throw myself back into the life I had created for myself there, for whatever reason not really considering that the obvious common denominator when it came to all my Big Life Issues was me. so I went back for the New Year and stayed with one of my closest friends there for the entire month of January. during the spring and summer we had spent a lot of time hanging and visited London together in July. I think to them I was sort of an interesting figure; I had sort of materialized in their life right when they were at the end of a nine-year relationship and when I guess I made it pretty clear that I was not interested in That we became friends. I think they were very intrigued by how fucking far away I lived; at the beginning, when I was invited somewhere, I showed up, having somehow found my way to the location, then just vanished when the night was over. I don’t know what kind of questions were asked about me or if anyone asked any questions at all, but I guess that superficially this strange artsy American student with sunken eyes and skin the color of white asparagus vibe was attractive. by the time I went home, we had become very close, and I was in good standing with their whole gang, I didn’t think about how shitty it is to be trans every ten minutes, I didn’t have a dining plan or a fucking RA, I felt like a God Damn Adult.

I was not a God Damn Adult. I don’t think it was that I felt more mature than I actually was, but mental illness makes you feel that way. when you are depressed, it is sometimes hard to remember that you can’t keep a routine because you are sick, not because you expect other people to do your laundry or cook for you. when you are anorexic, it is sometimes hard to remember that you aren’t eating because you are committed to not eating, not because you are too irresponsible to go grocery shopping. when you have anxiety, it is sometimes hard to remember that you won’t go into a packed bar or board an overcrowded train out of self-preservation and not because you’re too shy or sheltered to face the Real World. I have faced many aspects of the Real World. sometimes I prefer to limit my intake of it.

something about returning to Berlin for the winter break felt like returning home after being called away by an inconvenient business trip. my friends in Berlin had seen parts of myself that my friends and even family at home did not – not really because I trusted them more, but because various illnesses manifested themselves differently while I was away, new illnesses developed, some illnesses worsened. it wasn’t so much a matter of me letting them in, but that it was all very plainly visible and impossible to avoid discussing. it was good to be back around them. the semester had been draining and I was content to sit in my friend’s apartment scowling at and defacing Siegessäule magazine, watching movies, sitting in the same two cafés within a block of the apartment. I had plans to go to museums and exhibitions, but forgot I didn’t have the money to do that. I was still using my expired student ID from the F.U. to take transit. David Bowie died that month and I spent an entire week with another close friend, sitting in Neues Ufer and moping. I bought soy milk, black bread, and mango-curry spread and ate these breakfasts with great ceremony when I woke up at noon. I contributed rent money, bought toilet paper and cleaned the apartment when I felt it was cluttered, I tried my best to leave no traces of my existence as a guest because that to me was what a good guest did. apparently it was not good enough.

two days before I left, this friend and I went to brunch at a place around the corner and shared a large Mediterranean brunch plate. I remembered this place from the summer, when the floor-to-ceiling windows opened outward and the seating overflowed onto the sidewalk. now it was perpetually slate-grey and snowing. later I learned that this friend hated Berlin in the winter, so maybe I wasn’t entirely responsible for their decision to lay out every flaw in my personality onto the tiny breakfast table like a door-to-door curtain salesman might fan out swatches of fabric for a housewife’s consideration. but that’s what happened. not five minutes into the meal, which was an obscenely large arrangement of brightly-colored fruits that felt absurd considering that we were seated against cold foggy glass through which I watched people in 35 pounds of layers bike past. a small park across the street was frozen over – I remembered eating ice cream there a few days before flying home in August. now it was littered with trash and petrified dog shit preserved under a layer of frost – my friend asked if I had enjoyed myself.

yes, definitely, I said. I had had a really awful semester, I was glad to be away from home in January. January, I explained without feeling the need to go into excessive detail, was historically the worst month of the year for me. if someone died, it was in January. if I wanted to die, it was in January. I wasn’t feeling that way this year. I felt rested. some things needed to be taken care of when I got home, like the extended bupropion withdrawal and the panic attacks, but I was nonetheless very happy to have seen everyone. I had enjoyed myself.

this didn’t seem to be the answer they were hoping for. I guess they were hoping I would say something along the lines of: “well, you know, I realized that I’m unmotivated to pull myself out of a minor funk by forcing myself to do things I don’t want to do,” or, “well, you know, I realized that I’m moody and deal with increasingly confrontational conversations with friends by going silent,” or, “well, you know, I really wish I had done more.” because that’s what I ended up learning about myself in the next thirty seconds – that I made little effort to feel better when I was down, which must have meant I didn’t want to get better in any facet of my life. that I spent days at a time content with sitting in a café instead of going to museums and theaters the way I had planned on doing before arriving.

well, I said, I didn’t realize how tired I was. I had more in mind for myself than I wanted to do.

but you really didn’t do much at all. you spent most of the time in the apartment.

no, I really don’t feel like that was all I did.

it just seems to me that you are maybe – not so independent.

this I found really odious and began raving. fuck the giant fruit plate that sat between us uncomfortably, big as a pottery wheel. not independent?

well, I remember back in July –

fucking July?

when we were in London. you said you might not have done much at all if I hadn’t initiated our days out. and this month, for example, when you had to go to the grocery store sometimes, you asked me if I wanted to come too. and if I said no, you wouldn’t go either, instead of just going by yourself.

fucking July? the grocery store? I got there eventually, didn’t I, each time? nobody ever shat without toilet paper, did they? I walked around about six cities by myself, hadn’t I? was it not clear that I meant our ideas of visiting a city were different – I took walks, they liked museums?

and that sometimes I was slow to react, as if I spent more time in my head than in reality. I did not take initiative. I drank tea but never made it. I only helped open the windows to air out the room when they were already up doing it.

I only drank the tea because it was there and I knew you weren’t going to drink two liters of hot lemon water with chunks of ginger. I never thought to open the windows myself because I thought it was a pointless exercise in making a room 7 degrees and no less stuffy than before.

not independent? I flew into a complete rage. did they know that when I spoke about how January was historically bad it was because of a high-school suicide attempt that stained the entire month for me, that when I said I was content with my January for once it was because it was the first January in five years in which I wasn’t close to doing that again? I didn’t want them to know all this, but it ended up that way. why do people not point things out to me as they happen? why compile a dossier and then present it to me like an airing of grievances or the way a court clerk reads a docket aloud to the judge at an arraignment? I told them I would never do something like this to anyone I called a friend and went silent. the still-hot cup of black tea was to be unfinished, a roll I had ripped in half was left on the heap of stupid fruit and hummus. fuck you, I thought. eat this entire ridiculous plate yourself. I wondered whether it would be a good idea to spend my last two nights in a hostel, if this whole thing was that big of a deal. they told me that they hadn’t expected my reaction and were only trying to help. I said I was done eating and started counting Euros to pay them back for half the cost of the plate. I had to walk to a friend’s nearby apartment to pick up the bike I had borrowed and ridden once and drop it off with its owner, another few blocks away. I would see them back at the apartment.

in many of the conversations between Isherwood and the two Landauer cousins – Natalia and Bernhard – I feel reverberations of the conversations I had with this friend, who is still a friend. many instances of “why are you asking me this question?” and “what are you thinking about me based on this answer I’m giving?” many small spats that end in silence that is sometimes just as explosive as the argument that should be had. many feelings that conversations were more judgment than lively discussion, comprising many topics that I didn’t feel like talking about but would have been met with a “why?” if avoided: why wasn’t my position against parents beating their kids’ asses stronger? I don’t know. my parents beat my ass on what I felt was probably the proper occasion. was it possible that I was attracted to men since I wrote stories about men who were attracted to men? no. how did I know? why wouldn’t I get a soup? I ate a Kinder bar from the fucking vending machine on the train platform and didn’t want anything. why? many whys. many back-and-forths like this. many signs that both people are carrying around too much baggage associated with the fucking month of January. at the gloomy winter excursion to the Landauers’ Wannsee country house, Isherwood enters, at Bernhard’s invitation, into a space of memory and tragic association for a reason that he does not quite himself understand. why is he the one privy to Bernhard’s entire life story? what exactly is the nature of this relationship? why do months pass before they speak again? in Isherwood’s crafted world of innuendo and suggestion, we do not know just how intimate this relationship is. at a closer look, holes open up in the narrative that could easily be filled with the obvious. as with the famous ellipsis in The Great Gatsby, one moment Isherwood is being led to Bernhard’s bedroom with Bernhard’s hand on his shoulder. the next morning they are having breakfast. I have such holes in my own memory but I am sure none of them involve sex. depression eats away at your brain cells, its effect much like that of self-censorship.

in June, during my study abroad, I went to the hospital for a panic attack. as with most panic attacks, I thought I was going to die, and when I explained to the E.R. doctor that I had a laundry list of pre-existing psychological conditions I was put into a bus and rerouted to a mental health clinic on the Wannsee (after we made a really unnecessary detour through Charlottenburg which added an entire hour to the journey). there, I spoke in English with a woman whose job was apparently to stay up all night and receive nutjobs like me at 3 AM in her small, inviting office. she asked me if I wanted to stay there. that sounded terrifying. I had work to do and nineteen credits to earn. no, I did not want to stay there. yes, I would start eating. yes, I would take care of myself. she told me I was brave for being here all alone with all of the things that I was dealing with, and that it took a great deal of strength to take all of your problems abroad with you – many people foolishly thought that going somewhere meant somehow that those problems would not come with them. I did not see myself as brave or strong. I saw myself sitting in a consultation room at a psych clinic while the sun rose. I wondered whether I would be forced to stay on some grounds, whether saying “yes” to an invitation to stay was the only right answer. but “no” was accepted. I walked out with a business card, saying goodbye to the man at the reception desk like I was leaving a Holiday Inn. I walked a few miles until I decided it was time to get on a bus.

(this was not something I tweeted about)

[ella-the-vamp-blog]

Dan and Phil's boyfriend tag drunk video fanfic

dan and phil got a little drunk. they originally got out some Ribena, which is completely unharmful, until dan spotted vodka on the kitchen counter, which they only keep for parties. its almost gone, with a half a bottle left, so dan thought of an idea. “phil, lets get drunk.” phil looked at dan confused; dan never really likes drinking as much as he used to, hes grown, the satisfaction of being drunk doesnt really thrill as much, and its the same with phil. “why?” asked phil, sipping his Ribena. “because why not! we have no meeting tomorrow, we are bored out of our minds, and itll be fun! we’ll even be safe, we can control each other well.” phil thought about it. he never really likes hangovers, who does? he gets them bad, and he knows dan gets them worse, but dan was right, they were extremely bored and had no meetings tomorrow. phil shrugged, and replied with a sure, causing dan to jump up with joy. dan grabbed the bottle and went to phils room, closing the door, and sitting on his bed. he opens to bottle and pours a lot in his drink, doing the same to phil. there is now many 4 shots full left of the drink and dan was happy he rationed out well. “wanna do a toast?” asked phil. “with our vodka filled ribena?” chuckled dan. phil nodded, giggling a little. “why not?” phil responded, and dan nodded agreeing. they lifted their glass cups up and they look at each other. “to us!” dan laughed at the cliché, but echoed phil, and a clink noise was heard when the touched glasses. dan downed about half of his drink in that one sip, phil only taking a baby sip. phil made a face, hating the taste of vodka. dan hid his disgust, looking at phil. “now we wait.” dan took another sip, already feeling slightly dizzy. *:･ﾟ✧ dan was fully drunk. he was giggling, putting his head on phil, slurring his words, all of it. phil was only tipsy. he didnt drink much yet, only about half of his drink. dan, of course, drank all of it, even the rest in the bottle! “phil!” dan slurred out, and phil glanced over slowly, so he doesnt get dizzy, and raised his eyebrow. “we should do a boyfriend tag.” phil thought about this. is he that drunk that he doesnt really care if they do one or not? yes. he doesnt really care, its not like itll be posted. phil knows better than that. “sure.” phil got up to get his camera from the other side of the room, and dan plopped on the bed laughing at who knows what. it took phil about 2 minutes to set up everything for filming, and an extra 5 minutes to find good goddamn questions. he finally found some question, a total of twenty. he can barely read them because of his blurry vision, and since he didnt have neither his contacts or glasses on. so he grabbed his glasses from the bed side and put them on to see if itll help. nope. he took another sip of his drink and locked his phone. he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. he gets up and turns on the camera, praying to god its in focus. “dan, its on, we are filming.” once those words left phils mouth, dan shot up from phils bed and looked at phil. “okay, okay, okay, okay,” he kept repeating that until he finally was next to phil on the bed facing the camera. phil giggled at dan, dan looking at him with his red cheeks. “okay, ready, babe?” asked phil, seeing double of dan. dan nodded, and smiled at phil and then at the camera. “okay,” phil breathed in and then ‘took in his persona’. “hey guys!” he said cheerfully, but all it did is make him dizzy. dan was like, on top of phil, so hes grateful that he was, or phil wouldve fallen over. “im here with dan.” phil pointed at him, and dan waved, his white oversized cat shirt being exposed, and you could even see his naked legs, since hes wearing shorts. “we are doing the boyfriend tag.” phil said slowly, and dan nodded jumping up and down on the bed. “phil is my boyfriend! boyfriend phil! philip lester, boyfriend!” he yelled, making phil giggle. “okay, want ask the questions, or do u want me go ask them?” asked phil to dan. “ask me the questions! then we will do it back!” dan suggested, and phil nodded encouragingly. “okay, first question.” phil unlocked his phone and read it very carefully. “when is my birthday?” he asked. “bonus points for the zodiac sign!” “january 30th, that makes you a……” he strung out the ‘a’ to think. “an Aquarius! aquarium.” he laughed, and phil chuckled. “correct baby.” he leaned in to kiss dan, and dan kissed him, tasting of vodka and ribena. “okay, now,” phil was going to go to the next question, but dan protested. “now do mine! do mine!” dan pouted, crossing his arms. “june 11th! youre a gemini.” phil stuttered out, making dan laugh. “lucky guess.” he muttered jokingly. “next question,” phil scrolled down the page. “where did i grow up?” “im too drunk for this phil!!” he moaned out. “the north! thats all youre getting.” “well, youre not wrong.” said phil. “ill give you the point.” “what about me?” asked dan. “the south.” “ugh! exact place!” “not fair, you didnt do that for me!” “ugh, whatever.” dan pouted again. “wipe that pout off your face princess.” phil whispered, grabbing dans chin. “im just kidding philly!” dan kissed phil, getting him off guard. “okay, next,” phil asked. “whats my middle name?” “michael! these are too easy! i want harder ones. test me!” dan groaned out, and phil rolled his eyes. “okay, okay,” phil said. he scrolled down to another website, which had different questions. “how about this: where was our first date?” “EASY!” he yelled, throwing his hands up. “well, kinda,” he muttered. “its hard!” “well, tell me.” phil said suggestively, leaning closer to dan. “we first met of course at the train station,” he muttered out. “and then we went straight to your house, and, did things. does that count as a first date?” this took him way too long to say, as he was stuttering madly. “yes, it does. great job, cutie.” phil said happily and leaned in for a kiss. “okay, let me ask the question!” phil started to give him the phone, but dan refused, saying he wants go make one up. “whats the first thing you notice about me?” he asked a bashful. “your smile.” phil said simply. no explanation was needed to make dan feel all warm inside. dan covered his face and leaned on phils shoulder, grinning like mad. once he got up, he looked at phil, seeing his wonderful, eyes. “you know what mine is.” he muttered, almost inaudible. it was phils turn to blush. they lean in and kiss once again, but longer than before. when they pulled apart, dan was seeing actual stars, and couldnt even understand what was happening, completely forgot about the video. “oh my god, i love you so much.” he said in a shush tone, with phils hand on his cheek. they were only a few inches away from each other, and phil loved it. phil was exploding every inch of dans face, and so was dan. every moment phil made, it made him more dizzy and more dazed, but he didnt care. within a few moments, they both locked eyes, and somehow, both remembered they were recording. “uh, one more question,” phil stuttered out, as dan looked around for his almost empty drink. “okay, last question. what is my favorite color?” “easy, blue.” dan said, as he drank his final sips of his drink before crushed it and threw it. “hey!” phil protested, looking over at the cup. “ill pick it ip later, babe.” dan slurred out almost incoherently. “whats mine?” “easy, pink.” phil mocked. dan smiled softly, putting his arms around phils neck, phil put this hands on dans waist. “what kind of pink?” he muttered, with his sloppy grin on his face, his curly hair perfect in tack still. (which surprised phil) “pastel.” dan groaned jokingly, letting his head drop down onto phils shoulders. “oh my god, i tried to trick you!” dan yelled. “well, you didnt. 8 years of friendship pays off.” phil joked. dan put his head on phils shoulder, his head facing the camera. “can we finish? i wanna cuddle with you watch disney movies.” phil chuckled and nodded. “we’ll finish, lets do the outro.” phil tapped dan, so he can get up from his shoulder, but dan didnt move a muscle, indicating hes not moving. “okay, well, goodbye everyone, please like a subscribe to me and dans channel, and our gaming channel! love you!” he waved and awkwardly looked at dan. “i need to turn off that camera baby.” dan groaned and got up from phils shoulder. phil got up and turned off the camera, sitting right on his bed again next to dan. “can we just cuddle?” phil can tell dan was getting tired, and getting all drained. he gets like this when hes drunk, but also after recording videos. “of course, princess.” phil laid down, then wrapping his arms around dan who is not next to them. they peacefully fall asleep, with the lights on and phils snoring. *:･ﾟ✧ it was the morning, and phil is posting his premade video on lessamazingphil, just a quick vlog from florida. its taking surprisingly long to process, since its only 2 minutes, but phil didnt question it. its almost done, so phil went to go see dan, who has the worst hangover ever. “how are you baby?” asked phil, laying next to dan. “better, how bad was it?” he asked, and phil laughed. “you were fine, not as bad as a few months ago, but you were not any better.” dan groaned, and at that moment his phone dinged. he unlocked his phone to see the notification, YouTube popping up, and it was phils new video. “uh, phil.” dan said. “yes?” phil hummed. “you posted the wrong video.” “what?” phil yelled a little too loudly for dan, as he backed away and gave phil his phone in just one beat. “i uploaded our drunk boyfriend tag.” dans eyes widen. “we filmed a video? no way, i dont remember this. did we kiss?” “i was drunk too!” “well, i would keep it up.” “why?” “we already made this mistake once, lets just let them have what they want.”

#dan and phil #dan howell #phil lester #phan #phandom