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Mason - Morgan Rielly

Anonymous said: Morgan Reilly one where you have a son together from your teen years but you aren’t together and he didn’t know.

A/N: Thinking this might become a multi-part imagine, so I purposely left it open. Let me know if you think I should continue :)

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Morgan Rielly

Words: 3,422

Warnings: None

Originally posted by glovesdropped

Keep reading

Seizure Writing Guide!

****This is the seizure anon. I apologize for the wait, I was really excited to share what I knew with you, but then I realized that not only did I write way more than I expected, but I also added comments based on that story you wrote that are denoted with an asterisk at the beginning and end of each comment. I figured you could probably take them out before you actually post it because the notes are explicitly to you. If there’s any way to keep my screen name from posting with the submission that would be awesome because I’m not ready to be “outed” in the community just yet, but if it’s too difficult that’s okay (I’m only 16 and a senior in high school).

So the entire reason why I know anything about what a seizure feels like is because I have grand mal and juvenile absence epilepsy. I had my first grand mal seizure when I was 11, although my neurologist suspected that I had been having absence seizures since age 8. As I went along with my treatment, things started going awry and I developed narcolepsy with cataplexy and a slew of other problems.

Even though I’ll eventually grow out of the epilepsy, I will struggle with severe narcolepsy for the rest of my life. It has robbed me of all control over my sleep wake cycle and made my life touch and go ever since. Lately, I’ve been experiencing a flare-up, something that makes my condition much worse. They occur when I’m stressed or sick, mainly because my narcolepsy is auto immune (which is why, in my opinion, it would make good fic material, but that doesn’t concern this rn). I’ve been battling fatigue all week, and I’m sorry submitting it just slipped my mind. If you want to know more about it, talking about it helps and I can take questions. (After all, you know who I am now.)

So, once again, sorry for the wait. Guide begins below the hash mark, don’t forget to take out the asterisk paragraphs before you post. ****

This is a guide to writing seizures! If you have any knowledge/experience to add, or perhaps if I misrepresented something feel free to add your thoughts as this is for the community as a whole to use!


General Information


A seizure is an excess firing of the neurons in the brain. This misfiring can be generalized (affecting both sides of the brain) or focal (affects one side of the brain, a specific area of the brain, etc). Of the focal onset seizures, there are two sub categories, simple partial (person is fully/mostly aware) and complex partial (some changes in levels of consciousness).

Generalized onset seizures normally produce the more obvious/well known symptoms of a seizure, whereas focal onset seizures can have some pretty weird symptoms.

The categories and seizure types that fit into them are as follows:

- Convulsive (myoclonic, clonic, tonic, tonic-clonic, atonic)
- Non-convulsive (absence-typical/atypical)
- Unclassified

Simple Partial (4 categories)
- w/motor symptoms
* convulsive/jerking motions, unusual head or eye movements, numbness, tingling, a crawling feeling on your skin, etc.

- w/sensory symptoms
* feeling weird pressure or warmth, seeing/hearing/smelling/tasting weird things

- w/autonomic symptoms (autonomic = things that the body regulates automatically, like temperature)
* usually things like sweating, stomach churning, nausea, unexplained sense of fear, etc.

- w/psychic symptoms
* warped time perception, dysmnesic (deja-vu sense), strong feelings of fear, illusion, hallucinations, difficulty or discomfort swallowing

Complex Partial-
- simple partial onset then impaired consciousness
- impaired consciousness at onset
simple partial evolving into second generalized


Types of Seizures


Grand Mal (Tonic-Clonic) Seizures

This is the main type, normally consisting of 4 stages; aura, tonic, clonic, and aftermath. Common triggers include the presence of epilepsy, flashing lights, fever, and head trauma. The victim needs to be monitored during each of the four stages to ensure safety. It is also important to note that any grand mal seizure lasting more than 5 minutes can result in permanent brain damage.

From the victim’s perspective, they may/may not know what is going on depending on whether or not they’ve had a seizure before. Many epileptics are able to tell when they are about to have a seizure based on how their aura phase presents itself. The most common forms are seeing/hearing/smelling/tasting/feeling things that aren’t there. For example, smelling something burning, a metallic taste in the mouth, or possibly even strong feelings of deja vu/turning of he stomach. For non-epileptics and people having their first seizure, it may present as just a feeling of uneasiness and slight drowsiness. It depends on what area(s) of the brain is/are affected.

After the aura, the tonic phase hits and the victim loses consciousness as the body stiffens, lasting 10-25 seconds for the average person. Then the clonic phase hits and the body convulses for an average of 30-50 seconds. The clonic phase is probably the most dangerous part of the seizure because of the possibility of injury. The most important thing to remember is that you have to get the person in a position where they cannot his their head on anything, and you should NEVER try to restrain them while they’re convulsing. It can cause a lot more damage if you try and restrain them than if you just let it take its course.

The aftermath can consist of anything from nausea to a fog-like confusion, and the victim should never be left alone until the stage is completed and the person has regained consciousness and functions normally. It is not uncommon for the victim to forget their name, nor is it for the victim to forget where they are.

Morning of my first seizure I felt abnormally drowsy and I had a mild headache, but I waved it off as the result of staying up late too many nights in a row. So I went to school anyway and made it two hours into my day when suddenly I began to feel extremely heavy, like a lead blanket had been placed over me. I put my head down on my desk, but I kind of knew that I wasn’t falling asleep; it was a different feel. I woke up in the hospital, thoroughly confused, disoriented, and slightly weak. I had woken up in the ambulance, but apparently I couldn’t remember my own name. It took me about 2 days to really recover, but only about a half an hour to an hour to become mostly aware.


Petit Mal (Absence) Seizures

This is about as close to unconsciousness without actually being unconscious. Can be caused by flashing lights and hyperventilation, but they are normally unprovoked.

Characterized by a blank stare, they are well described by the phrase “time traveling” because you have no clue what goes on during them. It’s like one minute you’re there and then a second passes and you realize a minute passed and you can’t remember what you were doing before. It’s not painful, just really annoying and confusing. They last 30 seconds on average, but can last longer.

Given the elusive nature of absence seizures, it’s pretty unlikely that a quick trip to Web MD would be able to diagnose this. Petit mal seizures are extremely hard to diagnose, especially without an EEG (stands for electroencephalogram, which is a machine that measures brain waves through electrodes applied to the patient’s head). They usually cannot occur in rapid succession, but having multiple absence seizures in a day is possible.

****That is precisely why I liked your story so much! Yes, the “cloud” would be more of an aura phase because you usually can’t tell when they’re going to happen, but as the seizure are a result of possible brain damage it totally works. It was an inventive way to approach it, and I liked the idea. It just makes sense for him because he can’t control how often/intense the ‘glitching’ is.****


Other, More Obscure Types of Seizures


Tonic Seizures

Seizure where the body goes rigid. Usually happens during sleep, but can occur when awake. Generally lasts for 20 seconds or less, minimal changes in consciousness. Can happen to any age group.


Clonic Seizures

Seizure where the body convulses in specific areas or full body. Usually only found in newborns/infants.


Atonic Seizures

Nicknamed “drop seizures”, it’s a sudden loss of muscle tone either in certain areas of the body or throughout the whole body. Normally lasts less than 15 seconds and person is conscious.

To the person experiencing the episode, it’s terrifying when to have the first one because there you are, going about your daily life and then BOOM you’re on the floor and can’t move. You want to move, but even if you will yourself to move with every fiber of your being, you can’t. Then, when you can move, you may realize you broke something on the way down, or maybe you lost consciousness because you hit the corner of a table on the way down. They are very dangerous, and many people (especially children) who experience uncontrolled atonic seizures are recommended to wear helmets to reduce the risk of injury during a sudden attack.

****I haven’t had an atonic seizure before, but I have had something very, very similar called a cataplexy attack. They SUCK. I developed severe narcolepsy w/cataplexy as a result of having abnormal neural activity (epilepsy), and my first cataplexy attack was TERRIFYING. I was standing up and laughing at something, next thing I know I’m on the ground in excruciating pain because I lost control of my muscles, landed wrong, and broke my tailbone. I was conscious the whole time but I couldn’t move for a good 20 seconds, was in extreme pain, and actually thought I broke my spine (I was 13). I wouldn’t be surprised is something like this happened during an atomic seizure. The important thing to note is that cataplexy attacks are triggered by emotions, whereas atonic seizures cannot be triggered by anything.****


Myoclonic Seizures

These are seizures that are shown through rapid jerking of the extremities. It’s like severe flinching, or like when a chill runs down your back, and it’s completely involuntary. They can occur at any stage in life.

****I can see the most potential in this for writing purposes because when I had them, I would think ‘ey I’m glitching’ and I can see Jeremy and Michael freaking out over something like this. For me it usually didn’t feel like anything, but when it happened with my eyelids it was really weird (my eyelids would twitch and it Mede it hard to pay attention and sometimes got uncomfortable). It’s like muscle spasms, but without pain.****


Febrile Seizures

Not going to lie, almost forgot to add this to the list. Wasn’t sure where to put it, so naturally I just tacked it on to the end. So, febrile seizures are seizure that are triggered by fever. It mainly happens with newborns/small children, and it’s pretty much just convulsions.


Hope you enjoyed, feel free to add things!

anonymous asked:

fun story time: so a while back my cousin pissed me off and he'd been binge watching doctor who so that night while he was asleep i put the weeping angel tree topper i have at the end of the hallway you can see from his room, facing his room. I have never heard him scream louder than i did that night

Pidge: Once Matt pissed me off so much while he was sleeping I took a Sharpie and put hash marks all up his arms, like how in Doctor Who they drew them on themselves to remember whenever they saw the Silence. And when he woke up that morning he screeched so loud the dog started howling. The neighbors even asked mom if someone got murdered.

Matt: God that was terrifying, and they didn’t wash off for a whole week.

Pidge: Cause I kept redrawing them on every night.

Matt: You motherfucker.

re:THG Chapter 7 - My Favorite Chapter

A. Feeding Each Other in a way that nourished their adolescent growth towards adulthood.

This may be one of my favorite chapters in the whole book.  (But then, I feel that way about a lot of them, don’t I, lol.)  This is one of the cornerstone Everlark chapters, because it is where we see both are looking out for the other, even in the context of being opponents and even being angry.  It’s here where KATNISS decides they should train “together.”  (bring to mind “always”?) It’s here we see that both of them have been watching and in some degree of admiration of the others’ physical talents. She describes Peeta’s work as one of the rare things that brings “Beauty” to the grimness of D12 life.  THREE times, Katniss thinks or brings up Peeta saving her life with the bread.  But at the same time, we see that they BOTH have fed EACH OTHER, not just Peeta giving her bread.  He gave her carbohydrates when she was starving, what the body needs to make fat (to survive starvation).  While she supplied him with fresh meat (which apparently was harder for his family to get than she’d thought) which is protein, what’s needed to make muscle and **strengthen the body.

B. Foreshadowing of three deaths that crushed us all.

We are in Chapter 7 of Book 1… with CF and MJ to come.  ALL over this chapter is subtle cues towards who will die.  And interestingly, which deaths are necessary and which was needless.

First is Prim’s (the last death).  Needless.  There is the discussion about traps and snares, with Gale.  Gale’s a “genius” with them. (p89)  This foreshadow comes at a time when she’s talking about “putting food o the table for years,” in her de facto parent role over Prim.  KATNISS’ work and sacrifices, protect PRIM’S life is the context of the discussion in which this is mentioned.  Notice also, during training, the “snare” they learn helps hang someone “from a tree.”  The Hanging tree is about murder, in one aspect of its use in the trilogy. (And there have been arguments made that both Katniss and Peeta murder three people each during the course of the books.  In fact, pg 95 Katniss points out “BOTH of us” mastered hanging a person from a tree before they moved o.)  Prim’s death was not necessary, it did not save anyone, it was simply murder. 

Second, Finnick. Haymitch tells them to go learn to tie decent knots.  (92) Knots and rope clearly represent Finnick later. Sure enough, the very first thing they do in training is tying knots. Third, Rue.  They are literally throwing spears when SC first describes Rue to us, which is how Rue dies.  What is interesting about the emphasis on knots and spears, and why I DO think it might not simply be mere coincidence but rather foreshadowing, is the bread at lunch. Peeta dumps the basket and describes ALL the bred.  But SC, for US, describes ONLY D4 ad D11 bread.  Finnick and Rue’s district’s.  Bread nourishes.  Bread is broken.  Looking at it froma religious perspective, Jesus “broke” bread for his disciplies and take his body would be “broken” so they could live.  In contrast to Gale’s traps and snares and the pointless death of Prim, I think the fact that both Finnick and Rue are represented in this chapter as bread is a foreshadow that THEIR DEATHS, which are really both sacrificial in nature, had purpose and ultimately played tangible, immediate roles in Katiss and Peeta’s ultimate survival.  (Katniss’ treatment and care for Rue stirred the nation, but also the heart strings of those who would sponsor her and Peeeta in the rest of the games.  Finnick’s life, obviously, also was given to save Katniss and Peeta in the sewer.)

C. A minorly unfortunate change in the movie

To make merchandise, (the tribute training shirt), they all had a uniform for training in the movies.  But here we see on 93 that it wasn’t the case, and in the books it’s important because it was her and Peeta’s SOLE uniformity that set them off.  That marked them as “together,” whether they wanted it or not i that moment.  It’s a minor change, but still notable.

D.  “He runs his fingernail along the woodgrain of the table, refusing to look at me.”

While I’ve been sitting here drinking my coffee, I actually acted that out.  It’s an interesting description.  I don’t think it’s the type of action a GUY would normally do.  It draws our attention to the fact that Katniss isn’t just noting he’s refusing to look at her, she is noticing the smallest detail of his actions… it’s not his finger running over the table, it’s his finger NAIL along the WOODGRAIN.  Try doing this for yourself.  Doesn’t it feel like something you do when you’re nervous and embarrassed? It’s a line, something that helps you feel in bounds and in control.  I think it’s similar to how when I’m really really stressed out, I find myself doodling not dogs or flowers, but batches, BATCHES AND BATCHES of hash marks.  I find comfort in the lines. It also means that this 16 year old boy is contemplating the texture and pattern of the wood, appreciating the detail nature has imbued in the wood.  I dunno, it just seems like an odd sentence and feels like it’s loaded up as more than a mere descriptor to say he was ‘avoiding her.’


Finally we saw what we’d come all this way to see. Not only was the jetty above water; it looked like a glyph marooned in a desert. It was smaller than I expected it to be. Also wilier. The jetty changed shape and seemed to actively grow or shrink as we drove parallel to it, forcing us to constantly recalibrate our perception of it.

In short: We were not in hell. This was no inferno. The sky was low and soft and gray-mauve or dark mauve, as were the isolated triangular crags of mountains in the distance. ‘‘From that gyrating space emerged the possibility of the ‘Spiral Jetty,’ ’’ Smithson wrote. ‘‘My dialectics of site and nonsite whirled into an indeterminate state, where solid and liquid lost themselves in each other.’’ The lake, with its pinkish cast, was difficult to differentiate from the sky, creating the illusion that there was no horizon line. It kind of did feel like the end of the world, though not in the way I originally meant it. The world hadn’t been destroyed; it simply dissolved into a combination water-gas-solid substance that surrounded us. Salt lakes, I later learned, are also known as ‘‘terminal lakes’’ or ‘‘endorheic basins.’’ ‘‘Endo’’ (from the Ancient Greek) means ‘‘within’’ and ‘‘rheic’’ ‘‘to flow.’’ They are self-contained bodies that do not empty into any ocean. They are the self-contained end to an infinite means.

One of Smithson’s favorite words was ‘‘dialectic,’’ meaning he desired that things exist in productive tension with other things, thereby producing a ‘‘dialectical situation.’’ Our situation, vis-à-vis the jetty, clearly qualified as a dialectical one. But what was the ‘‘site’’ here, and what was the ‘‘nonsite’’? I’d been reading oodles of Smithson and still felt confused by these two words that crucially underwrote all of Smithson’s earth art.

‘‘What you are really confronted with in a nonsite is the absence of the site,’’ he said in a 1969 interview. ‘‘In a sense the nonsite is the center of the system, and the site itself is the fringe or the edge,’’ he said in a 1970 discussion with the earth artists Michael Heizer and Dennis Oppenheim. (If I occasionally tired of Smithson’s gnomic tendencies, I was not alone. Oppenheim, in the same 1970 discussion, grouched: ‘‘Why do you bother with nonsite at all? Why don’t you just designate a site?’’) But the most compelling definition, to me, is Smithson’s claim that the nonsite is ‘‘based on my experience of the site.’’ The nonsite is a drawing or a sculpture or a box containing slate from a quarry. It is the collaborative transmission, or so I like to think, that results when a geographical landscape moves through or commingles with a figurative, human one.

Sites and nonsites, in other words, involve the equal interplay of consciousness and matter. Which again made me think about the crows and what had thus far shaped their interior landscapes, the ones that might come to play (or interplay) on this trip, as well as on the vaster metaphorical trip that eventually their lives would comprise. How might they contain their interior landscape — their evolving selves, basically — and how will they productively, without becoming overwhelmed (or without imposing preconceptions that close down possibilities), deal with the deluge of feeling and information that exists both within a person and without?

In his essay ‘‘The Spiral Jetty,’’ Smithson included a list of materials a person encountered as she walked from the center of the jetty. He demarcated 20 directional points (North, North by East, etc.) The materials view from each point was the same:

Mud, salt crystals, rock, water.

Mud, salt crystals, rock, water.

The same materials, listed 20 times, the stack of repeated words gesturing toward sedimentary time layers while also, in replicating the many hash marks on a compass, implying the unseen presence of a circle.

Smithson completed ‘‘Spiral Jetty’’ in 1970. He died in Texas in 1973, while aerially surveying the artificial lake area where he hoped to build his ‘‘Amarillo Ramp.’’ He hired a plane, a pilot and a photographer. The plane crashed. All three were killed. The artificial lake is dry now. The ramp, completed after his death by his wife and friends, is eroding. The crash site — or maybe it is a nonsite — is a few hundred yards away.

We parked in the dirt lot. We scrambled down the rocky bank onto the flats. The push-pull of negative/positive space made the jetty seem even more kinetically alive and like the storm its shape resembled, one that messed with the intuitive logic of water behavior. The land we’d driven over was filling up with water, while the lake appeared to be emptying of it.

We walked the spiral many times; we developed individual jetty styles and jetty rules. The crows cut across the puddled sand between the concentric rings, but I did not, I never did that, I would never do that. I walked the line, or rather, the curve. Later we flung off onto the flats. My husband made minijetties with black rocks he found in the sand. The jetty, he said, was spawning.

We returned to the jetty and walked it again. Was it an ancient ruin? Was it the beginning of a new civilization? Was it an example of, as Rainer Maria Rilke wrote, ‘‘the revision of categories, where something past comes again, as though out of the future?’’ In always being both, it encouraged temporal slippage. We were not looking at the past or the future; we were in the middle of time. We were at the point of dislocation around which salt crystals spiraled upward like a staircase as they grew. The crows wrote their names on the sand, and because there was no rising tide — no ocean’s clock — their names would possibly never be erased.

Smithson, in his 1966 essay ‘‘Entropy and the New Monuments,’’ mentions a recent electrical blackout in the Northeast. ‘‘Far from creating a mood of dread,’’ he wrote, ‘‘the power failure created a mood of euphoria. An almost cosmic joy swept over the darkened cities.’’ (When Smithson wrote this, a far more economically destitute New York had yet to experience the subsequent 1977 blackout, the violent and anarchic results of which would probably not be qualified as expressions of ‘‘cosmic joy.’’) When we are in Maine, we often lose our power, and yes, the promise of darkness inspires glee. I gleefully fill the tub with water and the lamps with oil and make sleeping situations nearer to the woodstove. I create in our domestic interior a much more active and dynamic conversation with the exterior, that thing we are so often unaffected by, or simply trying, with our house, to keep out. And while this skill set has mostly been of use in places where the power lines are aboveground, sagging, even in good weather, from tilted pole to tilted pole, the underground electricals of New York are now equally menaced by rising (and descending, into the works) water. My gleeful preparations are increasingly applicable to many more situations, and by that possibility I feel energized. Not because I crave drama or instability, but because I am rendered, in a kind of trippy and exhilarating way, both indispensable and irrelevant.

At the jetty I became entirely irrelevant, and the result was even more exhilarating. Smithson, when searching for a framework with which to explore both limits and limitlessness, found useful the concept of entropy, i.e., the second law of thermodynamics. Entropy proved intriguing to him because, as he understood it, energy was ‘‘more easily lost than obtained’’ and thus, ‘‘in the ultimate future the whole universe will burn out and be transformed into an all-encompassing sameness.’’ I experienced that ultimate future. I experienced what the planet would be like when we were, every one of us, gone. I had, before our visit, worried not only about my crows but also about the loneliness of a planet that might someday have no one to see it, walk through it, feel intense things because of it. That is what made my brain and my heart fold in on themselves. Cities, yes, gone; ice caps, gone; but the beauty of the planet routed through a human consciousness, that’s what I couldn’t comprehend vanishing. This was what, more than my own particular death, I’d despaired at. But on the jetty, I understood what Smithson intuited so long ago in Rome: Beauty did not need us.

‘‘You don’t have to have existence to exist,’’ Smithson said.

If there were a sun, it would have been setting. As the sky grew subtly pinker and purpler, other cars appeared: two families, a lone woman and a couple. Some walked the jetty, but others struck out directly for the invisible horizon and soon became tiny black marks floating in the middle of the same-color distance. The young couple stood on the flats and hugged and kissed. The lone woman neatened the jetty; she found errant rocks and threw them back within the boundaries, redarkening its outline.

Back in the parking lot, as the rain finally started (it had been threatening), we talked to some of these people. All of them were longtime residents in the area. The jetty-neatener said: ‘‘I’ve never been here before. Today just felt like the day.’’

The Art at the End of the World

365 Day Headcanon Challenge

Day 2: Scars

Yondu’s body is a road map of scars. The horror story that was his youth, suffering at the hands of his keepers. The most noticeable is the jagged scar that runs from the top of his head, down his spine between his shoulders. An ugly reminder of the day they took his crest from him. It’s perhaps the single scar he doesn’t care to explain. Basically don’t ask about it, don’t let him catch you staring at it, don’t /think/ about it. 

Yondu sports a number of hash marked scars on the right side of his head and face. He doesn’t remember receiving these, but the chances are they were deliberately made. The pattern is too clean and precise to be an accident. He assumes that he received them from a Kree slaver. An effort to break him. 

His right shoulder is a myriad of puckered, ragged marks from his time in the arena. If prompted he could easily describe the events that led to each one. He has a number of scars from his time with Stakars crew that litter across his torso too. One across his belly almost from hip to opposite rib from an attempt for the bounty on his head that nearly got him. 

He has lash marks from a whip that criss cross across his back and shoulders and a mark branded at the base of his neck that identified him as a Kree Slave. That covers most of them.

anonymous asked:

As someone who used to adore being part of the ARMY fandom, I've also found it too much sometimes. My question is have you ever worried that NCT's fandom might grow as big and therefore, as toxic in the future?

It’s definitely possible that this can happen to the NCT fandom. But already we’ve done one better than army’s. We didn’t have a twitter hash tag for when Mark turned 18 that thousands of fans participating in and said shit, it was actually fairly peaceful. And we may complain as a fandom about Minor smut but we have nowhere near as much as the bts fandom did when Bts maknae was 16/17. In fact, I bet you can still find the smut as I didn’t see anyone reporting or seeing the issue back in the day.

I’m not saying we’re a better fandom, just that it’s more peaceful. It’s possible we can end up the same as the Bts fandom but I guess I’m just hoping we don’t tbh. I love NCT more than any group I ever have. And I’ve never had a bias like Doyoung. If another fandom is ruined for me,I will be pissed which is why I’m so big of calling out issues so we don’t turn too toxic as a fandom 💕🌹

I have a few things to say about this:  

1) Unintelligible screaming 

2) Dead

3) That was not Carol’s gun that Daryl had with the hash-marks.  It was his.

4) Is this a trap?  Why are we getting so many nice things?  Also, why am I so paranoid?

I am looking for locations for my thesis film and someone told me to look into the Liberty Hotel, which is this hotel in Boston that is a renovated prison

I looked at their website and this hotel has the most evil energy you could imagine…like, it is an extremely luxury hotel built on the site of all this injustice and suffering, which is bad enough, but in addition everything in it is also prison themed as though that’s a totally normal and acceptable theme for a hotel

For my last post at my current age, have the rough beginning of the most painful fanfic idea I’ve ever had.

Warnings: Death, dying, grief, but it’s still me.  I promise it’ll all work out in the end.  It’ll just be a while before we get there.

Every time he changed, he lost himself for a minute.

He didn’t talk about it, he didn’t really like to think about it.  But every time he changed, for a minute, for an eternity of a minute, DJ Stark wasn’t anything.  He wasn’t a bot.  He wasn’t a human.  He was just a fragment of memory, a force of will, a consciousness without form, and it was at once the best and worst thing he could do.

Because for a moment, he had complete control over his existence.

It was heady and terrifying and foreign and familiar, all at once, and when it was over and done, a physical form dragged him back to earth. Gave him weight.  Gave him boundaries.  Gave him rules to follow and limitations to try to overcome.  

He missed that instant of being weightless.  Especially when he woke up with a pounding ache behind his temples and a sour stomach.

Keep reading

Ficlet (SPN 12x09 Coda)

Day 1

“Cas, man, I hope you’re getting this, ‘cause me and Sam are in it now. Military took us. Locked us up and threw away the goddamn key. They’re gonna keep us here 'til we talk, but you and I both know, that ain’t gonna happen. Don’t know where we are, but if you get any ideas… let us know.”

Day 5

“Cas, hey, still nothing. They got this place locked down. All I found is a screw to count the days from when they bring us meals. For being called a traitor, guess they don’t feed us too bad. They’re good at not dropping location hints, but I’ll get something outta them eventually. You know me.”

Day 10

“It’s getting hard, Cas. Hope you at least got your ears on, 'cause the only thing keeping me from singing showtunes or some shit is praying to you and knowing you’re hearing it. It’s almost like the world is disappearing. The only voice I ever hear is the dude on rounds bringing us food and saying, 'chow time.’ That’s it. No other sounds except dripping water sometimes.”

Day 15

“Hey, Cas, you know, I remember Hell. I remember a lot about it. The sounds, smells, feelings, all of it. And this… this is worse. Never thought I’d say that. But… I dunno, there was always something to do in Hell, but there’s nothing here besides scraping another hash mark on the wall and eating whatever slop they give us. I’m freaking bored. More than that, though. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but it’s the waiting for nothing that’s getting to me. A whole life of drawing on the wall, eating bologna sandwiches, and silence. Dunno how long I can do it.”

Day 20

“Cas… this is… this sucks. All I can do is think. These assholes aren’t gonna slip up. They’re not gonna come in and say anything to give themselves away. There’s no way out of the cell, even for me. All my ideas are just getting worse. I’m not asking you to swoop in blind since I don’t know where we are, but… I’m… I guess I just want you to know I’m still here.”

Day 30

“Still here, Cas. I’m tired of bologna. I’m tired of everything. Can feel it in my bones. I sleep a lot, and I’m still so fucking tired. But I’m still here.”

Day 40

“Sorry I haven’t been praying to you much, Cas. Part of me feels like a broken record every day. The rest of me… well, I’m just praying to tell you I got a plan. It’s a bad one, but I can’t stay in here to die quiet. I can’t. You get that, right? I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Day 44


How come no one talks about Ron Weasely’s scars? I know he has them after all he had been through with Harry and Hermione. And even with wizard technology I still imagine him with scars.

-Bite mark shaped on his leg from Serious

-Long silvery scars twining up his arms from the brain monsters in the ministry of magic.

-A nebula spiral shaped scar on his upper bicep from Splinching.

-Innumerable small hash marks up and down his body from all the times he was hit with debris or a stray spell during the Battle of Hogwarts.

-And although not a scar, I would imagine that using polyjuice potion so many times would have an effect on Ronald, leaving him with a grey/silver streak in his hair right by the brow.


Chevy Introduces Camaro Accessories & Performance Parts

As the all-new Gen Six Camaro rolls into showrooms this fall, Chevrolet is matching its introduction with accessories and performance parts that enable greater personalization and driving fun.

From performance air intake and exhaust, to lowering kits, ground-effects packages, spoilers and even performance Brembo brake systems, the lineup is designed to offer customers choices for distinguishing their new Camaros on the street and making the most of the cars’ performance capabilities.

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