squatted house

3

“My name’s Happy. My friends gave me the name. My birth name is Christian, but I don’t go by it at all. I just hitched a ride from Idaho with some people coming back from Rainbow Gathering. Before Idaho, my friend Dumpster Baby and I hopped a freight train from Utah. We spent four hours in a dumpster with a tarp over us while it just rained and rained on us before we left. Now I’m waiting for my friend Rat Boy to come meet up with me. He’s never been to Portland before so he’s off wandering. We might see if we can find a punk show to go to tonight, and then we have a squat house we’re going to crash at.” 

“How is hopping freight trains different than hitchhiking?” 

“Well for better or worse, you’re usually you’re alone for 24 hours on a train. Sometimes the cops bust you. I’ve been busted before. I met some kids that wanted to hop a train and had never done it so I took ‘em. Usually you’re supposed to throw your pack first and then kind of start running before you jump, otherwise you’ll just fall. I watched ‘em do it and they both just rolled. But they were ok. A few cuts and the worst thing was one guy got a bruised knee.” 

“How did you start off this life of wandering?” 

“I grew up in LA, in not the best of neighborhoods. I was used to always hanging on the streets. Then when I was 15 or 16 some friends of mine told me about a squat house in another city and we hopped a train and went there. I love the community of it, kids all helping each other out. There’s even a web forum where people will tell each other where to stay, who to look out for, or a place where you can get fed and things like that.”

“It sounds like such an adventure! I wish I could come take photos of it all.”

“I had a bunch of photos on my phone, but I dropped it on the tracks once, and that was the end of that. It’s not all great though. A lot of kids I know are on meth and I have a friend who got Hep C from sharing needles. Not me, I’m a straight edge. That’s what these tattoos are about.” He held out his hands.

“What about the one on your face?”

“My family is indigenous and my great grandfather completely tried to deny and hide his heritage. And then his son, my grandfather, tried to embrace it. I’d seen a photo of him with these markings, so I had a friend tattoo it on me.” 

“What does it represent?” 

“I’m not sure. My family doesn’t even know what tribe. But I wanted to embrace my heritage.”

anonymous asked:

For the send a number fic thing: Bucky/Steve with number 1: soulmates AU. Please? :)

He moves through the museum slowly, keeping pace with tourists and school groups, head down and face hidden under the baseball cap he stole from a sidewalk stall three blocks away. His left arm is hidden under long sleeves, hand tucked into his pocket. There is no name on his wrist. The metal plates are smooth and bare. Assets do not have soulmates.

The Captain is everywhere. His face, fixed in a wide grin in vividly colored posters, solemn and tired in black and white footage, is on every wall. When he turns away, the Captain’s head seems to turn in the edge of his vision. He feels the Captain’s eyes on the back of his neck.

Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You’re my friend. You–

On the helicarrier, the Captain had peeled back the sleeve of his battered uniform to reveal the words on his left wrist. The handwriting had been neat cursive, James Buchanan Barnes still crisp and clear, seventy years after the name should have blurred into illegibility after Sergeant Barnes’ death.

Sergeant Barnes is on the walls, too. Not as often as the Captain, not centered in the photographs, but he looks out just the same. There is a clip of Sergeant Barnes and the Captain laughing, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders, that he watches over and over until the pressure of standing still becomes too much, and he must drift with the crowd.

Sergeant Barnes had a left arm of flesh and bone. Sergeant Barnes had a name on his wrist.

One of the final exhibition cases in the museum contains a display of two photographs: two wrists, the skin washed out to white, the names in solid black. James Buchanan Barnes. And next to the Captain’s wrist, the Sergeant’s, with another name. Steven Grant Rogers.

He looks at the names, his own reflection hanging in the glass above the photos. His face is mirrored on the walls around him, Sergeant Barnes looking back at him. He balls his left hand in his pocket so he won’t take it out to double check, won’t trace over his blank metal wrist looking for words that aren’t there. Assets do not have soulmates.

When he leaves the museum, he takes one of the discarded name tags a visitor has left on the floor. He picks up a pen off the sidewalk and puts it in his pocket. He doesn’t take his left hand out of his pocket. He keeps walking.

Later that night, in the privacy of his squat house, he takes the pen and carefully, with a hand that only shakes a little, writes Steven Grant Rogers  across the name tag. He folds the edges back so the tag is slightly smaller than one of the broad plates of his wrist, so the paper will not catch and tear as the plates shift with his movement.

He peels off the plastic backing and smooths the tag over his wrist, tracing the letters again and again, Steven Grant Rogers, as he lies in the dark and waits for sleep to come.

It baffles me how some people didn’t realize that Neil has indeed killed people even before joining the Foxes.

Like, guys, when his mom died he didn’t just go “Oh, you know what could be fun to do with her body?”. He knew how to get rid of the corpse and the traces in the car so that it wouldn’t be identifiable and that his father’s people would have trouble finding them. He didn’t think that out of nowhere, he knew exactly what to do. And he did while in shock because his mom had died, which means it was ingrained enough in him that he could do it in autopilot. Also, he slept with a gun under his pillow. What, did you believe he never used it? He has a gunshot wound on himself which means he was in the middle of a fire at least once. Do you think he didn’t fire back? That he fired and always missed the mark?

Neil and Mary were on the run from a mobster and professional killer. 

They did bad things that did not stop at occasional stealing and squatting in empty houses. 

They did what they had to in order to survive and that does not make them monsters like Nathan was, but it doesn’t make them good people either.

I was with a few friends and I said, “Wouldn’t it be wild if like, we just squatted in someone’s house for the night, just to see if we can get away with it,” so we did, and we got away with it. I loved the adrenaline rush so much I wanted to keep doing it, but my friends wanted no part of it any more. So I continue alone. Everything was good until I heard the owners come home. The owners were three big, buff drug dealers, I tried to sneak out unnoticed, considering I didn’t think they would believe me if I told them why I was there. So, I snuck around the first two but got discovered by the third. Expecting the worst, I cringed and closed my eyes, when I opened them, it was me and drug dealer #3 very much in love. It was a deep love, so deep we decided to run away together. As we were on our way to our new life, he picked me up like a bride and started carrying me to his truck. Right before getting in, I saw drug dealer # 1 and 2 circle in I panicked and looked at #3 right as he was putting a rag of chloroform over my mouth and then I woke up.

WITH YOU FROM DUSK ‘TIL DAWN

a/n: requested by @pennywisecrack. a fic where the reader finds pennywise after the fight with bev and the other losers which results in him being injured. I did hc’s for this but I ADORED writing this fic. I fucking love angst man. thank you so much for sending this in my sweet, I hope you enjoy! 

warnings: mentions of blood and injury, mild eye horror ? 

Wrapping your favourite scarf around your neck, jamming a wool beanie onto your head and popping your keys in your jacket pocket, you begin the lengthy walk from your home to the one of your lover. That’s if you could even call it a home, it was the burnt, abandoned ruins at Neibolt street where he sometimes took his rest but you knew his real home was the sewers; where he could travel at a faster pace without the worry of being seen. There was a spring in your step as you cut through fields and tip-toed over shallow streams to get to your destination faster, eager to see your love. 

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Old Flames, New Sparks - Part 2: Like Old Times

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Danneel Harris, Jensen Ackles, Keith (omc - mentioned) Roxanne (ofc - mentioned), Y/N’s family (mentioned)    

Pairing: Danneel x Reader (past), Danneel x Jensen

Warnings: sucky exes, family sucks sometimes.   

Word Count: 2000ish

A/N: You have no idea how long I have been wanting to write a series like this. For once it is not all completely planned out and I am not sure where this ride is gonna take us. I do know that I love Jensen and Danneel to pieces and I am gonna make sure there is a happy ending in this for them somehow.

This series is written for my free square in @spnpolybingo

Thanks to my amazing lil sis @mysupernaturalfics for betaing this series for me.

MASTERLIST

You had barely parked the car when you saw her. She was as breathtaking as ever with that huge smile on her face and curly locks framing her features. You just about managed to get out of the car before she was down the stairs, across the driveway and had her arms wrapped around you.

“I missed you so much,” she laughed as the two of you clung to each other. You had forgotten just how right it felt. You didn’t have to pretend with her. With her you were just Y/N and no matter what you said or did, you knew Danneel would never judge you or make fun of you for it. You were best friends first. You always had been and always would be. Whatever else you were feeling you could push aside. She was happy and engaged. All you really needed was to be around her anyway. You needed space to breath and remember who you really were. Not who your family wanted you to be or who Keith had tried to turn you into. You could do that with her.

“I missed you too,” you laughed, “but now I kinda miss breathing too.”

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Invisible, Chapter Three

Summary: Cursed as a child, you have lived your entire life invisible and alone. When deaths start happening in your town, the Winchesters come rolling in to investigate. What will happen when Dean is the first one who has been able to see you since you were a kid? Will Sam believe that you’re real? Will Dean believe you when you tell him you haven’t killed anyone? And why, after all of this time, is Dean Winchester the only one who can see you?

Invisible Masterlist - Previous Chapter

A/N: And so the drama begins…

word count: ~1550

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nytimes.com
Anarchists Fill Services Void Left by Faltering Greek Governance
Anarchist groups are taking matters into their own hands after years of austerity policies and a refugee crisis have undermined the Greek government.
By Niki Kitsantonis

“We want people to fight back, in all ways, from taking care of refugees to burning banks and Parliament,” said Mr. Sagris, the member of Void Network and the Embros theater group, which raises money to fund squats housing refugees. “Anarchists use all tactics, violent and nonviolent.”

“Anarchists obviously cannot form a political party,” said Spiros Dapergolas, 45, a graphic designer who belongs to Rouvikonas. “But we have our own means to enter the political center,” he said. “We want to get bigger.”

The group’s long-term aim is “militant unionism,” Mr. Dapergolas said. But, he conceded, it is not easy for people to organize themselves. In the meantime, he said, “what Rouvikonas is doing can be done by anyone.”

“When I was 16 my best friend lived across the street from a house that was for sale. Her mom told me that there was an old man that lived there and would call out racial slurs to my friend when she walked by his house on her way to school. He would also yell at the other neighbors, especially children playing in their front lawns or walking in the neighborhood. He eventually died and he had no family to claim his things, so volunteers had to clear his house. In the upstairs room they found a secret door that led to a little room. In the room they found videos and pictures of naked children. There were also journals that he kept that had overall crazy shit written in them. There was writing all over the walls; one of the most notable writings was “make the voices stop." 

After hearing this story I was really curious about the house. I would walk passed it on the way to my friend’s and I swear the vertical blinds in the upstairs room would start to sway by themselves. One time I walked up the driveway and heard a big bang in the garage. Freaking out, I ran over to my friend’s and told her. 

Well, one summer’s day we were really bored and decided to check the house out. When we came up the driveway, the blinds started moving again. Naturally, I was very curious so I suggested that we check out the backyard to see if anyone was squatting in the house. This house had big windows in the back of it and when you looked in, you could see through the living room, through the front windows, and into the front lawn. 

I leaned forward with my hands on the window and peered in. Standing in the front lawn was a woman, in the same stance that I was in, looking at me. The weird thing was, was that I couldn’t see her face. I thought it was someone that saw us go into the backyard but I had this really sick feeling in my stomach. I immediately grabbed my friend and we ran to the front. When we got there, I looked down all of the streets. No cars were driving away, no one was walking away from the house and the lady wasn’t there. I went home after that, a little confused and still feeling a bit sick. I went over to my friend’s house the next day and described the woman I saw to her mother. I said that she had long black hair, down to her waist. And although her face was blurry, she had bright red lipstick on. She was wearing a tracksuit, but one that looked from the 1980s, old school Nike running shoes and all. 

My mom’s friend thought that was strange, as that didn’t fit a description of any woman she had ever seen running in the area. A few days after I told her what I saw, I went back to my friend’s. She sat me down right when I got there and told me she had a talk with a neighbor that had been living in the neighborhood for decades. Somehow they got to talking about the old man and how it was so creepy what people found. The old neighbor told her that she thought the old man went insane because of the history of the house. Not knowing the history, my friend’s mom inquired. 

Turns out there was a young couple living there in the 80s. The wife had long black hair down to her waist and always wore makeup even when she was in her tracksuit running throughout the neighborhood. Her husband confessed to killing her but refused to tell anyone where he hid the body. She has yet to be found. For the rest of that summer, while lying in bed trying to sleep, I would hear a woman crying. I would check my mother and my sisters who were always sleeping and yet the crying continued. I’m not a huge believer in the paranormal but I have absolutely no explanation for this. Even thinking about it gives me the chills.”

By: katiejayc (What are the creepiest, scariest stories (real or not) you’ve ever heard?)

Persuasion

Pairing: soulless!Sam x reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: SMUT, smut, oh yeah, and smut; oral (male and female receiving), no condom (wrap it before you tap it!)

Summary: Imagine catching Sam staring at you as you try to clean your weapons

A/N: IM SO SORRY I suck at summaries!! anyways, this was meant to be a drabble but I got carried away and this ended up being a one shot lol. I didn’t get a beta to read this, so it might have some errors, just ignore them. Enjoy!

LEAVING COMMENTS ALONG WITH A REBLOG IS NICE. EVEN IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO REBLOG, LEAVE FEEDBACK. EVERYTHING IS APPRECIATED.

gif below the cut!

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anaxiphilia (pt. 5)

Originally posted by agustd

Characters: Reader x Yoongi, appearances by all of Bangtan (probably)
Genre: eventually..all of them? badboy!yoongi
previous | masterlist | next

“Finally!” Yoongi exclaimed as my house came into view. “It seemed like time was getting slower and you were getting heavier. I thought we’d never make it back.”

“I told you I would walk…” I said for the billionth time in the last 15 minutes rolling my eyes.

“Shh, why can’t you just enjoy this moment in my arms?”

“How am I supposed to enjoy this moment when you keep complaining?” I snorted in disbelief.

“Are you saying you would enjoy being in my arms if I wasn’t complaining then?”

“What? No! Um I-” I stuttered making Yoongi chuckle. I gently hit the back of his shoulder attempting to stop his laughter, which only resulted in him laughing even harder.

As we approached the front steps of my house he squatted to put me down gently and then slowly rose again to his full height. I watched as he stretched out his sore limbs and groan as he cracked some aching joints. He was going to be sore because of my clumsiness; I bit my lip feeling extremely guilty. I cleared my throat making him glance at me.

“Um, would you like to come inside?” I stuttered out, a devious smirk appeared on Yoongi’s lips as the blood rush to my cheeks.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t think you were that forward.” My eyes widened as I realized he had mistaken my words.

“No, I just mean because you helped me so much I should at least thank you-“ I tried once again but my words only made his smirk grow wider.

“I know you really want to thank me but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet,” Yoongi said tapping his chin, “you should at least let me take you out sometime and then you can thank me all night long.” 

“Oh God,” I buried my face in my hands in embarrassment. Yoongi chuckled and pulled my hands away from my face. I looked my feet trying to stop the blood from rushing to my cheeks. Yoongi almost unconsciously reached towards me. He stroked my reddened cheek with the back of his hand making me look up at him, shocked by the gentleness of his touch. My gaze seemed to break him out of his trance and he pulled his hand back instantly. He reached to rub the back of his neck almost as if he was embarrassed by his actions.

“Uh, that walk actually made me really thirsty, I could use some water right now.” Yoongi said clearing his throat.

“Oh yeah sure, come inside,” As I turned around to unlock my house, I silently prayed that no one was home, the last thing I wanted to do was explain this situation to my parents or my brother.

“I’m home,” I called out and listened for a response. I sighed in relief when no one replied. I walked over the threshold and took off my shoes. I glanced up to see Yoongi looking around my house as he shrugged off his shoes. He put his hands in his pockets, still gazing at the giant chandelier that hung over our heads.

“Yeah, my parents went a little over board with that thing,” I said, guessing his thoughts were revolving around the obvious.

“Oh, that thing?” Yoongi said point at the chandelier; I nodded looking at him curiously.

“No, I was just trying to guess where your room was,” he smirked at me.

“You’re never going to find out,” I scoff.

“One day you’ll be leading me there, sweetheart.” Yoongi said making me roll my eyes however his comments still made my cheeks redden.

“You can wait in the study while I get your water,” I said leading the way. As I opened the door to the study his mouth dropped open.

“This isn’t a study, this is a library.” He said looking at the shelves of books incased in the room.

“My family has a thing for old, dusty books.” I shrug, walking towards the desk. I looked up at him and pulled the chair out for him to sit down, “have a seat.”

He groaned loudly making me glance up in surprise.

“It’s really fucking frustrating that you don’t even know how inviting you are when you’re saying that.” Yoongi said, rubbing the back of his neck making my cheeks redden.

“Min Yoongi, you keep saying comments like that and I’ll kick you out before you can even get that glass of water.” I said shocking both him and myself.

“Yes Ma’am,” he mock saluted, and sat down on the chair without another word. I smirked at his silence, feeling accomplished. I had finally gotten the last word.

I walked towards the kitchen and poured a glass of water when suddenly I heard loud cursing and shouting. I rushed towards the study only to see my older brother, Jin holding Yoongi by the collar of his shirt ready to punch him.

“How the fuck did you get inside, you bastard?!”  His anger seemed to only make Yoongi laugh as he shoved Jin off him making Jin stumble against the shelf.

“Jin what’re you doing?!” I gasped, walking towards both of them standing in front of Yoongi, almost protectively. Jin looked back and forth between Yoongi and me.

“What am I doing? What the fuck are you doing [y/n]?!” Jin said pointing an accusing finger at me. “Why are you defending this piece of shi-“

“Jin, should you really be talking like that in front of your little sister.” Yoongi said, I could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Shut the fuck up, before I fucking make you.” Jin said walking towards Yoongi menacingly, it was almost as if he had forgotten that I was standing in between them. I pushed Jin away from us.

“Stop it Jin!” I said my voice cracking, I had never seen this side of my older brother before, and it was frightening.

“[y/n],” Jin started, his voice returning to his usual calm tone.

“I don’t want to hear it right now.” I said grabbing Yoongi’s hand and leading him out of the house. I took a shuddering deep breath and looked at Yoongi. He was analyzing me calmly with his hands in his pocket.

“What the hell was that about?” I asked.

“I didn’t know you were related to Kim Seokjin,” Yoongi shrugged, “We don’t get along. “

“Yes, I can see that,” I scoffed at him, “Why don’t you get along?”

Yoongi continued to study my behaviour silently. I raised my eyebrow at him urging him to answer but he simply took a deep breath and looked towards the sky.

“Yoongi,” I said impatiently, I glared at him. But he seemed to be avoiding my gaze. 

“It’s a secret [y/n].” Yoongi replied not looking at me.

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” I said walking forward and grabbing a hold of his face forcing him to stare at me, just like he had done to me previously on multiple occasions. As our gazes met, I felt the heat rush through my body, it felt like my whole being had awakened, like I was on fire.

“You always tell me to look at you when I’m talking to you so right now why are you the one avoiding my gaze?” I asked.

“Because for some reason you make me want to tell you all my secrets.” Yoongi said, his piercing gaze unwavering as he spoke.

“Do you have a lot of those? Secrets?” I asked softly, he smirked back at me.

“You’ve heard of me reputation, do you think I have any shortage of secrets?” He scoffed.

“That makes me want to know them even more…” I said, the pads of my thumbs unconsciously stroked the side of his cheeks.

“You shouldn’t get involved with me, sweetheart. I’m not good for you.” Yoongi said grasping my wrists gently and detaching them from his face. His gaze unwavering as he placed a silent kiss on the inside of my right wrist.

“Get the fuck away from her, you bastard!” Jin said suddenly pulled me away from Yoongi’s reach placing me behind him protectively. Before I could blink, he had lunged forward punching Yoongi in the jaw. The force of his blow had caused Yoongi fall on the ground on his hands and knees. 

“Yoongi!” I screamed, going towards him but Yoongi just lifted his hand making me freeze. He rolled his shoulders backwards and climbed to his feet. Yoongi calmly picked up the hat that had blown off his head and dusted it off. As pushed his hair back and put the hat back on backwards he looked at Jin, his gaze smoldering. The blood that Jin’s blow had caused to escape from him spilled through the side of his mouth. I had never seen anyone look so wild, so vicious. It was as if a demon had taken over his body. Yoongi spit the blood out and smirked at Jin.

“Is that all you got pretty boy?”


A/N: Funfact, this chapter actually got deleted an hour ago when my macbook crashed but it turned out gr88888, it was worth the wait right?

Birthing home

Alone in my kitchen. 41week pregnant, been in labor for 8hours. Still no baby. Pushing the baby out even if my body is not fully ready. This baby needs to come out. I walk around the house. I squat. You come back from work and I’m on all four on the floor trying to give birth. You freak out. You’ve been anxious about the birth since 4weeks. We decided that you were going to help me give birth. You and me, alone at home.

You insert two fingers in my pussy to check my cervix. “You’re doing amazing babe” I moan very loud on the floor. I push a little. “Don’t push babe!” I stop. You help me stand back up. We move my hips in circle together. You get down to my belly. “Come on princess, come out.” I walk to our bed. I lean on it. You press in my back to relief the pressure. I push really hard. The water breaks and I start to feel the baby in the birth canal. I pant and moan again. Baby is finally moving out. “Push babe push.” I push hard. I feel the head move down in me. You push you fingers in me again. “I feel the head hun, push it for me.” I push, you feel my body work the head moves down. I push a little more. You see a peak of the hairy head. “Push. Her head is coming out of your vagina baby.” I push really hard. In one push her head pops out. “Aw, she’s here babe. She’s so cute. ” I touch the head. I feel her hair. I start pushing again. You run in the bathroom to get towels. When you come back, you run just in time. She falls in your arms.