truck on a hill

Seven Hills Road

By Ellicott City, Maryland (which already has a reputation for being a city full of hauntings) there is a road known colloquially as Seven Hills Road. This road has a history of a very peculiar haunting, but also has a history of many unfortunate car accidents. It is said that if a person drives down this road and crests the seventh hill at midnight, a black truck will mysteriously appear and come speeding towards you and chase you. There are many stories to go along with this myth from residents and visitors. Many fatal car accidents have occurred on this road, which is actually called College Avenue. Whether or not a the demon truck actually exists, “hill-hopping” itself was a popular thrill for teenagers and young adults. They would speed up and down the road, a very dangerous activity as the road has many twists and blind spots, and the speed limit is or was 25 mph. Many people have lost their lives on this dangerous road this way.

Sitting in the grass on that hilltop the grass reached just above the top of my head, dipping down in the breeze to caress shoulders and tickle my nose. Engrossed in my book and the entrancing landscape of endlessly rolling hills and rolling clouds I forgot entirely one very important thing: I am allergic to grass. (it was a very itchy, sneezy, regretful dash back to the truck)

anonymous asked:

If you're still doing headcannons, first four protagonist of silent hill series? Plus Claudia and Eileen if you want. Thanks!

OH MAN THAT’S A LOT but let’s do this.

Headcanon A: Harry Mason was a practicing Christian prior to the events of Silent Hill– after, he spent a number of years struggling to reconcile his faith with everything that he’d witnessed. Eventually, he somewhat made peace with it, but it was never fully the same afterwards.
Headcanon B: Harry was a nonfiction/true crime author prior to Silent Hill. Then, in an attempt to cope, he wrote one horror novel under a pseudonym, never intending to write another one. Just one. NATURALLY It was a massive hit and publishing houses proceeded to bother him incessantly to do more like it. He occasionally would joke to Heather that half the reason they changed names and kept moving around was to make it harder for his agent to harass him.
Headcanon C: Harry frequently read to Heather as a child, and the most frequent choice was Watership Down. Harry always made a point of placing EXTRA special emphasis on the creation myth, and Frith’s instructions for El-ah-rairah: “All the world shall be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies. And when they catch you, they will kill you. But first, they must catch you. Digger, listener, runner, Prince with a swift warning. Be cunning, and full of tricks. And your people shall never die.”
It was his way of, without frightening her, trying to prepare her for the certain inevitability that the Order was going to catch up with them eventually.

Headcanon A: James has a very, very hard time interpreting and responding to social cues. Getting confused or defensive when misinterpreted is part of the reason he comes off as ‘surly’– it’s easier to come off as antisocial than face anger or ridicule after saying something unintentionally rude, which happened A Lot ™ when he was growing up.
Headcanon B: A defining moment in his and Mary’s early relationship was him finally telling her about his dad’s creepy umbilical-cord box and them going “OH MY GOD?!” “I KNOW!!” about it back and forth for a solid ten minutes while sitting in a parked car.
Headcanon C: Before Mary got sick, James was over-the-moon excited about being a father someday. They both took it for granted that it was definitely going to happen. Spoilers: it didn’t.

Headcanon A: As much as Heather always loved her father, as a teenager she started to resent his smothering, overprotective tendencies (as well as the fact that they constantly moved around) and started openly acting out– smoking, drinking, shoplifting, partying, and getting in fights. 
Headcanon B:  On at least one occasion after Silent Hill 3, Heather scared the shit out of some poor door-to-door religious pamphlet people by wrenching the door open with her rifle in hand and yelling “I KILLED YOUR GOD!”
Headcanon C: Sometimes really late at night when she’s drinking alone, Heather thinks really hard about the fact that by not killing her in infancy and instead raising her like any other child, Harry was literally gambling with the fate of the world. Really, really hard.

Headcanon A: Henry was the youngest in a large, rich family. His quiet, anxious nature meant he was constantly overlooked and all of his siblings went on to have important, high-income careers, he… went to art school, dropped out, and moved off to the east coast to get away from the constant pressure and quiet judgment. 
Headcanon B: Henry may hate socializing, but one of his favorite ways to make time spent in public places bearable is by standing quietly in the background of other peoples’ photos at every opportunity and looking directly at the camera.
Headcanon C: The events of SH4 effectively cured the severest of Henry’s agoraphobia… at the cost of sending him to the complete opposite end of the spectrum. For several weeks after first leaving the apartment complex, Henry was actively terrified of entering ANY buildings and spent more than one night literally sleeping on the streets.

Headcanon A: Claudia suffers from trichotillomania, a nervous disorder that causes a person to compulsively pluck out their own hair. This is why she doesn’t have eyebrows.
Headcanon B: Claudia met with Douglas on a number of occasions before he was actually able to locate Heather, and had to leave Silent Hill to do so. But she has no driver’s license and certainly nobody to get a ride from. So please, if you will, imagine being the unfortunate public transit passenger stuck sitting across from a tall scary woman with no eyebrows, no shoes, and no sense of how long is too long to be maintaining direct eye contact.
Headcanon C: As very young children, Vincent (then a preschooler) really latched on to the early-elementary-school-age Claudia, sometimes even following her straight past his own house on the walk home from school– which usually prompted an exasperated cry of “GO HOME, VINCENT!” from Claudia.
If you don’t think this is sad, please recall the other time that she says those words to him.

Headcanon A: Eileen waffled between a lot of potential career choices before eventually deciding to pursue becoming a conflict resolution specialist, thanks to her ability to get along with virtually anybody (like, come on, she even gets along with RICHARD).
Headcanon B: Out of the entire cast of protagonists, Eileen is the most terrifying and willing fighter out of them all. It doesn’t matter how scary you are– try and mug Eileen and she’ll come at you.
Headcanon C: Prior to SH4, Eileen would have described herself as seeing the best in everybody and trusting easily. Needless to say, that’s not the case anymore– and she has a really hard time not hating herself for no longer being the bubbly, open-hearted person she used to be.   

Fixer-Upper [h.s.]



The situation Y/N had found herself in was very rare and unnatural considering she was normally very mindful and cautious of these types of circumstances, especially now during class. It was odd and uncomfortable– boy, was it uncomfortable– and it made her feel hollowly awkward and flustered with anxiety.

It had happened to her a handful of times because, naturally, thinking about Harry can get her wound up pretty tight if just the right explicit thoughts managed to wriggle themselves in from the recesses of her mind. Thoughts that she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on too much while in public because making herself horny in front of her peers was utterly stupid. But this time, Y/N wasn’t really able to control it. It snuck up on her and when set into motion, she just couldn’t make it stop. It was like trying to halt a neutral FedEx truck from rolling down a hill only by pulling it with bare hands– hopeless and blatantly impossible.

Keep reading

The Most Badass Eulogy Ever?

I am reading a post-death profile about Olive Yang, and HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS.

Sentence One:

She was born to royalty in British colonial Burma, but rejected that life to become a cross-dressing warlord whose C.I.A.-supplied army established opium trade routes across the Golden Triangle.  

Okay, now THAT is a fucking lede. At least we know there’s no way sentence Two can out badass the first one…

By the time of her death, last week at 90, she had led hundreds of men, endured prison and torture, generated gossip for her relationship with a film actress and, finally, helped forge a truce between ethnic rebels and the government. 


Ms. Yang’s pursuit of a career as a militia leader and opium smuggler grew in part out of her desperation to escape traditional gender roles, her relatives said. “It was a temptation she couldn’t resist,” wrote her niece…


By age 25, she commanded hundreds of soldiers guarding caravans of raw opium on mules and trucks across the hills to the Thai border. Those trade routes served what would eventually become the world’s most productive opium-growing region…


Intelligence dispatches at the National Archives in Yangon described her as a menace to the peace.


After her older brother Edward abdicated in 1959, along with dozens of other hereditary rulers in Shan state, Ms. Yang took control of his former army, becoming the de facto ruler of the territory.


She also, according to her relatives, entered into a relationship with a Burmese movie actress, Wah Wah Win Shwe, lavishing her with gifts and adding her name to the deed of her house in Yangon.


…the arrangement came to an abrupt end in 1963, when Ms. Yang was arrested by police officials under Gen. Ne Win, who had seized power in Burma the year before. She spent six years in Yangon’s Insein Prison, where she reportedly endured torture.


…1989, when she was in her 60s. Retired as a warlord but respected among the ethnic rebel groups, Ms. Yang was recruited by the Burmese government’s chief of intelligence…


Confined to a wheelchair, Ms. Yang spent her twilight years in relative obscurity, living in the care of her stepson and his militiamen in a compound in Muse. Visited there not long after she had a stroke in 2015, Ms. Yang said she was happy to be living surrounded by deferential soldiers.   


When shown a photograph of Ms. Win Shwe at her home, Ms. Yang responded with a knowing smile and a devilish laugh.


“It’s very sad for all of Kokang,” said the former soldier, Liu Guoxi, reached by phone as he was preparing for the funeral. “We have all come to say farewell to our leader.”


Like just Damn. God Damn. God Fucking Damn.

I feel like I need a cigarette just reading that quick biographical summarization.


Whole article is here at the New York Times.



Every Silent Hill game in 'Local Man' terms
  • Silent Hill Origins: Local man loses truck, rescues burning child, remembers father's death
  • Silent Hill: Local man crashes jeep, loses child, helps ghost kill god
  • Silent Hill 2: Local man kills wife, meets stripper, adopts a child
  • Silent Hill 3: Local girl has bad dream, loses father, kills god
  • Silent Hill 4: Local man locked in apartment, finds corpse in walled up room, saves neighbour from ghosts
  • Silent Hill Homecoming: Local man with memory loss kills local judge, comes to terms with accidental drowning of brother
  • Silent Hill Downpour: Local man arrested, escapes from crashed prison bus, frees caged birds
  • Silent Hill Shattered Memories: Local man realizes that he is actually a ghost, local woman comes to terms with father's death
  • Silent Hill Book of Memories: Local blogger hasn't finished game, can't make decent joke, gives up and moves on
  • Silent Hill P.T: Local man trapped in never ending hallway while Swedish radio plays, wonders whose baby is in the sink
Just a Soldier

Pairing: Robb x Reader

Note: Someone liked when I did alternate Westeros concepts so I thought it would be interesting if Robb wasn’t born a Stark and the heir of Winterfell was actually a woman. 

Summary: Robb is nothing but a soldier from Bear Island who has been dragged into the Battle of the Bastards to fight for House Stark. Y/N is the oldest child of Eddard and Catelyn Stark making her Queen in the North. With the help of her half-brother, their direwolves, and an army of Wildlings, she’s planning on taking back her home from Ramsay Bolton and try to find the happiness she lost years ago. 


Winter was coming. 

It was the phrase every Stark knew by heart. Though, the constant reminder from both her mother and father of their house words had easily become an annoyance as she was growing up. Yet, now that she was older, she understood their importance. 

Not only that, but with the faintest of smiles she only reserved for herself in the privacy of her tent, she would silently admit to her father that he had been right all along.  The air was growing colder, the snow was falling harder, and the wolves seemed to howl more than usual at the soon to be Winter sky. 

Winter wasn’t just coming anymore, winter was almost here; and that meant she needed to get home before the storms would start. 

What once were just words had become the fuel that ignited the growing fire of rage that burned deep in her belly that tried effortlessly to break free and set the world aflame. 

If only Arya could see her like this; she wouldn’t even recognize her big sister, but Y/N knew she would be proud. It had been years since she last saw her little sister, and if it wasn’t for Arya being Arya, maybe they could have been reunited by now. Brienne tried, she told Y/N the story of her, Arya, and The Hound. Y/N already knew how the story was going to end before Brienne had even made it there. 

The point was, Y/N was far from what Arya could remember and she was ready to prove that. Of course, she was ready for a reunion with Bran and Rickon as well. After she had helped them escape off with Hodor and Osha, she had counted down the days when she’d see her boys again. For now though, Y/N had Jon and that was enough. Actually, it was way more than enough. 

Keep reading

The Truck

Originally posted by neaarty

Happy, happy birthday to my fellow smutketeer and #queenofdrabbles, @xerxia31​! Here’s a little story laced with angst and smut, liberally sprinkled with f-bombs and topped with a shitty red Corolla. Enjoy your day my lovely friend! I <3 you a whole bunch.

Rated M

The minute I heard the hum of Peeta’s new truck in the driveway, I was unimpressed. It was the first major purchase by either of us since we moved in together a few months ago, and I guess I’d just assumed we’d buy our next vehicle together. After all, both of our college cars are entering into their geriatric years. His Jeep wheezes and gasps up the hill toward our little house. Every bolt in my shitty red Corolla rattles the minute I turn the key.

He was barely out of the driver’s seat before he started going on and on about how useful it’s going to be and how much he’s going to save on Jeep repairs. He showed me the extended cab with the front bench seat and laughed about how I could snuggle up beside him.

I couldn’t enjoy his enthusiasm. I was too upset that he left me out of the decision-making. But since I’m the one to blame for that, I can’t complain.

Keep reading


Best Friend’s Brother

Request: Yes
Warnings: None
Pairing: Derek x Reader
Word Count: 1735

I woke up to not hearing the familar heart beat in the room. Instead, it was silent, making me turn to scan the place. As my eyes wandered over to her bed, it revealed that she was gone, blanket throw around along with other various things, now on the floor.

I sighed as I got up, maybe she just heard something right? Maybe she didn’t go back to her home town to find her brother. She’d never lied to you before…except maybe…that one time, or the other time, and that one other-

You found a letter on top of her pillow and as soon as you read it, you knew what had happened. She had left, although she said she’d be back soon. That’s all you could hope for now.

~3 months later~

I sighed, all of the things we’d need are in the truck, packed and now here in Beacon Hills were my dumb best friend is. She had said she’d be back home by now, but it’s been three months. I’ve been worried for some time now, and I wondered what had happened. She could be dead for all I know, which, I hope isn’t the case.

I drove into town, seeing the police station go by to my left and then the highschool that she talked about so much, how her brother used to go there and all. What was his name? Derek? I couldn’t remember.

We could she be?

I made my way into the parking lot, turning off the car and starting to carry bags into the complex. All the way up to the top, and then I turn to the… the right, that’s right.As I came to my door I see a man with dark hair come out from his. He was pretty tall and I caught myself looking at him to long. So did he.

He slowed for just a moment, looking at me as well.

“Derek, come on!” I heard a person say behind him.

Derek? Hale?

I didn’t have the chance to ask because a curly haired blonde boy pushed him out. They were gone before I could blink an eye.


I was out and about in town when all of a sudden I caught a familiar smell.Cora. But why would she be near an abandant bank? I looked up at the sign,Beacon Hills First National Bank.Such a weird place for her to go. Like, it looks like it hasn’t been open in years. And yet,her scent is still here. I peer inside, seeing nothing but a few dusty desks and a vault in the back. It’s faint, but I can almost make out a few pulses.

I turn to find a blind man with a dark haired girl at his side. She growls under her breath but the man puts his hand out, stopping her. I look at him as he seems to look back at me.

“And who might you be?” He asked, tipping his glasses. His eyes were a bright red. An Alpha. I take a small step back knowing he could kill me right here and now.

“Please don’t be afraid my dear,” He chuckled lightly, “I just asked your name.”

“Y/N.” I stutter.

“Only that? No last name?” he questions tilting his head to the side and putting his glasses back on. His eyes stop glowing. “Are you the next Madonna or Beyonce?”

“No,” I force a laugh, smiling fearfully at the girl by his side who has been glaring at me this whole time. “Y/L/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” I clarify starting to the side to get away.

“Well Y/N.” He states, leaning in close to me, “I suggest you go home.” And with that he continues on into the bank, pushing the doors open. I feel foolish, Why didn’t I try the doors?


It was almost 11'o'clock, and I still couldn’t shake the eery feeling of the man I met earlier today. It was like I should know him, something about him. It was on the very tip of my toungue, infuriating.

I stand on top of the building, looking around to see if anyone was here. Of course there wasn’t, but I stated to second guess myself when I heard a man’s voice talking, seemingly to another. I duck as they come closer, not knowing if they’re on my side.

“I can do it Scott, just trust me on this.” The man says opening the air conditioning unit and sliding his feet in.

“I know, I know, It’s just…” This Scott said, looking around. I crouched down more, trying to hide myself as his gaze passed over me. “Something doesn’t feel right.’”

It falls quiet for a moment and I wonder if they’ve gone in, but I still here their pulses. A Handy vampire trick. I stay quiet and stop breathing. When I think it’s safe I poke my head out but instead of the same scenary as before I find to eyes staring at me.

I gasp, pushing myself back a little to hard and falling over. I crawl backwards, away from the too  men as they follow me. My eyes soon focus on them and I realize it’s my neighbor, Derek and the other must be Scott.

Derek must recognize me to because he stops in his place. Scott looks over at him and then back to me.

“Who are you?” Scott asks, but it sounds more demanding.

“None of your-”

“My neighbor? What are you doing here- Never mind Scott, we have to do this now.” Derek says, turning back towards the now open metal box leading into the bank.

I watch as they both climb in and slide down the space before I hear a bang. I go towards the opening, looking down and seeing nothign but dust floating up.

I growl under my breath and then hop down into the shute.


“What were you doing there in the first place!” Cora yelled at me across the room. We were in Derek’s apartment, Although he’s currently unconcious on his couch.

“I was worried about you! You said you’d be back soon, Cora!” I shouted back, leaning on a nearby table. “It had been 3 months,” I mummbled, “What was I supposed to do?”

She sighed as she too started to lean on the chair next to her, “Not get bit, that’s what.” She stated. She laid in her chair for a while as I stumbled around the apartment looking for medical supplies. I was bewildered to not even find bandiaids.

“He’ll be fine, right?” She asked, coming up behind me as I put a cold cloth on Derek’s head.

“Yea, he should be, but he might have a hard time remembering what happened for a while.” I say, looking at the cuts on his arm and wishing I could find at least some neosporin.

I decided to go to my apartment to grab my own supplies. As soon as I walked into mine I felt my whole self sink. It became unignorable how tired I was. It was almost 5 in the morning and usually by this time, I’d be laying in bed at least. Instead, I see long hours ahead.

I walked into my aparmtent trying to find the marked boxes that had a messy scribbled of letters that could be disyphered as Bathroom. It took awhile to find them and I found myself remembering what had just happened.

All the stories Cora and I had heard were true. A new Hale, Derek, had started a new pack. It was powerful, even though all memebers beside himself were teenagers. All inexpericened and yet they stick together and fight as a team to save each other. They were close together and that was a special thing.

It was that very thing that had saved your life tonight. You had found yourself under Boyd He was in his full wolf form and he wasn’t happy that you had pushed his pray, a young junior high girl, out of the way. He could sense what you were, and he knew what he was going to do. You barely had time to think as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

You screamed in pain as you felt that he was gone, a gust of wind in his place temporarily. You couldn’t remember what happened after that, only writhing in pain on the floor as you heard people fighting around you. Soon you heard a thump next to you and when you turned your head, you found Cora, slowly changing back to her normal form.

You finally found the bandaids and ointment in a different random box, one without a label, and got up to go back to Derek’s apartment.

As you opened the door you found that a deafening alarm was blarring and as you went across the room to turn it off you were pinned to a column next to it. As you focused on the person in front of you they reached over to turn the alarm off. As they took their attnetion off of you, though, you took their advantage and kicked them away.

They easily forgot about the alarm and turned their focus back to me. They threw a few punches before I realized it was Derek. Instead of trying to disarm him I went to trying to just make him stop.

Before I knew it we were both on the floor, me ontop of Derek, pinning him to the floor so he couldn’t punch me anymore.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Cora asked, irrated. She stomped over to the alarm box thingy and turned it off and then came over to us.

“You know her?” Derek asked, recovering from being pushed on the ground. He dusted himself off and then faced me, looking me up and down, clearly judging.

“She’s my friend, Derek.” She scwolded as she took the things that I had dropped on the floor and came over to my side. She pushed my shirt off my shoulder and put some black stuff on. It burnt like a bitch but I could feel my fever that has been building leavev.

“Why don’t you tell your friend to not break into my home, then.” Derek complained, rubbing his arm and coming over to us.

“I’ll get right on that.” She sassed as she put a bandage on my shoulder and then glaring over at her brother.

“Good luck living next to him.” She whispered to me, helping me up and out of the apartment.

“Where are you going now!” Derek questioned us as when we were right next to the door.

“Next door, dumby.” Cora replied, “She’s your neighbor.”