#not proofreading

I’m indulging because I’m feeling silly

Nsfw under cut

“so you thought you could escape me.” seojun slowly ascended from his web. the vigilante always hated crashing other people’s parties, but he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed by the lack of invite to this specific gathering. not to mention, by the look of it, the party seemed to be close to coming to an end. great, now he was not invited and late? come on!

his fingertips touched the ground, view of the world remaining upside down, and, in one swift motion, he flipped himself right side up. “ahh, man!” he sighed in frustration, “you don’t know how hard this is for me! it’s just so frustrating when you think you finally have a friend and then, just like that, they ditch you to hang out with. . . i’m sorry, what’s your name?” seojun leaned to his side to look at the unfamiliar criminal, “actually, you know what? you can tell me all about yourself after me and my friend over here have a chat.”

that’s right. after only a week or two of finding another friend in the multiverse, this one also decided to abandon him ( even if it was only for an hour )! seojun was aware that most spiders preferred to hunt alone, but man! he thought this one was different. “okay, be honest.” the masked vigilante threw his hands in the air, “i thought we had something special! what is it about me that made you want to leave for your morning swing without me?”

So. (The vibe is that we're at a sleepover pretend we're at a sleepover) it all started with this fateful edit of Josh Hutcherson that I saw. Immediately sent it to my friends and guess what. Now my entire feed is filled with FNAF lore.

Yea it's a slippery slope guys. (Plato I'm sure you would've loved this story and all its philosophical elements). Well now I'm ina vicious FNAF cycle despite not ever being remotely interested in FNAF lore. But also. I am always curious. That's something about me I'm always curious. so I always click on the posts and they just keep coming in an inescapable avalanche.

Well. when I am tired my brain also likes to self sabotage and make me spooked w things that would not normally scare me. Anyways I'm trying to sleep the other night right. And I need this sleep it's like gold it's like treasure. But what does my brain manifest? Animatronics in my closet. Which. That's fine. Whatever. Brains gotta have fun sometimes I guess.

Anyways I take a melatonin for the first time in weeks to knock me out . I have a vivid melatonin dream where I am a poor beggar trying to get water from an Italian restaurant but they keep kicking me out.( I still remember the face of the manager who was mean to me btw even tho I remember no other faces).

Well one of the employees takes a liking to me and stands up for me and then naturally we start dating. It's me and Italian restaurant employee against the world (he is also rich somehow and his brother keeps having heart attacks which is also a central keystone to the dream but we won't delve into that).

A wandering narrative perhaps. but very emblematic of my life. Not the FNAF and Josh Hutcherson parts. Mostly the parts about melatonin dreams gaslighting me to oblivion.

-.-.-.-.-.-

“Merlin!”

Merlin sighs and turns to watch as Gwaine collides with the door to the physician’s quarters.

“One of these days that door is going to come off of its hinges and I’m forcing you to fix it. I have too much on my plate already,” he complains. In return, Gwaine puts his hands to his chest, a faux-butthurt expression on his face.

“C’mon, Merlin, I haven’t even said anything,” Gwaine counters, but Merlin’s just shaking his head. He should have slept in this morning.

“Gwaine, that’s the way you say my name when you get into trouble and need my help to get you out of it,” Merlin replies, “and I’m swamped right now.”

Gwaine just smirks and makes puppy eyes. Or, tries to. Instead it just looks like that time Merlin pranked him during Samhain. Merlin’s never seen eyes look so close to actually popping out of their sockets.

Merlin groans, and Gwaine mutters a little “yes” before scrambling over to Merlin. Before Gwaine can even mention the trouble he’s in, they hear a stampede clambering through the hallway, shouting angrily.

“Betting again?” Merlin asks. Gwaine just chortles, but it stops at the “Knight or not, I’m gonna kill you!” that echoes its way from the hall into the open door.

“Hide me?” is all Gwaine says in response, and all of a sudden, Merlin knows how they can both benefit from this.

“Of course,” the warlock responds, a dastardly and enthusiastic grin on his face.

At the change in mood, Gwaine’s putting his hands up, a “wait” leaving his lips, but Merlin’s already begun speaking in the old tongue. Suddenly, it’s not the Gwaine he knows standing before him, but an old man with Gwaine’s eyes, surprise and displeasure writ clear across his face.

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers,” Merlin says, delighted, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to wipe the smirk off of his face.

Gwaine’s old body is plopping down grumpily on the patient’s cot as a horde of angry townsfolk burst through the door. Again, Merlin can’t help but think how pissed he’ll be if that thing comes off of it’s hinges.

“Where is he?” grumbles an old man at the front of the pack. Merlin turns to them with a disappointed frown on his face.

“Where is who? This is the physician’s quarters. You can’t be in here while I’m with a patient,” Merlin scolds, gesturing to Gwaine on the cot. Gwaine takes the opportunity to groan and mumble to himself, gripping his abdomen. Merlin can’t help it.

“This man has been backed up for days. You can’t imagine the pain he’s in right now,” he almost blows it with a laugh, “The last thing he needs is this pileup barging in and blasting through while he’s in such a vulnerable state.”

The townspeople look genuinely unsure at this point. On the one hand, the physician’s quarters are at a dead end in the citadel, meaning there’s nowhere else Gwaine could have gone. On the other hand, they mean no disrespect to this elderly man. Merlin decided to really sell it.

“I’ve just given him a remedy of buckthorn and senna leaf. Do you really want to infringe upon his comfort as his body releases such a great accumulation of waste?”

Merlin’s got his hands on his waist, eyebrows knit, as he watches them catch up one by one. Then, all at once, they turn and scramble out the door.

“Oi! He’s going to be making some truly terrible noises! You can’t give him his privacy?” Merlin yells after them, and the last he sees of the crowd is a hand roughly yanking the door closed. He stares at it for a brief moment, and then he’s almost doubled over with laughter as he turns back to Gwaine. Gwaine who’s trying for unimpressed, but can’t quite seem to get the corner of his mouth to come down.

As Merlin calms down from his fit, Gwaine just looks at him, eyebrows raised and arms slightly extended, palms face up.

“Thanks for the assist, mate. I’m ready to be dashing again.” Now it’s Merlin’s turn to be unimpressed.

“Sorry, I seem to have forgotten how to reverse this one,” Merlin tells him, and for a second Gwaine’s face blanches, eyes wide again, before he smooths his face.

“Very funny, change me back,” he tries again, but Merlin’s already shaking his head.

“I think there’s a lot you could learn in a night as an old man. Like how to appreciate friends. And how good a nice soup truly is-“

“Merlin, please, you know I appreciate you and all you do, you can’t leave me like this,” Gwaine begs, but Merlin refuses to relent.

“I do, but this is too much fun,” the warlock replies. “Now get out of here before I decide to put buckthorn and senna leaf in your next meal.”

At that, Gwaine eases himself off the cot and stumbles his way toward the door, groaning and muttering the whole way.

But he doesn’t listen. I feel like I’m harping on him but he doesn’t seem to get that the reason I’m always so pissed about the dishes is because he never fucking does the dishes. He does his dishes. Maybe. Maybe. And that’s it. If you say that he should do dishes tonight, he says he doesn’t want to. Which I get, I totally get. Dishes suck. Cleaning sucks. But it’s either you or me asshat. And I’m the one doing dishes all the time. I’m the one cleaning. I’m the one picking up after you. You’re a fucking adult and I’m not your fucking mother. Why is this so hard for you to get?? This is not a turn on for me. I do not want to be in a relationship like this. I’m four fucking seconds away from walking away altogether. Don’t you get that? 

The only reason I’m staying is because I know there are fucking good times. I know I feel safe when we curl up in bed at night. I know I feel comfort slipping my hand into yours. 

But you make me so angry. ANd you don’t even seem to care that you do it. 

18. A random memory from you childhood:

Okay, this one is a tad long. but I love it.

I live on a (mostly) dirt road with four other houses on it, all seperated by feilds and woods. I used to (and still do) spend free days sneaking through the woods, both on and off our property, exploring, climbing trees, collecting bones, and watching animals. 

One day, I was doing what I usually do, following a path the deer had made to the pond, so I could revisit an animal den I had found and watch it for awhile, to see if any thing was in it. 

I sat in a tree nearby for about an hour or so, just watching things, when I got kind of bored and I decided to go look into the den. I walked over to it, shined my flashlight inside, and there wasn’t anything there. Boring. It was pretty big inside, so I started to think it wasn’t an actual den and was just a cavity washed out from flooding (it was on the side of a short, dirt cliff.)

And then I heard something coming. It was walking noisily through the leaves, from in front of me (I was facing the den and the cliff). I ducked down, sort of hiding behind the cliff. I waited for a few seconds trying to work up the courage to stand up and peer over the cliff. And then I heard a cough. A human cough. 

I’d seen enough movies. I figured I was about to be kidnapped and murdered. I was a little 10 year old girl, alone in the woods. So…I did it. I squeezed into the den’s entryway in under 5 seconds, super quietly. It was pretty roomy inside, from what I remember. 

(I’m sorry this is so long)

And then I waited for a few minutes, before I saw someone slide down from atop the cliff (again, the ‘cliff’ was like 5 feet tall) and walk away from it. Whew. Kidnapping avoided.

Except, it wasn’t a grow man or anybody scary. It was a little boy, and he looked to be my age. So I waited for him to move on, squeezed back out of the den, and followed him. Throughout the years, I had learned how to follow deer without disturbing them, and that came in handy.

I followed him for a little while before we ended up back at our road. He hadn’t noticed me the whole time. I waited in the trees and watched him wall down the road and out of sight.

Okay, the main point of this story: A few years later I found out a new friend I had made had an uncle that used to live on my road. He said when he was younger, he used to go to his uncle’s house and do the same thing I did, explore in the woods. I told him that story and we came to the conclusion that it was probably him I had been following. Pretty neat :)

24. When is your birthday?