actually the only thing you need to know when you start reading piranesi is that the mc has seashells and other pretty things in his hair. this is only revealed like halfway through the book but they were there the whole time. they rattle when he moves.
i spot a plus size honey across the bar and start to chat her up until her bisexual boyfriend with a magic the gathering tattoo comes over and starts yelling at me so i turn him sideways so he can't make another action until his next turn
So I do 3D modeling and printing as a hobby, and a few weeks ago I designed wheel guards meant to prevent office chairs from running over cables and clothes... or your pet's tail.
I got the idea from cowcatchers old locomotives used to have.
Anyways, yesterday I uploaded the model to Thingiverse, and just hours after uploading it, the Community Relationship Manager of the whole website left a comment suggesting I enter the model into a competition that's currently being held on the site.
So I did... and now it's in third place not even a day later. First place is $500, but the competition still has a month to go.
Then the Community Manager contacted me again, telling me they want to feature my model in anĀ upcoming design promotion.
Just, what is happening? I mostly made this thing for myself in, like, an hour, and now it's suddenly super popular? This is all a little bit overwhelming šµāš«
Other models I worked on for weeks didn't get nearly as popular. I swear, it's impossible to predict what people will like.
Anyways, if you want to print the wheel guards yourself, you can get the model here or here.
I also made a quiet version you can stick furniture felt pads on.
You're pretty sure the couple next door is keeping someone locked in their basement, but that's Johnny and Simon's business, not yours.
Part 4: A secret about a stranger
šø Ghoap/Reader | Neighbor AU | Masterlist | AO3 šø
cw: dubcon, manipulation, coercion, implied kidnapping and imprisonment, implied noncon, drugging?
Your date does not show.
This is what you get for trying to hook up with strangers on a dating app. Is that why this bar is called The Lone Hook? Is it you? Are you the lone hook, dangling all by yourself with nary a nibble? Your bait is not enticing enough, it seems.
Johnny and Simon have drilled punctuality into you, so you showed up at 8:00 PM sharp. Itās been half an hour now, and youāve been sipping a single drink the whole time, dodging judgement from the staff and pretending like the person youāre supposed to be meeting is about to arrive.
You arenāt sure if itās better or worse that your neighbors didnāt stop by to crash your date. As embarrassed as you are, you really could use the company right now. It didnāt seem like they were home when you left, though, and they knew when you were meeting him too because you canāt keep any details of your life to yourself.
After another message goes unanswered, you almost delete the dating app right then and there. But how else will you find someone to draw your thoughts away from your neighbors? Itās crossed your mind to ask Johnny and Simon if they have any single friends, but youāve decided that you wouldnāt be able to trust the moral compass of anyone they consider a friend.
Youāre about to flag down the bartender to close your tab when someone slides into the stool next to you. Surprisingly, itās neither your date nor your neighbors, but a stranger.
āMind if I sit here?ā
The bar is fairly crowded, but the seat adjacent to yours isnāt the only available spot. A potential tug on your hook?
āSure, go ahead.ā
This handsome strangerās tousled, dark hair isnāt the right shade to match Johnnyās, and his hazel eyes are too light to be like Simonās. Not that it matters, you remind yourself. He introduces himself as Alan or Alvināyou donāt quite catch it when he says it the first time and then thereās a roar of laughter from a nearby table when you ask him to repeat it, so you just give up.
āHave you been here before?ā
āNo, this is my first time.ā
Heās pretty fit with toned biceps showcased under rolled up sleeves, but heās not built like Johnny or Simon. Like he could lift you easily if he used both of his arms, instead of how youāve imagined your neighbors only needing one.
āThe Lone Hook is great. Not that I could convince my roommates of that. They all ditched me to check out some new club instead.ā
āWell, if it makes you feel better, the person I was supposed to meet also bailed on me.ā
Regardless of how Alan (or Alvin) compares to your neighbors, heās got a lot of things going for him. Perfect smile, captivating eyes, engaged and interested in you, the loser who very clearly got stood up and waited around for thirty minutes hoping that your date would just suddenly appear. Your night might just be turning around.
āIām moving out soon and will be done with roommates, though. I canāt wait to have a place all to myself.ā
āYeah, I get you. I really donāt miss having to deal with roommates.ā
The conversation progresses smoothly, mostly thanks to him. He genuinely seems to want to get to know you better, inquiring about your job, your hobbies, and even your family. He also doesnāt judge you when his line of questioning forces you sheepishly reveal how much of a homebody you are.
āOther than walking around the park near my house, I really donāt get out much. Iām sure thatās been apparent to you already.ā
āNothing wrong with that. Iām sure your neighborhood must just be too nice to leave. How long have you been living there?ā
Alvin (or Alan) is so charming and charismatic that it pulls a wire in your brain too tightly. Your stomach keeps doing flips from equal parts anxiety and attraction. It must be because itās been a while since youāve had to socialize with strangers instead of just Johnny and Simon.Ā
āI'd love to join you on one of your walks. My dog would too, I think I havenāt been taking her out enough. Lately, sheās been barking at anyone who passes by. How about you? Do you own any pets?ā
ā...no, no pets.ā
Before you knew your date would disappear off the face of the earth, you'd been approaching tonight with trepidation over anticipation. It especially didnāt help that your neighbors were constantly prodding you about your upcoming date, keeping it at the forefront of your mind all week. Some of that anxious energy must just be transferring over to this new endeavor. Since your nerves wonāt settle, you finish off your drink and move on to another one.
āThereās a group of us going to a show next weekend, and Iāve got some extra tickets if youāre interested. We had a lot of drop outs at the last minute, so feel free to bring a friend or two along.ā
āOh...Iām not sure about that. I donāt really have anyone I could bring either.ā
āWell, Iād be happy even if you just brought your lovely self.ā
Hehe, he called you lovely. Would your date have called you lovely? Would your neighbors call you lovely? In your dream, Johnny and Simon say nice things to you and they call you āloveā and they pour so much affection into youāfilling you to the brimāthat you nearly drown. Your mind wanders off track as more of your drink disappears, but at the last minute, you remember to prioritize the man whoās actually sitting in this bar with you.
Alan-Alvin really seems to be checking all your boxes, but something still holds you back. An inexplicable force that keeps your hands folded neatly in your lap when he leans in to speak over the sounds of the other patrons. Youāre desperate to fight through it and not let this chance slip away, though. When there's a lull in the conversation, even though youāve been ardently avoiding any mention of your neighbors, you bring out your only prepared starter topic.
āMy neighbor said this place used to be called something else before it was The Lone Hook.ā
āYeah, it got new owners about a year ago, and they renamed it then.ā
āWhat was it called before?ā
āThe Cellar.ā
The sip of your drink that was about to pass through your lips ends up all over your outfit instead, along with the majority of what was left in the glass. Fucking of course it was named that.
The barās razor thin napkins arenāt helping much to clean up your mess, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom. As a grown-ass woman, you really shouldnāt be spilling on yourself as much as you have been lately. It was embarrassing enough when Simon switched out your usual tea cup for one with taller sides after your last spill, as if you couldnāt be trusted to stay dry. Youāll never earn the right to use your old tea cup again at this rate, and you quite liked the pattern on that one!
Hunched over the sink in the ladies room, you use this reprieve from your impromptu date to review how the evening is going. Your hesitation is coming from somewhere, and youāre determined to figure out its origins. Alvin-Alan has been nothing but an attractive and personable gentleman, so what is this unease that you canāt seem to shake and why does it feel disturbingly familiar?
āYou must be the new neighbor.ā
āWelcome to the neighborhood! Iām Johnny, and this hereās Simon. We live right next door.ā
Oh, that's right.
It was when you first moved into your house and met your neighbors. There was something about them that perturbed you, and for a while, it didnāt make any sense. Johnny was all bright smiles, and Simon was brusque, but never rude. They were ideal neighborsāquiet, polite, friendly but not too friendly. A perfectly crafted veneer painted on the side of their house that faces yours.
The neighborly fence was tall and intact back then, but because Johnny and Simon are such eye-candy, you kept stealing glances at them. Thatās when puzzle pieces started slotting together until they formed the image of a basement door.
When you return to your seat, Alan is still there with a fresh drink waiting for you. Ice in the glass bobs and floats lazily as if recently disturbed.
āI got you a replacement,ā he announces with another devilishly handsome smile. You stretch your lips to mirror the expression while waving down the bartender.
āThanks, but Iām actually going to head out now. You enjoy it,ā you reply stiffly as you hand your credit card over to the barkeep. While your tab is getting closed out, you watch condensation sweat around the glass as Alvin makes no motion to drink it.
āLet me walk you home then,ā he courteously offers. āYou said you lived by yourself, right? Iād feel bad if I let you go on your own when thereās no one to make sure you made it back safely.ā
Dread continues to cultivate, vines and tendrils curling tightly around you. Are there other personal details that youāve thoughtlessly disclosed to him? Does he believe youāre the type of person that no one would notice if they went missing until it was too late? An awkward, friendless shut-in who has no regular contact with the outside world and lives alone with no guard dog to alert them of an intruder?
āIāll be okay, itās not too far.ā A lie, you are quite a ways away from home. āIt was nice meeting you.ā
Nothing he might say will keep you from escaping this place, so you donāt bother listening to his response. Purposeful steps weave you through the crowd and out the door, hastening once you're in the open but taking some unplanned route due to the urgent instinct to get away. To run, to flee, to widen the distance between the stranger in The Lone Hook and you.
Once you have the sense to realize youāre lost, you finally stop to look up how to get home on your phone. You spin in place to figure out your orientation, and thatās when out of the corner of your eye, you spot something.
A glimpse of a shadow, retreating behind the corner of the street you just came from.
It could have been anything. A stray cat darting away, a random pedestrian that made a wrong turn like you, or even just your notoriously overactive imagination. Thereās no logical reason to fear that man from the bar or to believe that heās following you, yet you do. Your suspicions are unfounded but also rampant and unchecked.
The dread resurges, blankets you like fungus consuming a decaying log. What should you do? What can you do? You consult the directions that will lead you home, and on the map, right next door to your house, is perhaps the answer.
You open your group text with Johnny and Simon, but you barely know what you want to ask them. Maybe if you were just on a call talking to them as you walk, it would make you feel better and dissuade whoever might be out. Mentally drafting the text, you plan out the preamble and how to let them know itās fine if theyāre busy and how youāre probably just panicking for no reason andā
BANG.
A loud clatter echoes from where you saw the fleeting shadow, like the sound coming from beneath your neighborās floorboards, like the sound in your dream when the basement door slams open. A message is typed out and sent before you consciously register what youāve written.
I think someoneās following me
You stare down at it numbly before starting on a new, coherent text with more context. A call from Johnny interrupts you.
You meekly answer it. āHi, sorry, Iāā
āWhere are you?ā Johnny asks, his voice so serious that you almost donāt recognize it at first.
āIāuh, Iām on...ā Your eyes dart around for street signs and for any more abnormal activity. āHays and Trenton. And itās probably nothing, I justāā
Simon halts your rambling with a tone that straightens your spine. āShare your location with both of us. Get off the streets and find someplace where you can hole up in until we get there. If it has security cameras, stand where one can see you.ā
āStay on the phone,ā Johnny adds. āWeāll be there soon.ā
Dread evolves into terrible fear, fed by your neighborsā grave urgency. Abstract perils solidifying to become real, tangible, and right behind you.
āJohnny...Simon...what if...ā
āDonāt worry. Weāll be there soon,ā Johnny repeats firmly.
Simon attempts to temper your panic as well. āWonāt let anything happen to you, love. Just follow our instructions.ā
Following your neighborsā lead has become second nature to you. Recognizing what their expectations are without them telling you and meeting those expectations is your standard operating procedure. So with Johnny and Simon administering direct orders, no interpretation required, your body begins to obediently move on its own.
You share your location with them using the āindefinitelyā option and then shelter in the back of a nearby 24-hour corner store, a surveillance camera pointed right at you. Your neighbors require that you provide a steady stream of communication as you pretend to be very slowly browsing the shopās wares. Occasionally, they go on mute to discuss something privately, but otherwise, theyāre speaking to you to keep you calm and focused when all your mind wants to do is take a little vacation from your body.
Itās almost surreal for your neighbors to be a source of comfort rather than a stressor. An unnatural, counterintuitive feeling to be crawling into the maw of a beast in order to escape a monster that might end up being imaginary. But there are dangers you know, and dangers you donāt. Under fluorescent lights and security cameras, you stay, waiting patiently for Johnny and Simon to retrieve you and return you back safely to where you belong.
one time I went over to a friend's house and their housemate was making paper in the living room, and we saw this big tub full of water they were using to dissolve old scrap paper into a slurry, and everyone was immediately like "oh, you need scrap paper?" and started turning out their jacket pockets and producing expired coupons and bus tickets and crumpled receipts and old shopping lists and whatever else they'd been carrying round with them for no good reason, and passing it all to the paper-making housemate to make sure it was suitable before it got torn up and dropped into the tub, while people took turns stirring the slurry with a big wooden stick. it was strangely ritualistic, like presenting an offering to some kind of temple elder for inspection before placing it in a watery shrine to be devoured and reformed. pulp for the pulp god.
Thereās a liquor store near my house that seems to be run exclusively by frat boys. They lovingly curate these bags, which I browsed today while āOops I Did It Againā played through the store speakers. This is art to me, there is beauty everywhere for those with eyes to see it
āmy father is a boy and my mother is a girl so iām mixedā is the funniest possible response to someone asking your gender and it came from 6ā5 Viking footballer and notable weird little guy Erling Haaland on a Snapchat
was talking to a coworker and realised i could not for the life of me remember his name but i was too embarrassed to ask because we've spoken multiple times so mid-conversation i started concocting a plan to nudge the conversation towards the ID photos on our building passes so that i could be like oh my ID photo is awful haha the camera they use to take these has a real talent for making me look as unphotogenic as possible and then he would say oh yes me too haha everyone says that (because they do) and then i would be able to say well let me see yours it can't be as bad as mine! and he would show me his ID because we are coworkers and why wouldn't he and this would allow me to see his building pass which of course would have his name on it and then i would be able to say well yours is perfectly nice it must be me that's the problem! and then we would have a polite chuckle about it and i would have his name without needing to ask for it and he would be none the wiser and all would be well but then before i could execute this fine plan a little voice in my head went "so this is some light yagami bull shit you are about to pull" which was such a violent reality check it shocked me completely out of my embarrassment and i went "hey im so sorry your name has slipped my mind could you remind me" and he did and it was fine.
"This is some Light Yagami bull shit you are about to pull" <- Littany against avoiding small embarrassing/awkward moments that don't matter with over the top ass mind games.
discoholicmusic
prguitarman
yousharknotpass
gracieabrams
pixelskylines
areudirty
