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therealpontius · 1 year

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For the fan fic requests: Steve-O and Pontius are on a camping trip or a Wildboyz thing. They have to share a tent and things get spicy

This might be alittle different than you asked and might not be so good sorry 😭

Plot: things get wild with the wildboyz

Warnings: drug misuse, violence, withdrawl,blood,NSFW

"Fuck sake!" Steve-o complained. As a punishment for being too hungover to even film for wildboyz that day, jeff gave the boys a tent and left them next to a random road that had a forest next to it were they could set up a camp.

Chris was obviously pissed but took the punishment better than steve-o who threatened to call the police multiple times. "Im going to call the cops!" He would groan through gritted teeth "cmon o' chill and help me set up"

It was already late so the boys had no plans other than to just go to sleep. "No fucking cuddles, im not gay" steve-o hissed while chris crawled into the cosy tent with him. "Stop being a douche, this isnt that bad when you really think about it" "yeah how? No chicks, no drugs, no anything!" "Yeah but you got me?" Steve-o just scoffed "im NOT a fruit" chris back hand hit him on the head "shut up and stop being so fucking negative" steve-o went into shock since he had never heard his friend be so aggressive but quickly broke out of it. "What the fuck!" He got up and straddled chris's waist, punching his face.

The withdrawal was getting on steve-os nerves more than he would like to admit. It had been hard for him to concentrate on anything all day, his body was shaking sometimes and he would get constant cold sweats making him feel ill. The last thing he needed was his 'buddy' being pissed at him.

"Shit!" Chris panicked, grabbing the scrawny mans wrists in a tight grasp to stop him from beating him up. "Let go of me you idiot!" He fought against him, chris could feel the blood from his lip roll down his cheek " you fucking hurt me you prick! Im bleeding! If i let go of your hands youll try kill me again!" Chris raised his voice, stopping steve-os angry squirming "fine ill stop" he rolled his eyes, chris reluctantly let go of his wrists.

Steve-o stayed put on his torso, making himself comfy right on his crotch "is it okay?" "Yeah its fine. What the fuck got into you?" Steve-o groaned in response, not wanting to talk about his withdrawal or even talk about himself at all. "Just needing some coke" chris let out a small giggle, not meaning to offend him "damn so i have blood allover me because of some drugs?" Without thinking he rested his hands on steve-os thighs "im sorry dude.. i really dont know why i done that" chris rubbed his thumbs in circles trying to sooth his friend.

Steve-o noticed this but decided not to say anything, it felt so good and he didnt want him to stop. He had had a crush on chris for god knows how long but had been too scared to admit it.

"Quite comfy?" Chris asked, referring to steve-o overstaying his welcome on his lap "oh shit sorry" purposely he grinded against chris while alwardly trying to get off him.

Chris had also had a crush on steve-o for awhile but didnt want things to go sour between them if steve-o didnt feel the same. When steve-o dismounted him and grinded against him he felt himself already getting hard.

Chris moved to his side to take his mind off steve-o sitting ontop of him, when he lay on the secret stash of weed he hid in his underwear for when steve-o was sleeping "what was that?" Steve asked, turning to face chris "nothing..." "you got food?" "No?" "Cause if you are eating, im hungry so" "its not food o' i swear, go to sleep" "is it fucking drugs?" Chris went silent to ponder what reply to give him "are you fucking kidding me on? Where the fuck is it?" Steve-o raised his voice "fuck sake! Its mine!" "But im having withdrawal! I could die dude" with a loud groan chris sat up, putting his hand into his boxers. Eventually he pulled out a small plastic bag that held a blunt and he flung it in between the two who sat with their legs in a basket "no lighter?" "Fuck sake" chris grumbled, unzipping his bag and pulling out the penis shaped lighter "fucking freak" steve-o mumbled, opening the small plastic bag to steal the blunt.

"You better share" chris added as the skinny man unzipped the tent and sat at the opening to keep himself dry but not make the tent musty. He took a long draw of it, enjoying the blazing feeling down his throat "auuu fuck, thats it" chris rolled his eyes, still lying down on the bed, steve-o sitting infront of him. "You want abit?" He offered, passing him the blunt "yeah.." after a draw he passed it back, steve-o scanning his face "whats wrong with you?" "What do you thinks wrong with me?" Both the men paused for a moment "your on your period?" "Fuck off" chris giggled, unintentionally. "Then what the fucks wrong dude?" "You stole my night time weed and your being a dick, im litterally bleeding as we speak" chris said referring to his cut that had not yet healed "were? From your vagina?" Steve-o shot back in a witty manner, making them both laugh. "I cant ever stay mad at you, you know me too well" "and thats why you love me so much" steve-o added to test the waters, passing the blunt back to chris. Chris lay his hand on the inside of steve-os thigh "thats why i love you.."

Softly chris glided his hand closer and closer to steve-os growing bulge, soft whimpers falling from o's mouth. Wordlessly chris handed the blunt that was almost finished back to steve, cupping his bulge with his big hand as soon as he placed it in his mouth. He let out a loud groan, chris scanning the side of his face carefully while moving his hand up and down the fabric of his boxers. Steve-o passed the blunt back "you finish" once chris grasped the blunt steve-o turned round and straddled him again, making sure his bulge was rested against is friends. While chris continued to smoke, puffing the air into o's face, steve-o grinded his bulge off chrises like a desperate dog "you look so pretty when your desperate for me" chris praised, his voice deep with lust in a way steve-o had never heard before.

Chris crushed the blunt onto the grass and flipped steve-o over effortlessly, sitting on him the way he was only seconds ago. Chris continued to pull both their boxers down, steve-o staring at him in either fear or confusion "are we really doing this?" He asked timidly "unless your not wanting to then fuck yeah" "yeah dude just get on with it". Chris looked down and admired the sight of both their hard cocks resting against the other .With his thumb and pointer finger he created a circle shape, moving it up and down just over steve-os tip. A soft grunt left steve-os lips that was probably more from surprise at the sudden sensation. "You like that?" Chris teased with a grin, steve-o just arched his back.

He stopped his teasing movements and leaned over to kiss him "HEY DUDE! NO?" Steve-o spat like their cocks werent literally touching "what are you so afraid of?" Chris asked seductively, rolling his hips forward to rub himself against the skinny man that looked up at him with suddenly soft eyes "fuck.. nothing just..." he trailed off, closing his eyes in bliss while chris continued to rub himself off his cock. While the opportunity was there, chris bent down again to kiss steve-o but this time he didnt swat him away and make a fuss. He pushed against his lips greedily. "Fuck, you changed didnt you?" "Chris just touch my cock before i decide to hate you again!" Steve-o playfully raised his voice, pulling away from the kiss.

Chris obliged, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks, sliding his hand over just the top. A loud groan slipped from steve-os mouth "oh fuck dude...thats incredible" "mhm..." chris groaned. He looked down at steve-o admiring how gorgeous he looked, god why cant he do this everyday.

The two continued like this for another minute before steve-o couldnt stop moaning, loud and gutteral only turning chris on more "fuck dude.. im like so fucking close" "same...your shirt, lift it so it doesnt get stained. Without hesitation steve-o ripped his own shirt off, dick twitching in chris's hand. "Jesus.. i cant... wait anymore" "just let go.. cmon" with a loud exaggerated moan steve-o came alover his chest, chris very shortly came too at the sight and the overwhelming pleasure.

Short panted breaths were the only noise that filled the air, the realisation finally hitting steve-o "dude, cmon get off, i need to wash" he sounded upset with himself, desperate to run away from this situation. Im not really gay right? Chris stripped his shirt off and started cleaning their mixed mess off his stomach, aware of his regret. "Why did you ruin your shirt?" "I dont know.. just wanna make sure your clean" steve-o scoffed but looked up at him in appreciation "thanks..."

They lay back down in silence "you dont regret it do you?" chris asked, feeling guilty "yeah i do. Im not gay" steve-o bit, turning round to face chris "no one said you were, stop getting uptight we are best friends". Did he just friend zone me? "Just cmon, no one needs to know" chris noticed something outside catching steve-os eye behind him"what? What is it?" Chris turns round to face where steve-o was looking to be met with a very small red light "what the fucks that?" He jumped up and ran for it, it was a camera, a small hidden camera that was facing the tent. "Oh shit.." steve-o mumbled.

They spent a whole hour trying to delete their now sex tape from the camera but were unsuccessful, it had been determined that it was one of theirs from the wildboyz sticker that sat at the bottom"i cant let jeff see this, no fucking way" steve-o growled, resting his head in his hand "we will just say that it got lost. Some animal came by and ran with it"

The whole night was silent from then on. Chris slept like a baby but steve-o got absolutely none, tossing and turning, not exactly regretting it but uncomfortable with himself.

The boys woke up to jeff blowing an air horn inbetween their heads, both of them jumping and staring at jeff like they wished death on him “wake up sleepy heads we gotta head” the crew had started lifting their luggage to the van so that they didnt take forever to pack it. “Too early, too fucking early” steve-o grumbled “whats wrong boys busy night?” Jeff smirks making both theirs face’s go red, he then proceeded to take the camera from under steve-os pillow. He smiled at their plum coloured faces “live camera…”

#jackass #chris pontius #wildboyz #mtv jackass #fanfic #steve o

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magnoliamyrrh · 1 year

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Don't you have a psychotic father? Didn't you fear that acid might trigger psychosis in you too?

He did. Its unclear what has caused my fathers psychosis however. His mother holds that when he was young he overdosed on some medication and had a long series of epileptic-like seizures, and that this may be the source; doesnt seem too far fetched bc there have been cases of this happening, and of epileptic seizures causing religious-focused psychosis, and feelings of "heaven" and "hell." Noone else in that line of my family, or on any side of my familty, has had any kind of psychosis-inducing mental illness however, noone recently at least or noone that anyone knows of

I used to worry about it at the beggining, yes, every once in awhile I still do. I mean, before i even did psychadelics weed could have technically caused psychosis - ive met ppl in psych wards who had weed-induced psychosis who had no family history of it even; one girl who it hit after the first time she smoked, and didnt even smoke much. However, no matter how much and how frequently ive smoked, ive never come close to feeling like it was causing that - the most ive had is weed-induced paranoia and other shit, but nothing once I came down. To smoke weed was a risk in the first place, which i took, and so far its been years and nothing has hit me

When i first tried psychadelics, and acid was the first one, I knew it was a risk, one i took because I know I could handle high doses of weed without losing it, and because I was...... well. I was fucked up. anorexia bulimia suicidality a bunch of other shit, i wasnt far away from a second suicide attempt at all, and I couldnt rly see many ways out of the shitshow i was in - i figured if I didnt kill myself the anorexia or bulimia would kill me anyway...... and so, i decided to take the risk, that everything good ive heard might be worth it. And im very glad I did, bc theres a high chance id be...... either dead or much worse off today

By now ive tripped idk well over 50/60 times and have yet to feel like my brain has been pushed twoards psychosis. The most I can say is that, and this applies only to acid which I dont rly do anymore, when I did later on take probably too high doses and had rly bad trips,,,,, yea, in the middle of the bad trip i was afraid of that possibility (or more accurately afraid the trip would never end) - frankly, I think the fact that I had the strength to keep myself together and pull myself out of it got me through it; i dont know if someone else going through that experience without prior experience and the ability to try to keep it together would have had a psychotic break, idk, maybe so maybe not - maybe it wouldnt have been chemical but it would have been so traumatic that theyd have been lost in the sauce. Or maybe not........ the most i can say is that I learned my lesson w strong doses of acid, and that it did happen that I felt its effects for days or weeks after the trip - not psychosis or delusions - hard to explain, but its like the trip lingers; in good cases this is called psychadelic "afterglow," after bad or exhausting trips its not particularly pleasant

Sooo, idk. Yea, i guess it could happen, fuck it, it could happen with weed too. Its a risk I take. I don't smoke as commonly as I used to anyway, and I dont do psychadelics as often (tho frankly the times when I would do shrooms around once or twice a month were the most productive, stable, sane, happy periods of my life). I hope to God it wont, but it could, even being careful and respectful with it

....... overall though? psychadelics, and especially shrooms, have made me feel exponentially, exponentially more "sane" than I ever was before I took them..... and even particularly crazy trips managed to teach me, my brains a lot more put together and stronger than I thought it was

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yungviry · 1 year

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a fucking mess

man guys it happened, i ran into my ex! and boy was it terrible. let me set the scene: im at the gas station and simultaneously pumping gas and recording a snapchat video like we do. and as im done pumping the gas and getting back into the car and watching back my video, he pops into my car window. completely caught me off guard. i cant remember all the shit he said but he did say stop "talking shit about me online". which i found to be annoying but whatever. i pulled away as fast as i could and parked down the street. i tried my best to not give a reaction or say a word and i didnt. i pulled over and cried for a bit like a fucking pussy, cause i couldnt handle it. my ass was so stressed. i dot know about yall but i dont ever expect to see an ex after a breakup unless its intentional. and the fact that he was just at my neighborhood arco was just a nightmare. officially never going there again.

im telling yall a breakup is different for everyone. we cope differently and its all good. a bitch will be revealing but just know that my book will but much better. and the focus isnt necessary my ex's but more so my life after blossoming into a woman if you will. a bitch hit a hundred bodies i feel like i got a story to tell. and 100 isnt a lot but in 3 years i give myself a pat on the back. theres just a lot of tales and unfortunate situations i got myself into.

malik is an ass. was an ass. i dont care for the terminology hes a menace and no im not gunna shut up about him to an extent. sometimes i remember that he used to hit me, sometimes i remember he used to be rude as fuck, i remember when he told me he had herpes and religiously blamed it on his last girlfriend. he was a big piece of shit and i just feel if someone wants to get involved with him they should know the indiscretion he omits.

Malik Salam shit list (from oakland in case you women are unaware)

-cheater (multiple times, im aware im the dumbass that took him back like 4 times for the same shit but imma still add it to my list cause a bitch was gaslight like a motherfucker till i saw shit for myself)((this is as in messaging/hooking up with master rochi/the white bitch im blanking on her name right now)

-has fucking herpes and reused to let anyone of his previous sexual partners know

-constantly asked to borrow money with and told me hed pay me back, blackmailed me by saying he woulnt pay me back if we broke up, and for the whole 3 years almost never paid back any of the money

im sorry the money always be pissing me off. like yall don understand when i get to the malik chapter of my book im gunna go off. he whole ass knew since december 2021 that his friend was getting married in vegas in october 2022. told me up and down i wasnt going. literally could have convos about how i was axed from those plans. and because hes cheap (or broke i didnt looked at his accounts) a month before he tells me i can suddenly go. "book the room and well split it" never got his half. paid for gas the whole way there. paid for the majority of meals. but dont worry he shared his weed.

actually at some point in the planning he uninvited me from the wedding and said "i could still come to vegas just not the wedding" so my ass didnt even have a fit for the wedding, we went shopping out there. just thinking about this shit is annoying. supposedly your best friend is getting married but you didnt put any money away for the whole event. spent the 4 days there watching squid games in his car, he did bring weed so we shared our weed too, and didnt really do shit. went to the hoover dam and the grand canyon, but not really the grand canyon cause e got there when it was dark and didnt see shit. but overall i spent a band on the trip and never got half of that.

gosh i hate shitting on someone cause obviously you loved them and thought well of them at some point so just know im ranting. this really is my space so my ass sometimes just wants to shit on the bitch i tried to really see the good in. like the basic consensus is i feel stupid as fuck and im not gunna go tell my homies exactly how big a shit head he was. i didnt while we were together and i aint finna start. so imma just write it out and shit on his ass on my tumblr like any healthy and coping young lady.

and his hair looks stupid so very much happy.

its crazy cause ive been thinking abut derrick lately (my og ex boyfriend) and then byrd hits me up to hang out (my og fuck buddy). the byrd thing isnt soo soo weid just cause i did hit him up like a week ago to say happy birthday. but his ass doesnt munch box so theres no point in hooking up.

however derrick...

man i aint seen him in like a over a year, his birthdays at the end of the month and i have a bit of a birthday message already in the works. hes gunna be 30 at the end of the month and it makes me remember our pact, said wed marry each other if we were still single. but last time i seen him i said "can we change our pact age to 40" 30 still young i still have time and plenty of fish still swimming around.

see that man is a muncher, not the best, but hes alright for the occasion. but its not the munching im there for its the wiener. see his wiener could have a whole chapter in my book too. i was obsessed with it and him. he just fucks hella good, im sorry im repetitive but damn that man works his wiener like a king. if i could have one last fuck it be him forsure. sometimes i can still feel it if i concentrate, and 100% will get goose bumps. sometimes i feel like hitting him up but he still has the same girlfriend, and last time we hooked up im sure it was some type of sneak off on his part, but thats exactly why im unlucky with love. i be fucking with this man and i dont know if hes single single. and he wasnt a good partner either, he cheated too and lied about that shit, except i actually left after the first time.

idk didnt mean to go off topic, sometimes i start spewing and shit gets all mixed together. lowkey i have had derrick on the brain so to see malik was just hella wild. im pretty sure he called me but last time i checked we didnt have shit to say to each other. i spent 3 years giving that amn all the opportunity to tell me wassup to spill his guts and truly im over it and if hes tickled that im "exposing" him for being a shitty boyfriend when in reality im just fucking telling my truth is obnoxious. he hit me he cheated on me he lied about all the shit he was doing and continued to even when confronted. like my ass is just hurt and im gunna let it out

#rant #rant post #personal rant

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an-emovision · 2 years

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𝓒𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮 𝓼𝓶𝓸𝓴𝓮

A/N: Hello hello! im here with a Xiao fic ofc, i didnt post anything for his birthday and i feel bad about it, i'd love to turn this into a series if people wanted! May all Xiao wanters be Xiao havers! <3

Warning(s): Smoking, ooc Xiao maybe, modern AU ——————•°•✿•°•——————••——————•°•✿•°•—————— Walking into the house felt like getting decked in the face, your nose crinkled at the smell of cigarette smoke and weed. You immediately regretted agreeing to come to this party, the house was fogged, making it a little harder to see. your feeling of regret only deepened when Hu Tao, the one who had begged you to come to this party with her in the first place, patted your shoulder and told you she was going to find Yanfei. Before you could even protest, she had disappeared into the sea of intoxicated bodies, leaving you to look around and twiddle your fingers by the front door. You weren't there for long though, quickly getting pushed out of the way by a group of guys hollering about going to get more alcohol. Thankfully you didn't trip but the smoke stench was only enhanced the further into the house you went so you decided going outside would be the next best thing. You pushed your way to the back door, letting out a sigh of relief once you made it out into the fresh air. the smell dissipating, save for the boy sitting on the stars right in front of your feet "My bad" He uttered through the cigarette between his lips, he scooted over to the edge of the stairs as he assumed he was in your way. "No no you're fine!" You smiled though he wasn't looking at you, seemingly barely willing to spare you a glance as you stood behind him awkwardly, trying to think of something to say. Thankfully he spoke before you could possibly embarrass yourself "You from around here?" He asked, exhaling smoke and flicking embers away "Never seen you before" "Oh uh no, im here visiting family for the summer" He nodded at your words, not really having any response beyond that. "So um..Whats your name?" You asked, wincing mentally at how forced it sounded. He chuckled at it though, making the pit in your stomach lessen as he told you his name "Xiao" ——————•°•✿•°•——————••——————•°•✿•°•—————— 𝐹𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉!

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idris-hunts-the-mando · 3 years

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Right place, Right time \the departure pt.1/

Rating: Mature

Words: 6.1k

A/N: this took me the bulk of a week to complete, i think ill make a few small bite sized works for a while, working on the next part in a week or so, once i get myself back together. give me all the love you as a reader can, I’m fueled by praise/hj

pairings: none yet

Warnings: series typical violence, hard swearing, moderate gore

I woke up sore and hurt in the bunk room, the cold cot felt like frozen river stones under my tired bones. I could tell we arrived at our destination from the frostbite settling into my fingers and nose. The slow neutral hum of machinery was a tell tale sign that the ship was at ease, the noise usually deafening. Pulling my threadbare scarf up over my neck and chin, i started regretting choosing this particular cargo ship going to a frozen planet for a runaway plan. I braced for the aggravating beginning to the tiresome day and sat up from my cramped bunk space. sleeping in a room with a dozen oily work worn men didnt make any part of the trip to Maldo Keris easier, not to mention the fact they all saw me as more of a womp rat and less of a sentient being. keeping my eyes to myself, i shoved my tattered boots over my feet buckled my tool belt to my hip and hurried out of the barracks before the bulk of my crew mates woke up. stepping out onto the loading dock,i took a breath in. the smell of poorly filtered air irked my mechanics brain. It would be such an easy fix if they payed me to care. But alas, for this particular voyage, i was bunked out like a stowaway, giving in return my fix-it help around deck for passage off my planet of origin. Sighing out the musty air, i checked my stations. Navigating the hold was like a womp rat through a maze, you had to be rather nimble and graceful to get through the makeshift corridors without issue. Unluckily for me, I was neither nimble nor graceful. When i got to the panel, i took out my key ring and unlocked the rusted metal door to expose the intricacies within. the wiring looked tip top shape, but the fuel lines needed a bit more attention than the other tangle of electronics, so i took out my multi-tool to tighten the fittings. The liquid distilled Rhydonium that flowed through these particular lines was a less explosive substance than its pure form, but dangerous nonetheless. the multi-tool was a newer model, so it didn't fit this type of bolt all the way, but it was better than nothing. Better than allowing it to loosen over another voyage and have the ship explode mid hyper-speed.

My mind was so stuck in its own world, the training I had over the many years in a scrappers shop spewing all of its knowings about rhydonium and fuel lines that I didn't have time to notice the first lieutenant Maegs stalking his way over to me. I jumped a moment before he spoke, tightening the last half inch of the bolt down maybe a bit too aggressively.

"We the captains crew appreciate the helping you've been do'en for this ol beasty of a ship," he mentioned, one his independent eyes viewed me separably, while the second one was monitoring my work. I froze for a moment out of fear, but i didn't think he took notice. "You're more than welcome to stick 'round 'an see what else you can fix up for this rust-bucket." the first lieutenant never gave me much of a hard time, unlike most of the crew. But I had made up my mind the first night in hyperspace that I would haul ass out of this suffocating ship as soon as a habitable planet was spotted. I finished up closing and locking the wires box, shaking my head slowly and turning to face him.

"I do love the sentiment, lieutenant. but maybe another time if our paths cross again." I forced an obligatory smile, avoiding making eye contact with him at all costs out of fear for not having the attention span to pick and stick to a wondering eye. If i could ever force myself to say something nice about the ship and its crew, it would be the acceptance of short interactions. A conversation rarely surpassed the 'how are you doing today' phase, by the moons it never got to that phase in the first place. And I was a person of not many words, and not much of a filter.

Maegs nodded slowly, clasping two of his 4 arms behind his back and turning away. I felt the need to repay his unprompted kindness with some suggestions for the ship before I left it for good. Call me sentimental, but this ship, albeit mostly composed of literal blood sweat and spit, was my ticket into a new life. "don't let yourself get caught without changing the air filtration system, them new republic scouters are picky about what type of poison you use for cremates." I remark with a little smirk. Maegs paused, narrowing his eyes, amused by the backhanded remark. He had surely gotten complaints about the smell before. He gave a thoughtful nod toward me, and allowed himself a small smile. I looked down in my hands, the key ring still hanging off my index finger. I tossed it towards him and was relieved when he caught it. he turned with no further words needed. On his way to the control room, he pushed the cargo bay door release button. My line of sight was clear from the opening door to the nearby port town and when the frosty air stung my face, I knew in my soul that this was a good thing. Taking in a breath of the salted frozen air, my body naturally recoiled. I'm not one for cold. 'Ah well, way to go picking the nearest ice planet than idiot' I scolded myself, pulling my cloak back over my shoulders to take the first step out of the ship held together with sticker line and bantha spit. 'Good riddance'.

Walking into town was harder than expected, the ice on the ground blended into the ice of the horizon, making spacial reasoning a thing of the past. The only anchor I had to the planet besides its heavy gravity was the stark grey buildings stapled to the sheets of ice about 10 meters in front of me. I never could have guessed the sky of Maldo Keris could get any uglier, but planets like these have a way of surprising a person. I tucked my hair and ears away with the hood of my raggedy travelers cloak, bracing myself from the heavy winds by retreating further and further into my cloths. I stayed on the worn path from the ship's dock port, hearing from previous crew mates that this was the warm season, that the ice was thinner and the creatures lurking underneath had no sense of remorse. Now nervous at the revival of that pleasant memory, I kept a close eye on my surroundings, not having the most faith in my feet for staying their course. The wind stung at my exposed skin, reminding me I was wearing only my work cloths that weren't meant for the sudden change in climate. The cloak I had was best at protecting my human skin from the suns above. Beyond that, my tatterd outer layer didn't do much for the safeguarding of my body heat.

I was relieved to have stumbled to shade from the wind so quickly, the heavy kit bag on my back was starting to feel more like a boulder taped to my body than a simple means of containing my tools and spare cloths. Paying attention to the signs overhead, i quickly located the nearest cantina and rushed towards it as fast as any human Popsicle can. Opening the circular doors with the press of a button took me into what felt like a summer time resort. Hiding my appreciation for the warmth from the patrons staring at me, i collected my composure and swiftly found an open table. The electronic doors closed rather harshly behind me. I recognized the sound of faulty pressure hinge and eyed the door for a moment when i took my seat. That door was a danger to customers who get caught in it, it could cause some serious injuries for larger species and even fatalities for humanoids.

Sitting down at the frosty old wooden chair was a relief on the fatigue in my joints. It was neither a comfortable seat, nor a relatively stable one, but it gave me time to take off my pack and study the small, rather ugly, room I found myself to be in. It wasn't too long before I would have to order something, or I feared starvation. The crew mates on the cargo ship were kind, if the bare minimum counts. Food once a day (as per average in the parsec), and as much sleep as necessary per species or race. For humans in particular, that amount of time was annoyingly low. tired and hungry was a bad mix for me as it is, but add cold to that mixture, and the first person to get on my nerves would be the last. i checked the contents of my bag to make sure everything looked as it should and moved up from my chair, replacing the spot with my hefty bag. I was rather confident that if any Kung Nerfhearder tried to run off with it, it would be too weighted for them to get far. I may be rather small compared to other sub species of humans, but i pride myself on my strength often.

Making my way to the bar counter, I lean up between two silent patrons sitting a few seats away from each-other. I get the barkeep's attention with a wave of my fingers, calling him to me. "What kind of meal do you have on the stove top right now?" I ask with my flattest low tone. In port towns like this its important to be as emotionless as possible in order to not draw attention to yourself. Colorless, shapeless, uniform and mad was always the role you had to play to make it through the galaxy.

"We got a silver weed in the radiator, it'll be 3 credits." He replied, picking up a glass and wiping it out with his rag covered hand. I pulled the amount needed out of my pocket and set it down on the bar counter. he swiped his hand over the credits, picking them up quickly. nodding, he left the sight of the bar for only a spit second before returning to the table with a small bowl of mush. I tried my best to smile and be thankful for the meal, but as the bowl transferred to my hands I had to focus on not gagging. I hurried back to my private table in the corner and settled back into my seat, dropping my bag on the floor between my legs to keep it as safe as possible. The last thing I want is a soup that tastes like the scrapings of a persons shoe into street worn snow, but what can you expect on a planet such as this. Prodding the gelatinous mass in the bowl with my spoon, I ponder the ever growing question of 'what in the hell is in this shit'. my mind wonders deep into its personal wonderland while my environment continues to be less and less favorable.

Hostile voices from the other side of the cantina rise louder and louder, as if at the warm up stage of a slowly progressing screaming match. The feeling of sourness in my heart rose with a predictable inclination. The tension in the air grows as yet again the same scene unfolds before my and all other patrons of the cantina's eyes. I strain my neck to see what was happening. At the far end of the room, closer to the door than I am, I saw the oddly familiar face of a poor amphibious creature's head being slammed on the table he was sitting at. The oldest and most primal of situations, the strong picking on the weak. Three tall imposing figures towered over the poor humanoid looking fellow who was obvious to any idiot to be lacking in intimidating features. Seeing this obligatory show of power for any insecure creature with anger issues never sat right with me. It reminded me too much of where I came from, the slums of sand and glass where bullies like these were treated like royalty without challenge from the ones they harassed.

'Dank ferrik, don't do it' i challenged the assaulter internally, as if pleading with them to harm their victim any more so I would have a reason to put in use my blade skills. i had no idea where I've seen that face before, but as they say, curiosity killed the Cathar. And there it happened, the final action in the escalation. The largest of the assaulter lifted the poor guy to his feet and the ring leader lifted his knife to the throat of his victim. A cry of anguish and fear came from the poor fool being restrained, and that was my last straw.

I stood from my chair, kicking away my bag and drawing my vibroblade from my thigh holster, walking over to the group across the tavern. I growl, squaring my shoulders and stiffening my legs to make me seem bigger. I must have looked pretty wild, my tattered cloak drawn over my body like a dark fog, and my scarf still pulled up like a mask over my nose with only my furious green eyes over the top. Just as I started my warpath towards the men, the heavy ring shaped door to the cantina opened abruptly, startling a few of the onlookers. I knew what type of situation I had put myself in and how important focus and intimidation was, so I didn't take any time away from the assholes with blades to gawk at who had happened to stroll in. With my attention solely married to the poor bastard and his assailants, I noticed all of their attention was stripped from their target and glued to the newcomer. Evaluating my surroundings, I saw most of the other patrons in my sight were enthralled too. This piqued my interest and I felt it safe enough to turn and check out the royalty.

Standing soberly at the bar counter, the figure of a mandolorian stood in silence, facing the bar keep. My heart dropped first, than my jaw. Only legend, only in the oldest fables and the scary stories my nan would use to scare me into not stealing the sweets late at night, had I ever heard of the likes of him. from the bescar armor forged in the heart of a black flame forge (or so i've been told) to the galaxy known creed of mandalore, this being was the stuff of leadgeneds. To be feared and adorned wherever they so chose to walk. but not anymore. Not since the planet turned to glass a hundred years ago, destroying much of what was known of the infamous warriors.

I don't think the aggressors saw me and the dangerous piece of weaponry clasped in my hand, instead they looked drunkenly amused at the new patron, like sly cats with a new toy. surveying his surroundings, the warrior's expressionless visor swept the room. He inspected the threat levels of the patrons, the bullies, the amphibious humanoid sucker that was caught under it all. The mandolorian made no comment as he momentarily swept over me, with my clenched fist around the vibroblade. Rather he ignored me entirely, leaning against the bar counter and staring absentmindedly at the wall ahead of him. The scum saw this as an odd mandolorian intimidation tactic and took it to heart, growling a string of multilingual insults. I couldn't quite understand all the words from their chosen dialect, but something about a drink spilling and how it was somehow the mando's fault.

when they didn't get a response, they snorted, puffing their chest out and stalking towards the armored newcomer. Continuing to talk in another language I didn't understand fully, the bar keep attempted to translate, feeling the tensions rise in the air. "He says you spilled his drink." a moment of silence, with the smell of anger wafting from the half intoxicated bantha shaggers, And the barman attempted to diffuse the situation by offering the men drinks to hopefully get them to settle down. And by the two suns it did not. The drink slid from the barkeep's hand and down the table. The mandolorian took it out of its trajectory and started the assault, smashing the creature's head on the counter to his right and simultaneously twisting the louder man on his left arm until the knife in his hand stabbed himself in the ass. As the third attempted to run out the front door, mando caught him with his grappling wire and pulled him back. The tangled creature got his blaster from a thigh holder and shot a round at his would-be captor. The blaster fire ricochet off the bescar Armour, bringing the mando's attention to his own firearm. With the tangled assaulter in the right position, mando fired a single shot at the door of the cantina, Forcing the wiring to go into hyperactive shut down, closing the doors around the alien. The doors struggled for a moment, and so did the thing caught in it, but nothing stopped the metal and electricity from slicing through the meat of its body. The legs of the now dead man fell to the ground at the door with a sickening thump.

After this, the silence in the room was so thick you could swing at it with a hatchet and not make a dent in the shock factor. unsurprisingly enough, every patron went back to their own businesses with each other as if nothing had happened. A pair sitting at a table close to the door went swiftly to the half body to move it away to continue the flow of traffic as they then scurried out the doors, carrying the top half between them. Scavengers i bet, black market womp rats' i thought, sighing at how quickly the circle of life can flash before your eyes. death isn't something to be dewlled on in a universe like this, now back to the issue at hand.

recollection hit me like a half ton of bricks when I remembered where I saw the face of the teal looking bastard with a knife previously on his neck. Spite flooded in my blood as I narrowed my eyes at my next target, shoving my vibroblade back in my thigh holster aggressively and stomping towards the useless excuse of flesh. "You're a dead man now, Mythrol." I said to myself. he must have heard me, or possibly sensed all the rage walking swiftly at him. His eyes upturned towards me, full of fear, but I now remember there is an ugly smugness to him too. I made it to the table, putting my hands down in front of him, leaning my top body weight on my palms. "You better have a divine excuse for not meeting me at that port you Druk Nerfhearder, or you'll be seeing the wrong side of the ice ocean outside in 30 seconds." I could barely contain my frustration with this sniveling worm, he was the reason i had to bunk with the disgusting oiled engineers for a week in hyperspace. The reason I had only 12 credits in my tech vault and less than that on hand. He scammed me out of a decent ride and my entire years savings. It was a genuine miracle how well I kept myself from not leaping over the table he sat at and giving him a new meaning to crazy bitch.

"H-hey, hey you, long time no see huh, man am I sorry for missing out on that meting we had that one time, sorry pal I kinda slept in-" but before he could make up any more exuces, any more lies, my vibroblade was at his throat right where the other man's was just a moment ago. He hissed and recoiled back in his seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times, trying to breathe, to speak. whichever it was, it wouldn't matter soon. He had talked enough in his lifetime to anger hundreds of poor victims throughout the parsec, letting him one last word would be a dishonor to all of them.

Before I could press the blade into his flesh, a firm leather covered hand wrapped around my forearm, pulling it away carefully. I looked at the arm, attached to it was a shoulder, and atop the shoulder sat a gleaming bescar helmet. I felt my heart sink into the depths of my stomach, the anger switching places with feral panic that I tried my absolute best to contain. No words came from the mandolorian, a simple shake of his head was all i got. he loosened the grip on my arm, letting it recall back to my center of gravity.Ii looked down at the arm, looking for any obvious signs of damage, but his grip was closer to gentle and firm than harsh. A soft metallic thud brought my attention to the table, where the mando has tossed a puck. A bounty puck. Today was certainly a day for emotions, because T felt as pleased as a jawa coming across the flashing screen of Mythrol's face on the holographic screen projected by the puck. Mytrol looked between me and the mandolorian a few times before painting his face with a fake smile, the wheels in his head turning into overdrive trying to make a lie up to get himself out of this one. "Is that me?" he questioned, the forced denial barely hiding the fear in his eyes. "Aw come on, I can pay you more than that pitiful bounty, a whole new cruiser," he pleaded, bargaining for his life. "on me, waddaya say."

The mandolorian doesn't waste a breath to reply, his electronically filtered voice filling the getting-to-be awkward silence. "I can take you in warm." he placed a hand on his hip holster, bringing attention to the deadly gun strapped in it. "Or I can bring you in cold." Mythroll's face turned pale with fear, looking like a sort of pale blue spirit. Gulping down what could have been vomit, or another plea for life, he couldn't move at all, just staring at the mandolorian's unfeeling visor.

The mandolorian slaps restraints on mythrol's wrists, pulling him up and out of his chair in one swift motion, the disparaged lump following along with his hands bound together. He seemed resigned to his fate as he was pulled out of the cantina, leaving in his wake and eruption of whispers and a few sobs of relief from the clientele of the bar. I myself was in a state of shock by what had happened and the intense speed at which it had occurred, Standing in front of a table with drops of blood on it not knowing what to do next. Mythrol had cheated me out of a lot of money, and he was just walking away, atoning for crimes he didn't commit against me. that in and of itself felt somewhat fair, fair to any of the galaxy he had screwed over so far.

My body flew back to my table mostly on its own, smashing into the chair at which I had just been sitting less than a minute ago. I hauled my ridiculously large bag over one shoulder, the extra strap free in the wind. I knew i had to at least try. for myself. Running back to the door panel where the halfed creature had met his end, I slammed the controls urgently, opening the door back out to the wild wind of Maldo Keris. Scanning the nearby environment was hard without protective goggles to shield me from the dust and yuck in the wind, but I spotted a pair of hulking figures 15 yards from the cantina, moving at a steady pace away. Try for me, I can do this one thing for myself. I sprinted as fast as I could with the pack over one shoulder, making me surely look like some sort of lame bantha to any possible onlookers. "Wait! wait please!" I called out to the mandolorian, my tone accidentally becoming demanding, but I think that helped to get the mandolorian's attention. They stopped and Mythrol looked at the mando, as if he was pleading to get him away from me in fear I had came back just to fight a mandolorinan for a chance to stab him again. As tantalizing as that thought was, the actions I were taking were purely selfish. I deserve justice just as much as any poor sap sad enough to cross paths with the scamming womp rat or the mystery person who called for the bounty.

"Please let me come with you for when you collect his bounty." I asked somberly, stopping my chase a few paces away from the pair standing together. "I swear I wont take the credits from you, I just want to see him pay for what he's done." Tiny beads of sweat pearled at my brow, my breath was labored in my throat. Even walking with my bag was hard, but I had just chased down a bounty hunter and his captive. Strands of my hair stuck to my forehead and I wiped them away with the back of my forearm once they crept into my eyes.

Mytrhol had to get his two cents in of course, holding the bounty hunter by the cape and making his eyes go wide with worry. "I don't know who this person is, don't let them come along, they could try to hurt me!" He plead, tugging on the cape like a whiny child. Now the anger came back, a cold rage in my fists, ready to start brutalizing someone at the drop of a pin. I narrowed my eyes at Mythrol, who didst bother to return the look. the mandolorian stared for a moment, looking off behind me in thought. The worry then set in, a fear whispered in the back of my skull 'You'll never get your closure and die alone on this hell planet.' My eyes went to the obsidian visor of the mando, creasing my brows together, subconsciously chewing on my lip as he made his decision. Loosening his shoulders, he slumped his head downward, as if morally defeated. I was taken aback by the conflict he was having about weather or not to let a weird stranger aboard his ship or not. oddly enough I understood his seeming frustration, I wouldn't let me go if I were him. He picked his head up after a second, looking me up and down as if to study me entirely. I felt eyes over my body, it was weirdly intimate. When he made his way back up to my eyes, he stood in silence for a moment before asking. "Do you have any weapons on you besides the blade?"

Certainly a different question than what I thought was going to be asked, so for the answer, I had to think about it for a moment, mentally going through my bag and person. "n, no. I have my vibroblade. and a sack full of my electrician's tools, but they arn't traditional weapons." I responded earnestly, my tone going flat again. Another moment of silence, Mythrol looking quickly between the bounty hunter and myself.

"If you truly wish to see the bounty delivered, I can take you to the trade. In exchange for the ride there, my ship needs mild internal repairs. If you try to cross me," He paused, a hand went to his blaster as a warning. A flashback to the cantina entered my forethought, the image of his hand on his blaster the same way as it was now moments before a man got cut in half. The warning was received properly, I felt thoroughly intimidated. "You'll be dead before you could pray to any gods." damn. That was intense. thoroughly intimidated, to the core. i took a breath in, almost allowing myself time to rethink my request in its entirity. but i responded with a quick nod. I knew my way around most ship interiors, if the ship wasn't rusted and breaking in half on take off, i knew i'd be able to mend it.

The mandolorian gave no other word to me and turned, walking towards the ice flats docking crew. I allowed myself a cheeky smirk, fulfillment at the succession in my pursuit gave my heart a good warm squeeze. Following along behind the mandoloian a pace, he negotiated with the docking crew, asking oddly enough for a live pilot, not a droid. Some harmonic whistling came from the ferryman, hailing over a rust bucket of a speeder. As the speeder came to a stop to collect its haul, rusted pieces of under backing fell from the rear, clanking to the ice annoyingly. We all loaded into the speeder, I sat in front with the driver, the mando and his bounty in the back, a gloved hand around Mythrol's bicep at all times. We reached out frozen destination, the driver of the speeder calling one last warning to the three of us after collecting his dues and puttering off towards the port.

I took a moment to asses the hull of the razor crest, it wasn't too bad for a pre new republic vessel. Some battle scars here and there around the landing gear, a charred blaster fire mark on the windows of the cockpit. This was truly the ship of a bounty hunter. Turning to follow the speeder's course, I couldn't help but feel a deep unease, he had warned about the ice planet's personal creature of death, Ravanack. Just then, the entire rusty hull of the speeder and its driver were swallowed whole in a single angry bite. The ravanack retreated back into the ice just as Mythroll let out a girlish scream of terror. He booked it twords the mandolorian who was opening the hatch to the belly of his ship, screaming for dear life to let him in. The ice where the speeder was swallowed started cracking in the direction of the ship, very quickly speeding directly at Mythrol.

My instincts kicked in and I hopped out of the way, swinging myself onto the floor of the cargo hold of the ship with the momentum of my bag. Just as i got out of harms way, the mandolorian swung himself out of the ship to grab the petrified blue idiot only moments before the jaws of his early death lunged out of the ice, driving sickeningly deep into the landing gear of the razor crest. I winced at the damage done, scrambling back away from the flying Mythroll the mando had haphazardly chucked at me. The mandolorian seemed to ignore me entirely, herding his bounty into the cockpit with him. As the engines revved and the propellers blasted their heat down towards the ice at max capacity, the beast clung tightly to its prey of metal and paint, determined wholeheartedly to bring the ship down to its frigid death. The mando hopped down the ladder, rushing to the cargo bay door with his riffle. he stabbed the bayonet into the beast's head, sending a current of electricity into its skull. the beast roared furiously, releasing the ship and sinking back into the inky ocean.

I collected myself and scrambled up off the floor. the cargo bay doors closed quickly, leaving the mandolorian and myself in the ambient humming of the bay. His breast plate rose and fell, getting less an less noticeable as he calmed down. turning towards me. He nodded at a upturned metal basket with a weather worn blanket tossed over it. I took the hint and put my bag on top of the makeshift stool, retrieving from it my more universal tools. Going from one job to another wasn't my ideal, but this was a more opportunistic adventure. My original goal was only ever to get off the sun bitten planet i was from, beyond that was up to fate, and I can't really complain about where it took me today. Now i'm headed to gods know where with a mandolorian and his bounty who single-handedly ruined the last year and a half's hard work I had done. turning my head towards the mandolorian, I saw him stand in the hallway between the cargo bay and the cockpit, eyeing his bounty.

Words hung on the end of my tongue, ready to ask millions of questions out of pure adrenaline fueled thrill. But I stopped myself from spilling over, taking notice of the details in the mando's body for the first time. For the most feared warrior in the galaxy, this man looked as any other bounty hunter. His armor was chipped and dented, highlighting the flaws in the outer most shell of himself. A deep rooted curiosity took roots just then, desiring to know more of what laid under his iron and bescar plates. "Where should I start working first?" I asked as politely as possible. feeling a need to use respective words when in the presence of a man who just stabbed a water beast in the head. This got his attention away from the bounty if only for a moment. He paused for a second, going through the archives of his mind to see where needed the most urgent attention. Turning 180 degrees, he lifted a gloved hand to point at the panel of buttons and levers at the end of the metal room. It looked mostly in tact, but only mostly. There was blaster char at the center of the damage, near the bottom left hand corner of the panel itself. "Yikes." I whispered mostly to myself, reaching in my bag for a clean oil rag. Acknowledging the mandolrian's request with a glance and half nod, I got to work at the station. It looked to be the control panel for the gun hold under the main cargo bay. The possible stories tied with the maiming of this piece of equipment swarmed my mind, finding my own way of theorizing any number of adventurous tales.

A few minutes go by, tweaking the damaged area as best I could to fit my hands into the circuitry. Mythroll passed by quickly, entering the open door of the munitions hold to the ladder down. I got nervous for a moment, than I heard him calling back to the mandolorian pilot, talking about molting and stellar seasons. What an odd being. Slimy thieving nerfhearder. Going back to work, not questioning the reasons tmythroll went down there. so wrapped up, figuratively and literally, in the wires of the control panel, i hadn't noticed mando sneaking past me, silent as death. I hadn't noticed him, that is, until I heard the thumping and crashing of combat and the pitiful yelps of the bounty rise to draw my attention toward the lower hold. Mythroll's shout cut short with an angry metallic hiss. The fear now taking a hold of my stomach, I pulled my hand out of the tangle to look nervously down the ladder, seeing the mando start his ascent. "carbon freezing." he said simply. I know his intention was to explain what had just happen in hopes to ease my worry, but no. it worried me more. Drawing my thought to the intense reality that I was willingly trapped on the ship of a proven dangerous bounty hunter. I felt rather idiotic in that moment, the crushing weight of the situation bringing me to a moral defeat. The mando slid by me, his body language more casual than it should have been seeing as how he had just half killed someone in the hold of his ship. He paused momentarily, looking over my work. nodding, He left in silence, returning to the cockpit.

After a second, I gathered my thoughts and took a deep breath into my lungs. The reality of my life now was flipped upside down and tossed into a spinning vortex of crazy, but I know my strengths. I know myself and what i can handle. This? was obviously odd and scary and new, but the skills I cary can get me far. Exhaling, I focused my mind at the task at hand. Knowing my entire world was going to be changing from here on out was more calming than expected. The determination I felt towards my own new chapter of life soothed my aching back and fried nerves. This was going to be epic.

A/N: i'm so glad to have finally finished this, holy hell ;-;

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shishinoya · 4 years

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the mistake of loving you || k.t

— PAIRING || Kageyama Tobio X Reader — TYPE || Story [Cheese Cult Hanahaki Event] — WARNING || Pure Angst — WORD COUNT || 3.2k words — AUTHOR’S NOTE || aucbaosn so i basically took 5 days to write this and it’s one of my chonkiest fics i’ve written. ;;;; i wanna thank @cupofkenma, @kawanisshi, and @haikkeiji for beta reading my 5am writing <33 i love you all aiscbasnc

i also didnt mention the flower that kags was coughing up and it’s the [Delphinium grandiflorum] flower or “Summer Blues” || they are used as symbols of hope and tranquility and i used them because they show the hope kags has for the reader, the hope that they will return his love

“Love is such a beautiful feeling!”

“Oh, you haven’t lived yet if you’ve never fallen in love.”

“I can’t wait to fall in love.”

Love? Love sounded so unfamiliar, so distant. Like a foreign country, Kageyama understood their way of living, he knew the name, he recognized the language, but he never fully experienced the culture. The descriptions that frolicked and slipped their way from the mouths of peers, were overlooked and watered out. He could care less about something that others dreamed of - his own blinding the ability to sympathize with them. Love just seemed like a bundle of letters, strung together and people used it to label an emotion. He had no use for the sentiment; it was a waste of his energy. His effort. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. He pushed it aside. He couldn’t strap onto the idea of love.

If love was something that everyone craved for, why isn’t everyone in love? Why did some chase after it as if it held jewels and the answers to every question in the world, while others loathed the sight of it. Kageyama kicked a pebble on the side of the road as he thought about the concept once again. He detested its mention but when virtually everyone talked about how thrilling it was, it was hard to stay indifferent. Gazing at the lush green hills, he nibbled on the plastic straw that was already brutally bitten. The lukewarm liquid trickled down his throat as he carried out his trek. He didn’t have a plan, nor a specific place to go, but he was going. He basked in the rays of the sun, occasionally placing a hand on the heated brick wall that stood tall and shielded him from the gusts of wind. He should be practicing, not wondering about a useless emotion. But the mind simply doesn’t work like that.

Turning a corner, he clicked his tongue when he realized he ran out of milk and only air was exiting the straw. A scowl drew itself on his already frowning face. With a grumble and brows furrowed, he threw away the box, only to shove his hands into his pockets. The sun was out but it wasn’t shining in Kageyama’s world.

His walk skidded to a stop when a bold colour struck his eye. Strange. He glanced further, head tilted with curiosity. His eyes raked over the golden petals, the rich green stem. The honey-toned flower was only one of the many different colours painting his vision. Plants of various sizes, height, hues, were all beautifully decorated behind the white picket fence. He loomed over the edge, trying to get a closer view of the scene. How funny that a simple plant, that had no voice nor opinions, was able to entice him into noticing its beauty. His eyes darted from one to the next, quickly analyzing each flower, but then he caught onto something more than a plant, more than just velvet leaves. Something that made his breath hitch and shook his body. Something that stilled his quick eyes.

You should have seen the way he stared at you; as if you were something so unreal, something he’d never even imagined. He could watch all day at the way your hair danced to the tune of the wind. He gaped as your skin glistened at the touch of the sun. Everything about you was breathtaking. From the way you pushed loose strands away from your face, damp from the long hours under the heat, to how you poured the watering can, with grace and care. His throat became dry. He hadn’t realized that he was holding his breath until he felt a throb in his chest. Was it his lungs or was it his heart?

“Are you going to keep standing there? The plants kinda need the sunlight.” He sighed at the sound of your voice. It was silvery, clear and light; soothing his ears like aloe over a wound. He replayed the tone in his mind like his favourite song, only processing the words after memorizing the colour of your voice. He flinched. His head shook, rattling his mind to think of anything but how he thought your voice was enchanting.

“U-uh…” He stuttered, teeth clashing with his tongue. No matter how many nervous swallows he did, it was not enough to quench his desert-like mouth. Heat rose to his face, colouring it like the blush of autumn leaves.

The words fought their way from his throat, tumbling over each other, all wanting to let themselves be known by you. They lumped in his throat as he panicked to find the correct things to say. Compliments, excuses, apologies, even a simple greeting would do, so why wasn’t anything flowing?

“Hello?”

“Erm. H-hi.”

“Ah, so you do talk.” Although it was teasing, Kageyama noticed you didn’t smile. He couldn’t believe you were so close; he couldn’t believe you were talking to him. Your beauty captivated him, held his eyes in a vice and hushed any thoughts. Mesmerizing.

But your eyes. They showed something different, something that contradicted your appearance. Compared to the glow you illuminated, your eyes were dull. Drained of colour. Tired. The dark circles under your eyes only added to the fact that you had restless nights.

“Well if you’re going to continue to stand there, you might as well help me carry those pots.” You pointed towards a stack of new caramel coloured pots. He should have followed your hand, but he was more interested in your movements. So graceful and perfect that it seemed like you practiced that one movement over and over. “I could do it myself but after five hours of pulling out weeds, my arms are a bit ti - are you even listening to me?”

“Yes!” He jolted when your eyes met his ocean-like ones. “I-I mean, yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be listening to you? You’re speaking, right? So, the right thing to do is listen.” He was repeating himself. You simply nodded without batting him an eyelash. He was making a fool of himself. “I - uh, I would love to help you out, but I got to - um, you know - uh, feed… feed my pet orange…” His voice trailed off at the last syllable. He called Hinata dumbass a lot, but maybe he was the dumbass. Without waiting for your response, he took off. Tripping over his feet and wiping his baffling sweaty hands over his track pants, he didn’t spare you a glance. His ears felt hot. Was the sun shining too hard now? It was causing his face to heat up. Was it you? Did you do this? He didn’t even touch you. How did you have the power to make him feel like this?

You quizzically watched him jog - no, stumble his way down the road.

Odd.

Why didn’t he agree to help you? You could have sworn he was captivated.

You found the male interesting. He was able to find a spot in a small corner of your mind and called it his own. You questioned it. You’ve never had a proper conversation; you don’t even know his name, and yet, you wondered about him. You lightly shook your head, mentally pulling the weed that invaded your brain. A weed that might wither in your grasp.

He shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. He shouldn’t get involved with you.

But he was persistent.

Kageyama was confused. He would always look at the path he took that day; the day where he thought his eyes had been blessed. The images of the flowers would waltz their way into his head at random times. How rich they were; how bold and vibrant. It was as if he was introduced to colours for the first time all over again. The memories played like a film while he was washing dishes, going on a jog, when he was doing literally anything. The scenes of plants slow dancing, the beaming sun, you, assaulted his poor mind.

Just the thought of your hair falling slighting and framing your face, caused him to blush. He remembered how clear your skin was, practically glittering, similar to the glistening of the sun over ocean waves. Those lips. Those plump soft lips that he imagined touching, wondered how they would feel like, sound like, taste like; he wanted to experience them. Such erotic thoughts. How could he think of that when he hadn’t talked to you? He didn’t know why you were all he could think of. He didn’t understand the way you made him feel. Unknowingly, he was slowly falling into your hands.

It all happened so quickly, so subtly. He questioned why he was teased for his distant stares or his beet-red face. He didn’t quite believe that what he was experiencing was called “love”. This was nothing to what people described it as. He didn’t expect to be constantly thinking about you, to get nervous every time your image popped in his head. No one told him his chest would feel heavy. No one told him it would be painful.

A scratch tickled his throat. He tried quietly clearing it.

The scratch turned into claws. He tried silencing them with a cough.

His throat felt like it was being pierced. Dry wheezes escaped his mouth.

He coughed and coughed, each one using more force than the previous. He coughed till he gagged, wincing at the feeling. He steadied himself, knuckles white from the strength he was gripping the edge of the sink. Panting, he stared at himself in the mirror. Pale and large beads of sweat dripping down the side of his head. Another wave washed over him and his body shook.

He coughed, gagged, vomited. Repeated. A cycle that lasted until blood tainted his teeth and dribbled from the corner of his mouth. He looked like a mess. He felt like a mess. He was a mess.

The pool of sky blue petals, sticky and stained from his saliva and blood, served as evidence. It was more than enough to tell him.

He made a mistake. The mistake of loving you.

The petals were the beginning, just the start of his blooming love for you. They clung to his throat, littered his tongue, flooded his lungs, made it impossible for him to breathe. He was confused, scared even. What were these? Why did they hurt so much?

He searched for answers. He browsed the internet until his eyes burned and watered. His fingers stung from the many paper cuts he acquired flipping through books. But gained nothing; just a mason jar overflowing with blood-stained petals.

He turned to you. Surely you had some answers; something, even if it was just the name of the flower. Anything. And so he visited you. Of course, his heart banged on drums that echoed and surged through his entire body, but he needed explanations. Maybe he wanted to see your face again, but he was masking that fact with his goal for answers. He needed it to keep him sane; to make sure he didn’t overheat.

He came back? The puddle of water that soaked your sandals and your gaping mouth made little effort in trying to hide your surprise. Blinking several times, you tried to think of a reason why he was here, why he would come back to you. Was he going to try again, going to try and capture your love? Was he going to fail? Crash and burn just like the rest of them?

“Hello again.” You played passively. “Are you finally taking up the offer to carry those pots-”

“I have a… a question.” His voice trembled, you wondered if he knew you could hear it. He swallowed. In his hand, he held tiny blue flowers. “What - uh… what are these?”

“You came all the way here to ask me that?” Furrowing your brows, you approached him, ultimately causing him to tense. You picked the petals from his hand, ignoring the way he flinched and the visible droplets of sweat layering his palm. “Have you tried the internet?”

“I couldn’t find anything.”

“Books?”

“No, nothing.”

“And so you thought the girl who has a garden could tell you.” He looked away.

“Yeah. Basically.”

“Well, I don’t.” His expression dropped. “But,” You tested the waters. Would it be alright? Would it be okay to suggest this one little thing? “Maybe if you come back tomorrow, I will have an answer.”

That hopeful look on his face made a strained smile appear. Hadn’t you had enough? Are you not satisfied with the number of people you’ve tormented? How many more did you want to fall for your tricks?

let him go. but he can save me. stop lying to yourself. i’m not! it’s true! you don’t deserve it. i can change. you’ve said it before and look what happened then.

Your mind and your heart played tug-o-war over your feelings for Kageyama. Although the guilt and fear bit at your legs, slit your skin, churned your stomach, you listened to your heart. You allowed him into your house. You allowed yourself to smile with him, to laugh at his jokes. You allowed him to drag you to new places, trying new restaurants and video game cafes. Your heart wanted you to be free, but your mind held you by your neck.

you let him die. i didn’t mean to! it wasn’t my fault. yes, it was. you knew his love, you knew how much he cared for you. he only cared for my looks. you know that’s not true. would you like me to remind you? no, please don’t. too late.

Your mind loved to see you suffer, to hear those sobs of agony. It loved the way you desperately tried to wipe the tears, only making the swelling worse. It showed you the first time he met you, to when he gave you that big bright smile of his. It showed you the way he looked at you as if you were the only girl in the world. It made you relive those memories - no, nightmares.

do you see his love now? … do you need another reminder? how about your next victim?

The throb of your temple could never compare to the slap you received that day. You could still feel the sting. You could still hear their cries and accusations.

“You killed her! It was you! It was all your fault! How could you let this happen? Why didn’t you notice her? She was such a sweet girl. She just wanted you to be happy and now she’s gone. She’s gone. Gone because you didn’t love her back.”

Your knees ached. Your heart wept. Your empty stomach bubbled.

i’m sorry. please... please just stop. you think sorry is going to bring them back? to fix this mess? laughable. you think that pitiful garden of yours is going to make up for their existence? you think caring for their flowers will make up for the care they had for you? what a joke.

You were a joke, something so foolish it was comical. No matter how much you convinced yourself you were caring, that you were giving back to those who lost their lives because of you, it wasn’t enough. And he was going to be another.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered. The stars freckled themselves all over the midnight sky; one even winked at you. You hummed in response.

“Why I’m allowing myself to be with you like this.” He pretended it didn’t hurt. The familiar scraping hit the back of his throat. The flowers were getting worse. They were growing, getting larger. It was harder to cough them up. They drew more blood on their way up.

“So why do you?”

“I don’t know.” Your gaze fixating on the moon, its radiance illuminating your exhausted eyes. “You shouldn’t be around me.”

“But I am.”

“Then I shouldn’t be around you.”

“Why are you?”

“I don’t know.” You repeated with a sigh. “I don’t know a lot of things, but I do know that you’ll only get hurt when you’re with me.”

“Listen (Y/N),” he shifted his position, “No one forced me to hang out with you. I did it on my own so I think I know what’s good for me and what isn’t.” You didn’t meet his eyes.

“You know I can’t love you back.” His jaw clenched at the statement. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he searched your face for some regret or restrain.

“Am I - am I not enough for you?” He breathed out the question, afraid that it was coated too much with his fears.

“It’s not that.”

“Then why can’t I be the one? Why can’t you love me back?” It wasn’t like you didn’t have an answer, but it was more like you didn’t know how to answer.

The silence was interrupted by a fit of coughs. Kageyama was gasping. He dug his nails into the ground, not caring if mud and dirt made themselves home under them. He clenched his trachea, attempting to quell the needle-like pricks. One, three, seven flowers fell from his pale lips. He coughed until his head spun. Coughed until his arms gave out. It truly felt like he was dying while living.

“Kageyama?” You didn’t care that your indifference quickly snapped into concern. You patted his back and grabbed his shoulders. “Kageyama, are you okay?” The coughing didn’t stop; he couldn’t stop them. Several flowers littered the grass, enough to make multiple bouquets. Your grasp on his shuddering body tightened. His chest heaved. For once, you were looking into his eyes.

“They - they weren’t your fault. You couldn’t control your feelings.” So he knew. “Let yourself cave to your emotions. It wasn’t your fault.” He was too pale, growing colder. “You don’t need anyone’s approval to love. They wanted you to be happy. So go and be happy.” His voice croaked and cracked, the flowers clogging his vocal tube. His breaths were short. His lids were closing. He was dying.

“Kageyama?” You called, this time it was your voice’s turn to crack. “To-Tobio. Please. I won’t be able to handle it. Don’t go.”

“I wish I could be there for you. I wish it were me. But I just want you to be happy. Be happy even if I’m not the one making you happy.” He tried to smile. You didn’t know. Your vision was blurred.

He took one more glance at your face, still with that grin plastered on his face, before closing his eyes. You panicked, eyes wide and shaking his head.

“Kageyama?” You were alarmed.

“Don’t do this to me.” You were afraid.

“Come… Back.” You were devastated.

Your sobs turned into gasps. Your lungs felt like they were being squeezed and popped like a balloon. Your tears fell onto his still warm skin. A gulp of air was caught in your throat. It caught you off guard and you coughed. You coughed and choked. Was this how he felt? Was this how they felt? How painful. You couldn’t care less about how you sounded. You felt numb. The taste of salt and metal filled your mouth.

“What if,” It was quiet but audible, your throat too tired and bruised to be strong, “I loved you?” The single warm petal sat on the side of Kageyama’s cheek, taunting you and giggling at how foolish you were. it’s your turn it sneered.

cheesey bbs || @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @ushiwakaa @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma @kawanisshi @milkandc00kiez @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @kawaiikraykray @bubbleteaa @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei @pineapplekween @estherwritess @keiji-n @achoohq @badlywritten-hq @mochibeaa @oinkanna @chxrry-wxne @spudicide @airybby @asranomical @karmasuna @nekoglasses

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theskywaslookingback · 4 years

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7, 12, and 36?

7. do you prefer poems or love letters?

love letters. ive never been the world’s greatest poet, and honestly when im being truthful about my feelings i can hardly get any words out at all, but a letter has less structure and affords me the ability to ramble. sometimes people mean too much for words. and honestly i prefer receiving love letters as well. the care that comes along with ‘i love you. i hope this letter finds you well.’ gets me.

12. Favorite flowers?

ive never been able to answer this question straight. my answer changes all the time. yellow roses because they’re my mom’s favorite. honeysuckle because it grew wild right along the side of my memaw’s porch. bluebonnets that grow wild on the sides of the highway for miles and miles and miles until you just have to stop the car and take pictures. pink carnations like the ones on my best friend’s corsage in high school. tiger lillies because when i asked one of my tumblr friends to pick my next tattoo that’s what she asked for. sunflowers like the ones growing in field across from my sister’s house. succulents because that was the only thing my roommate and i could keep alive. cherry blossoms like the ones tattooed on my mom’s ankle that i drew in pencil when i was 16. gladiolus like the ones that my mom planted in the spring and my dad mowed down but still bloomed for another five years. pink roses like the one that another cashier at work put on my register and said ‘happy valentines day’. dandelions even though my dad said they were weeds, dandelions because my dad said they were weeds. every pressed flower ive ever been given. forget-me-nots. probably those.

36. cloud gazing or star gazing?

star gazing. i took an astronomy class when i wasa senior in high school to fill my final science credit and once a month we were required to meet in the park across from the university and the university astronomy club would let us use their telescopes and tell us what they were looking at or how to find different constellations. they met up every week and we were allowed to go whenever we wanted as long as we went at least once a month. that spring we went on a huge astronomy trip to one of the observatories in the state. we stayed on a ranch and rode horses, took hikes, and went to the observatory at night. in a large group a man sat us down and traced constellations in the air with a laser. we got to look through the large telescopes magnified enough to see saturn’s rings. i remember i saw that and i sat down next to my teacher and he asked if i was okay because i’d started crying and i said ‘im fine i just know ill never see anything like that again’. its a humbling experience to look at the universe and let it look back. lonely, too. but i couldn’t be lonely when i was surrounded by so many people who were so very happy. because even if we weren’t interested or didnt understand the science here, it was enough to just look at the night sky so vividly clear above us. i think that was the purest love id ever experienced. probably two dozen teenagers just gasping up at the stars and saying, ‘look! do you see that? i see it. what’s it’s name? what do we call that one?’ its a connection to our humanity, utterly humbling and beautiful. look up at the stars with me. do you see them? we’re looking at the same sky.

valentines asks ✨

#ask games #anonymous

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madeintimeland · 3 years

Text

im oversharing this got long sorry. just reminscing on shit ive thought about a million times over again

theres so much art i want to create and so little motivation. i should start smoking weed again bc every time im high i get my best ideas or at least like, it takes away the layer of film over my brain that stops me from being able to come up with creative ideas, but also im scared its going to send me into mental hell again. like i need to be in a perfect state for it lest i fear im going to invoke my months long existential crisis again and i Cannot be doing that shit rn. but also i wonder if its going to be worth it anyways if i can create something to leave on this earth again. like ive been so bad at creativity lately like i want to draw and produce things and im bubbling over with energy and i feel the ideas fermenting in the deep recesses of my brain like theyre nestled into the grooves and folds but i cant access them yet. and i know i can if im stoned. i might turn into a hermit hunched over my tablet all hours of the day just making shit tbh. i absorb so much of the things around me and i know if i try to make something now its going to basically be direct copies of the things i saw but if im high im sure i can actually create something new and beautiful. im scared of being intoxicated again but i was scared to drink again too and i got drunk and proceeded to love it and want to drink every single day because surprise surprise i have alcoholism coded into my dna and consequentially have an addictive personality in general. which is why i felt like my life was useless without weed. all up until i was finally able to get my hands on a stash that would let me smoke whenever i want versus when i would get a small amount every couple of months and completely and utterly fail at ratioing it out and binge it all and then have ridiculously introspective trips where id start to go a little crazy at the end (i have a distinct memory of looking at a meme that had a woman on it and thinking ‘jesus christ... what the fuck is that’ and then spiraled into thinking about how life is pointless but i didnt have enough weed to continue with that train of thought and if i did i may have had my crisis a lot earlier, it was just inevitable) i just felt like being high was the only time i could actually get in touch with my inner self again. like i used to before the thick clouds of depression and psychosis settled in. but then i finally was able to get high for longer than short bursts of time and it all came to a head where my brain broke and i have existential terror now that i feel im going to not be able to deal with confronting again. but every time i say that it never ends up staying permanently, it comes in waves, it all comes in waves. back and forth. i feel beauty in life and then i feel fear. i feel like its all worth it and then i cant stop thinking about the inevitable heat death of the universe and the pointlessness of it all. and then i get a hug or listen to a really good song and i feel like its worth it again. i wonder if this is just a period in my life im not a total stoner or if its actually permanent. anyways point is i want to make so much stuff that my hands ache and my brain rots when i think about how many things inspire me. thats why my aesthetic tag is #inspiration, its been like that for many years now, its stuff that inspires me. but at what point am i going to turn that inspiration into reality? im bad at initiative. my initiative is going to be when i pick up the pot again because im too lethargic and procrastinatey to create the things i want any other time. but when will that be? i cant see a therapist or anything rn and working it out on my own has been mildly successful, not bad, im not spending every single day in terror like i was at this point last year. it started all going away around august after starting in march. march 30th in fact. from then on its been a constant battle with dissociation. funny because just earlier in march was some of the best experiences of my life. i think if lockdown never happened this never would have happened either but at the same time im left wondering how anybody can go through their life without wondering about the meaning of it all and coming out the other side with purpose and resolve. mine was to enjoy myself and find as much beauty and love in life as i can before i die and enhance the lives of the people around me while i can because i feel too small to do anything on a grander scale. and im fine with that, for the most part, but i still get attacked by these waves of thought where i wonder what the purpose of reality is . i always have to smack myself and remind myself no dumbass you already went over this a million times, just enjoy yousrelf while youre here. but when im high its a million times worse cuz the only time i can get my mind off it is when im replacing it with horny thoughts and thats not the only thing i wanna do when im high ofc i want to experience and create and listen to music. but i mean i havent smoked since june. i think the 15th ? i could go back and read my journals to tell exactly when it was but yeah its been almost a year now and i feel like i might have it in me again. i used to love getting high and working on shit so much. some of my best works and most creative projects and honestly just most enjoyable periods of my life were when i was high. going back to what i was saying about early march 2020 being the best time of my life, idk what it was about me but i was just having a grand old time experiencing absolute beauty playing ark with my friends, feeling so creative and developing new ideas and experiences, and using the freedom and motivation i felt ingame to also want to explore the world irl. i seriously was close to actually finally reading my survival manual and start camping and shit and i wanted to visit my relatives in their hella secluded farmhouse in the middle of fuck nowhere kansas, cuz i did visit there during that time period and i loved it to death, i felt so free. two different relatives actually and they both had that same aesthetic about them. of course they were horribly racist but i mean, thats rural kansas for you. i just wanted to camp in their woods. its funny because that month was simultaneously the best and worst of my life. all because of weed! if i never started smoking or rather never found a reliable source at that point in my life i wonder how i wouldve turned out? id like to chalk this up to fate that im like this, maybe its for the best, maybe smoking again wont help me but maybe it will. i have a way to ease myself back into it i just need that leap of faith and bravery like i felt when i was drinking again. its funny because i used to be such a fucking druggie and i wanted to get high all the time and then after my existential crisis that all just. stopped. i feell ike everyone i know is sick of me talking about it but it really fundamentally changed me on the inside even if it doesnt seem like it much on the outside so i feel its right of me to talk about it sometimes. it makes me feel better at least. like this is jsut a thing t hat happened, not a fated break from the universe i cant come back from yknow? i dunno. ive rambled on way too fucking long and idk if anyones gonna read this. tldr i want to draw and create so many things and i have too many ideas to deal with but i only feel ill be able to unlock my creativity and motivation if im high but due to bad past experiences im terrified to get high again. i mean ive done and made some pretty cool stuff since then but the motivation and ideas are much fewer and far between compared to the absolute deluge i get when im stoned , whether any of my ideas are actually any good or if they were just high ramblings is up to debate but i think it gave me a really good way of looking at things and i made some pretty cool stuff and i miss it a lot but i dont know if going back to it is going to be a mistake or not and im not brave enough to find out if itll hurt me again or if im ready. yyyyaaaayyyyy hahahaha ✌

#this is literally just all about drugs and dissociation

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judehayward · 4 years

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lady gaga voice slowly fadin in: ju-Das juda-ah-ah… this depressed goblin bastard is honestly my fav male muse like i dnt typically stick w male muses tht long i struggle bt................. i’ve played him the longest of them all n always seem to return to him. jst cnt stay away. way 2 attached to this absurd little man. it’s nai btw!!!! (josefine on the main). launches right in to jude’s intro without further adieu..... (u can also find his playlist here) 🧙‍🎨

「douglas booth & cis-male」⇾ hayward , jude, the senior radcliffe student’s records show that he is a pisces and 23 years old. he is studying ART, living in moris and can be protective, laidback, nonsensical & apathetic. when i see him i am reminded of wearing a faded smiley face sticker on your forehead while receiving a serious lecture, saying “fuck off” to inanimate objects, lead marbles instead of eyes. ⇽「nai & 23 & gmt & she/her.」

he pinterest:

me in the voice of a card magician performing on the street: round up round up pick a pinterest any pinterest!

ta-da it’s aesthetics:

lead marbles instead of eyes, a stolen hearse careening down the wrong lane, wearing a faded smiley face sticker on your forehead while receiving a serious lecture, bags under the eyes that are so big they could pack enough clothes for a three week vacation, a cigarette wobbling from your bottom lip as you squint against the sunlight, passing out on a stranger’s rooftop, placing sunglasses over the eyes of a biology lab skeleton, gangling around the place like shaggy minus his scooby snacks, saying “fuck off” to inanimate objects

about tha Bitch:

born in sheffield in england, bt they went back and forth between there n san fran a lot

jude was an unhappy accident. his parents never rly used protection bc they were super Liberal n Au Naturel n believed in the pull out method bc… they were maniacs. bt then the ONE time they used a condom in an effort to b safety conscious it broke n hence…. jude was born

they just kind of ran w it bc they had such a passionate relationship tht they were like What The Hell…. may as well! itll be fine we’ll learn to be good parents n love him like normal ppl do

spoiler alert: tht didn’t work out

they were ok to him like they weren’t fully Bad bt they just found him to be a massive burden n hindrance to their plans. pretty absent n irresponsible. they literally….. had sex all day every day n acted like a pair of teenagers. it ws a super weird environment for a kid to grow up in bc he literally had no role models or… guidance or…. anything rly. occasionally they’d joke around w him or pretend they properly knew what grade he was going into but for the most part they just Didn’t Care the way parents shd. they lost his birth certificate n dnt remember what they put as his middle name so he’s jst kind of like hmmmm............. n gives himself a diff one every time ppl ask. past variations hv included: jude pauly hayward, jude maureen hayward, jude van winkle hayward. says all of these w a very straight face

despite this he does hv some nice memories w them. usually he definitely sees them fr holidays. frm being rly young their christmas tradition hs been to get a bunch of chinese food like a Banquet Feast n spend all day smoking n drinking into the early hours. perhaps not the healthiest or most responsible bt 😔 jude rly likes it it’s kind of the one time of yr he feels he has a proper family

they r both suuuuper into the arts. rly good sculptors bt they paint too n they actually own a successful gallery in sheffield n san fran

(trauma tw) as a result he grew up around a lot of creative n sometimes pretentious ppl. the friends of his parents were more present in his life than his ACTUAL parents bc they were always jetting off to diff countries to scout out new pieces fr their galleries n just have a gd time in beautiful places without…. the annoyance tht ws being responsible n looking after someone. tbh some of his parents friends were rly damaging too bt….i won’t go into that just yet. it doesn’t rly…need properly explaining bc jude never talks abt it anyway n it….is rather triggering so i’ll jst….leav it for now tbh. basically they just were Not Nice n jude had a lot of bad memories he keeps repressed bt he also??? has some gd ones..... it was a strange environment bt he’s a survivor

(death n grief tw) he hd to do community service bc he kind of… hd a bit of a breakdown before the funeral of his elderly neighbour who bsically raised him bc her kids rly didnt care abt her they jst wanted her inheritance?? so he… stole the hearse w her casket still in it n ws jst like… drivin around the place sort of… tryin nt to cry…..KJJFHSFKJGHKFG i mean. it isnt funny its actually sad bt :/ in a very bizarre n jude way. he gt caught n taken in fr questioning bt her son kind of realised hw… broken up abt her death jude ws n had a heart n didnt press charges. regardless he stil hd to do community service bc it ws like taken seriously even tho it ws his first proper offence. doin it rly exhausted n depressed him so when he wsnt doin tht he ws just hibernatin in his room……. this ws like 4 months ago nw............ just some fun lore fr u all

bc of how he ws raised he has a p cultured taste. he luvs classic lit n p much anything artsy. he can play piano 2 n sometimes gets rly high n thinks he’s mozart level gd at composing he’s jst going fking wild on the keys in a trance...... i mean he’s gd bt… chill

he’s rly sarcastic n so deadpan like he’ll say smthn completely ridiculous bt he’ll say it w his whole chest so sincere.... it’s rly hard to tell when he’s joking or serious honestly. has an overflowing secret sketchbook n if he cares abt someone he’ll probably secretly draw them. does NOT share these drawings w the person he hates being openly sentimental. at heart he is jst a very Sad Boy w lots of repressed issues like depression genuinely just does NAT giv him a single break bt he plasters over this w wise cracks n never discusses his emotions ever. he’s actually p decent or at least tries to b. he’s kind of like tht bit in superbad where michael cera gets rly drunk n makes a toast to women like tht energy...........

he has rly bad insomnia so he like never sleeps idk how he’s Alive straight up. please go to bed sir............. he always has rly sleepy eyes n rubs them tiredly mid conversation. he smokes a lot of weed to try n compensate fr this n make him tired bt he still struggles a lot

ANYWAY that aside he’s at radcliffe doing art, focusing on fine art like painting is............... the thing he luvs most...... his style is kind of.......... taking normal things n painting w surreal colours.... he likes A LOT of colour in his paintings which is kind of a stark contrast to his personality bc his world’s so.... washed out n grey............ lovs art n philosophy n literature n photography n music....

ummMMMMmm honestly idk i’m blankin on what else to say. ull find him smoking weed reading an american classic or gnawing at his thumbnail n getting charcoal smudges on all his clothes. wandering the streets in plaid pj bottoms n dr martens eating frm a cereal box without care in the world. he’s p broody n scruffy n he’s mostly here fr a laidback time....... doesn’t rly like when ppl take themselves too seriously........ likes strange ppl thinks the world is mde richer by them n likes when ppl can jst bounce back jokes at him without being like erm. u dont make sense mate. bc frankly he can come up w some strange stuff sometimes.............. talking to him cn b like navigating a dark n bendy road without a flashlight.......

(drugs tw) once did shrooms n woke up naked in the woods curled up in a pile of leaves. to this day he recounts this as his werewolf transformation. hs no idea hw he ended up there n when ppl r like are u not. concerned jude. tht is so strange? he jst shrugs like.............. dunno....................... suppose i’m jst a werewolf upon occasion. so casual abt it. jst truly does Not care abt most things at all..... almost to the point tht it’s concerning (sometimes way past the point tht it’s concerning too :/)

this is the desc on an aesthetic i mde of his style once n sums it up well!! ‘additionally: too many pairs of trousers, a hideous amount of white t-shirts all somewhat stained with charcoal, a jumper so thinly knit it almost looks sheer, chipped teale nail varnish, a cream corduroy jacket with a cigarette hole singed onto the cuff, vintage wiry reading glasses he almost never wears, a freshly rolled cigarette behind his ear, a thrifted t-shirt with a warped bart simpson wearing a stethoscope with the caption ‘bard knwos cardiology’ and two crops hacked that way with kitchen scissors that he sometimes wears to paint.‘

EXPERT at rolling spliffs like jst. mkes them so precise n neat....... it’s his super power. his fav thing to smoke frm is banana flavour papers.................... linking 2 this he’s like. bad w emotions bt he does try..... once his friend (maggie) ws sad so he brought her a spliff wrapped in grape flavoured paper bc it’s her fav fruit n jst like. wordlessly gave it to her. it’s the thought tht counts.....

PLOTS!!!!!

plays bass in a band which cld b a fun connection to get together??? i picture the music being like surf rock type like........... mac demarco...... bt he also luvs elliott smith n glass animals n the cure n metronomy n neutral milk hotel n talking heads n radiohead n mazzy star n wolf alice...................... idk jst like.... within tht ballpark i suppose i imagine it being................

mayb ppl he shares classes w?????? i’d like someone tht does a similar course n they hang out tgether when it comes to trips fr the module to museums or exhibits or wtever................ they both stand in front of paintings analysing it rly wrong n saying stuff like hmmmmmmmmm....... i do declare i see a, uh..... large phallus protruding from the centre of this image...... moves something in me.......... n some elderly person looking at it besides them is like Ergh. sickened n disgraced. leaves w a brow severely furrowed

someone he smokes w on the moris rooftop late at night when he cnt sleep??? mayb they’re up n cnt sleep either fr whtever reason n it’s become an unspoken kind of ritual where they always clamber out n find each other there n jst wordlessly keep them company

jude is kind of like. protective almost to a fault sometimes........... mayb some guy he’s punched......................... if they hurt someone he cares abt........... typically it wld hv been a girl he ws kind of like. affected by his first relationship bc she had a bad home situation n ever since jst wnts..... to Protect it’s kind of like an automatic instinct ingrained in him nw 😔 all sounds very noble n well bt sometimes it cn b a bit of an escalation i wnt lie

perhaps a few hook-ups??? jude doesn’t tend to sleep w ppl he rly knows bc he just..... likes it to b an impersonal thing doesn’t like getting attached fr various reasons so mayb they only kno each other via this OR mayb he bent his rules a bit..... cld either work seamlessly or hv added drama if one side hs mre feelings or whtever

currently living in moris w 2 roommates bt i’d love some neighbours perhaps..... mayb someone tht lives directly nxt door to his room n is like ://// bc he plays music loud n weeds always drifting frm his window n mking their room smell if theirs is open too................. or mayb they get on..... mayb there’s a rly mean seagull tht lands on a branch n poos on pedestrians n they both commentate on it frm their windows like david attenborough...... they’re like he’s at it again. they’ve named him n everything

HONESTLY anything if u have an idea hmu i’d love 2 hear it.......... rubs my hands tgether in excitement to plot up a storm w u all

#ruhqintro #depression tw #death tw #grief tw #neglect tw #trauma tw #drugs tw

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mysticsandwich · 4 years

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what was it, around may of 2014, I sold my truck and all of my camera equipment, probably for way less than what it was worth. I bought a bunch of random hiking and backpacking/camping gear and a bus ticket from orlando all the way across the country to spokane washington. I had decided to volunteer on a vineyard/family farm thru wwoof, worldwild organic orginzation of farmers. you basically work like 4-8hrs a day and in exchange you get some form of housing and food. I’d be staying in a tent and get 3 meals a day. I really didnt know what to expect except I was ready for some kind of adventure and was miserable where I was. I had no idea what I was doing and about $3k in my bank account. I was an emotional mess, duh. I rode the bus for 94 hours, it was insane. I barley slept, the bus stopped about every 1-2 hrs for bathroom breaks and stretch/snack stops. I remember leaving atlanta around 12am, the random girl next to me kept falling asleep on my shoulder and waking me up. I didn’t get off of the bus until Chicago. I had an 8hr layover to the next bus. I bought a pack of menthol american spirits and walked around downtown chicago for like 6-7 hours. it was great, besides the exhaustion. it was the first time I had really walked around the heart of a real big city in my adult life. I got on the next bus and endured another 45hrs or so of bus riding to spokane washington. god I was beat. I got picked up by leah, the woman who kind of ran the whole wwoofing operation her husband and her ran. She picked me up from the greyhound station in spokane around noon, her firstborn son, henry was in the back of her truck asleep, I think he was two years old or so. She is very chatty and friendly. she hugged me upon meeting me and was very welcoming. after almost 4 straight days on buses with strangers it was very nice. she chatted as we drove out of spokane northwest to the small town of hunters,wa. after an hr and a half we arrived at a small gas station, the first store in about 30 miles. her dad owned the store/small mechanics garage all the locals got their trucks and equipment fixed at. I met her mom who ran the shop part of the store and dad who ran the store and mechanics garage. then we headed to the farm. we arrived and i met john, leahs husband. john and leah were 30 and 29 at the time, respectively. they had a house on an absolutely gorgeous 45 acre piece of land overlooking the Columbia river, a huge river that flows from canada all the way to Oregon. the property was amazing, small mountains or hills overlooking a sharp 200-300 foot drop to the wide river. they showed me my tent spot, right on a cliff below their house overlooking their house. it was amazing and gorgeous. i set up my tent and unpacked my backpack. i had to be back at the house around 7pm for dinner. i arrived and john was cooking while leah cleaned up. henry was just running around the garden that was their backyard. their entire house they built themselves. it looked like a house, kind of slumped and lopsided but normal enough. but they built it from bales of hay, wrapped in chicken wire, with spackle on the wire to look like normal walls. hardly any wood, mostly built of hay. it was very cheap to build, john did all of the wiring and plumbing hisself and hay has absolutely amazing insulating capabilities, so it was never too hot in the summer and never too cold in the winter. amazing. the first night there dinner was salad hand picked from their garden, we all just chatted and got to know eachother. I slept in my tent like a baby, the first nights sleep in like 4 days not on a bus in a seat constantly being woken up, with the sound of the nature and river below. the next day was the first day of work and learning the farm. most of the work I did there wsa trimming grape vines with john. leah would go to the gas station/country store her parents own and work, so in the morning i’d scramble up the hill to the house and john would make breakfast for me him and henry then we’d head out the vineyard. most of the work we did while I was there was trim vines. you have to snip off the weakest vines and keep the strongest ones to get the most grapes. so everyday me john and henry would go out to the vineyard, it was 10 acres big, not very big but big for two guys and a baby. me and john would each get a row of vines, we’d go down a trim and leapfrog each other, trimming all the extra vines off. henry would sleep in a stroller or waddles around john, sometimes coming to me to hangout. me and john would usually work at the same pace once I go the process down, and we’d talk the whole day till about lunch or 1pm. then go back to the house, he’d make lunch and then we’d get a break for about 2hrs. I’d usually go down to the river or take a nap in my hammock. then we’d meet around 3pm and work on another farm project, maybe fixinga a drain or a fence, etc. then leah would come home and we’d all make dinner. these people were so kind and just took me in and included me in their lives and family and farm, gave me good advice, etc. they told me of their adventures from their earyl 20′s. they both went to new zealand and traveled and worked for about 2 years. leah was a white water raft guide and john worked on bikes. they did that and hiked thru new Zealand. they went bak to america and saved money, then hitchhiked down the entirety of south america for a year. then decided to return to leahs parents hometown and start eh vineyard. amazing people, very warm and kind and hardworking. i was so lost at this point in my life and they gave m a good goal of how I wanted to be or at least were very positive role models. so went about 2 months, working with john mostly, hanging with leahs family, meeting their friends, working hard, learning about growing wine grapes, learning alfalfa farming, hitchiking to town, reading a lot. then late june hit, and john and leah got 3 more WWOOFers. 3 girls from rhode island, culinary students on a summer road trip, wwoofing to see where organic food comes from. two were very pretty and all 3 were very nice. they set up thier tent and I became their tour guide, showing them how all the work was done, how the farm and house worked. they liked to drink and party, were all older than me. we had a good time, though my work ethic kind of went ot shit, distracted by a bunch of girls haha. it was nice to be the only guy around them. they were there for about 3 weeks and then were heading to another farm in northern california. they invited me to go with them. I loved the farm in spokane..but 3 college girls when you’re 19...duh. so they left and I said my sad goodbyes to john and leah and hit the road with 3 college girls. we stopped all over down the west coast of the country. we all went skinny dipping in a pool in portland, one tried to sleep with me and I was too stupid to realize it. huge regret. story for another time. we finally reached pescadaro, CA. an absolutely beautiful little coastal town. the farm was owned by an absolute lunatic who thought he could talk to aliens and grew a a LOT of illegal weed. all we did for about a week was smoke weed and hangout with crazy vagrants the farm owner brought in, the absolute opposite of john and leahs farm. I liked the 3 girls but I missed john and leah a lot then. I was supposed to go visit my bestfrind, Gabe, in texas at some point that summer and after a week at this sketchy “farm” I decided to leave. the girls, katie, becca and kristen were awesome and i was pretty much in love with katie, but it was time to go. so they drove me to san fransisco and I got on a greyhound bus around midnight around the end of july and headed for texas. before I left the farm in pescadaro the head “farmhand” there gave me about 2 ounced of weed as a parting gift. being 19 and dumb I took it. I put the damn thing in my backpack and got on the greyhound. I slept from san fran to LA and from La to around new mexico. more bus riding, yay. I got to el paso, tx.

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{2oz weed story]

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