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#i think it'll help even if i do have a schedule in the pinned
just-bendy · 2 years
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The Ask Box is Open!
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givemefevrr · 3 months
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Drabble.03
Pairings: Sick!Jake x Reader
Warnings: smut, nsfw, handjobs, overstimulation, pain kink, kink discovery, masochism (?), sadism (?), Jake has a cold-sore, sub!Jake (kind of), puppy!Jake, dom!reader
wc: 1.1k
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This is the second time this month Jake has gotten a cold sore on his mouth, and his hectic schedule probably doesn't help prevent them from happening again. 
It hurts you a little inside every time you see your boyfriend wince in pain when eating, drinking, or even talking at times. It hurts even more that you haven't been able to kiss him in weeks, as you didn't want to get one of those damn sores as well. 
However, getting Jake to sit still for his medication is the worst part. The staff usually even has to tie his wrists up with towels to keep him from running away. His pain tolerance is obviously not the greatest, and putting that medicine on his wounds is likely able to knock him to his knees in the blink of an eye sobbing. 
He's been back at the dorms for a couple of days now, as his sores accompanied a pesky cold that he has yet to shake—and being the good girlfriend you are, you stayed with him, making him soup, bringing him water and vitamins, and putting a damp cloth on his forehead. 
But the one thing you still need to complete is helping him apply his cold sore medicine. 
"Please, Jake," you begged, your hands clasped as if praying. "It'll only hurt for a couple minutes, and then you'll be done. Please? For me?"
Jake pouted, sniffling his runny nose and shaking his head. "No. I've said it a billion times. I'm not getting anywhere near that stuff." 
You sigh, closing your eyes in frustration. "You've done it before, and look! You're still alive, so please, let's just get it over with. It'll help you get better sooner."
"It hurts too much, though." Jake pouted again, whining in defiance. 
"Distract yourself—pinch your arm, or watch a show, or I'll sing to you. Hm, baby? How does that sound?" You tried to negotiate with the sick boy, but you could already see the rejection in his face. 
"I said. No." 
God, he was acting like a child. You wanted to just pin him down in that chair, force his mouth open, and force him to let you take care of him and get him better. 
Oh?
That's not too bad of an idea, you think to yourself, a slight smirk playing on your lips. 
So you walk closer to Jake, sitting on a chair at the dining room table, and settle on his lap. You set the bottle of cold-sore medicine on the table beside you before hooking your arms around his neck. 
"Y/n, what are you doing? I'm sick," Jake turned his face away, a blush forming on his cheeks. "And I have this sore.." 
You let out a soft chuckle, ducking your face into the crook of his jaw, licking a strip along it. 
The boy squirmed under you, his hands rising to grab at your thighs in an attempt to ground himself. 
"I won't catch anything as long as I don't touch your mouth," you whisper seductively against his skin before palming roughly at the growing bulge in his pants. "Plus, you need a stronger form of distraction, right?"
He let out a breathless whimper at your words and touch, his hips bucking up slightly into your hand in search of more friction. Fuck, this was going to be easy. Thank god your boyfriend is the horniest guy alive. 
"So," you pull away from his neck to look him in the eyes, your free hand gripping his jaw tightly, forcing him to look at you. "Are you going to be good for me, Jakey?" 
Jake's eyes looked a little bloodshot from his cold, but it only complimented the dark, rosy hue painting his cheeks. He nodded frantically, his breath coming out in short huffs. 
So you got to work quick on his pants, untying his sweats and pulling his boxers down just enough to let his hardening cock spring free, earning a small groan from the desperate puppy beneath you. 
You took his length in your hand, circling around his leaking tip, collecting a couple beads of precum before sliding down the shaft.
"Fuck.." he breathed out, his eyes fluttering in pleasure just from the first couple of touches.  
You simply let out a soft giggle at the boy's reaction, finding him too adorable. 
As you increase the speed, Jake can't help but squirm underneath you, his soft sounds getting louder as he feels overstimulated already. 
God, if he knew sex would feel this much better while sick, he would've begged to fuck you days ago. 
"Stay still, love. I can't help you unless you stay still. Okay?" You purr, to which he nodded in acknowledgment, trying his best to still himself, slightly wincing in pain every time he let a moan slip from his lips. 
"S-shit, y/n— f-feels so good!" He struggled to get out between gasps and moans, your thumb digging into his sensitive slit. "Oh god, please! I'm getting close—" 
"Yeah?" You coo at him, talking to him as if he's a real puppy, holding his chin up to look at you properly. "Is my destruction working well already, love?" 
"Mhm!" He whimpered in response, hips bucking up more frantically now. 
So you quickly grab the cold-sore medicine from the table with your free hand. "Open up for me?" You requested, and Jake happily obliged, opening his mouth wide and poking his tongue out, allowing more needy sounds to come out. 
"M' gonna c-cum— hurry!" He speaks muffled against his own tongue, desperate. 
You gently brush the medicine over the little sore on the side of his tongue, and it takes a couple moments for the boy under you to process the pain. So you keep stroking him fast, squeezing tightly, hoping you're distraction is enough to help prevent the pain. 
And soon, you saw Jake's face contortion with pain as it always did, but seconds later, he let out a series of loud whiny moans, and his cock spurted thick white ribbons onto your hand, a couple globs even reaching the bottom of your chin. He was thrashing, his hips fucking into your hand like his life depended on it—to be honest, you almost fell off of him. 
You felt a little guilty as the boy looked almost as if he was in pain as he orgasmed, but the guilt subsided quickly as his expression turned into a blissful and tender one as he panted, coming down from his high. 
"I think that was the hardest I've ever cum before," he chuckled in disbelief. 
Hm. You never thought that your boyfriend would be such a whore for pain. Good to know…
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I've had this idea in the drafts ever since that one video of Jake having to be tied up by the staff to apply his cold-sore meds came out omggggg
I hope you enjoyed!!
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weebsinstash · 1 year
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I sent an ask responding to the Izuku parts that I hope you got.(if not fml)
But I figured I should send a separate ask to talk about Miguel.
So like my thoughts have been centering on this scenario where you're his secretary or assistant because he is the CEO. He's a beta and you're an omega.
You guys have a purely professional relationship, tbh half the time he doesnt even realize you got you're heat and just finds out you called in when you dont respond. Really the only thing he cares about is you doing your work, getting it done on time, and not half-assing it.
But then he gets the spider DNA and everything goes to shit. Not only does the spider DNA give him extra abilities and enhanced senses, but it also gives him some alpha traits/tendencies.
He goes in to work thinking it'll help distract him and get him back in the rhythm of everything only to just get fucking hit in the face with your scent. Queue him rushing past because it takes everything in him not to just pounce on you.
But as I said, he only got a few alpha traits. He didnt actually become an alpha. So while he's out here wanting to just pin you to his or your desk, knot and claim you....he's completely incapable. His body is completely incapable of performing those actions and it only leans into his yandere behavior and tendencies.
I've also been think like(depending on how one writes abo), sometimes betas dont have a sent or if they do its extremely faint. Yandere beta miguel who cant even smother you in his scent because he basically doesn't have one, meanwhile you dont even realize he's changed at all because you cant smell it.
Though because he doesnt have a scent he would absolutely sneak into your house/appartment. Its basically the only upside in his eyes.
Also anytime you go into heat and have to miss work? He is immediately taking your seat from your desk and huffing it while he touches himself. Then at night as spiderman will come just close enough to be able to smell you but still not lose control of himself, absolutely getting off on your scent and sounds of pleasure from you using a toy.
God this shits been living in my brain rent free for like the last week and wont go away 😭
I got the Izuku ask :) trust me when I say I am simply dogshit awful at getting back to people and being consistent
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Picture if Reader is actually a really competent employee of his at Alchemax but Miguel like BARELY pays any mind to you because, you know, he's got all sorts of shit constantly stressing him out and occupying his mind on top of migraine, and suddenly you're going into work and bringing him his preferred coffee as usual when, he tries to make small talk? You've worked for this man for like at least a year, basically only speaking when necessary, and one day you lean over to put a coffee or some papers on his desk and that brings you just close enough for him to take in a breath of your scent which instantly helps alleviate his headaches
You're basically done giving him what he needs and you're literally about to leave the room when he suddenly calls out (almost in a "wait I need to catch you before you leave" kind of urgency) and you pause and look at him with those big eyes of yours he suddenly can't stop staring into when Romeo hits you with "so .... how are you?"
And you're just kind of stunned for a few moments because this is a man who basically doesn't speak to you unless he needs something, even when you go to him to pass along a message or something or other about his schedule and your secretarial duties it's typically just a sort of "got it, thank you" sort of response and you're sent on your way again, or given another task, so in ao forth. You basically can't get a good read on the man's personality because he simply doesn't talk to you enough or at least about anything other than work
He officially enters the Goo Goo Eyes Zone where when you like someone almost everything about them is so cute and had more meaning than it actually does and is basically finally seeing you for the first time. He FINALLY notices what kinds of perfumes/body mists you like to use to smell nice even if it's something you've worn for ages, the ways you prefer to style yourself, which little accessories or rings or whatever may be your favorite, little mannerisms you may have like clicking pens or singing little songs when you think you're along, like when you're doing something and it's you're just like occasionally singing, like he finds you washing a coffee cup in the break room all "--and its doooOooone!"
The need to learn more about you escalates because suddenly he's like "wait I've known them for all this time and never noticed all these things, what ELSE don't I know?" And it really is an obsessive infatuation. You live in a high rise where you don't really have to worry about closing your blinds or anything which is perfect for Miguel "don't you know i have enhanced senses" O'Hara to watch you from the roof of the next building over. You never lock your windows because, what's the point? He starts learning your schedule and meticulously taking all kinds of notes until it's the level of him outright entering your apartment to snoop through all of your things and potentially plant bugs and cameras
One day you're opening your window and kind of poke your head out to look at the city and you notice weird sorts of, almost gouges in the wall outside? What are those from? (Well sweetie, turns out, when you were going to town on yourself last night to relieve a little stress, he was the equivalent of like 10 feet away, clinging to your building, listening to and potentially recording every little gasp and finger flick)
But he gets SO frustrated when you're, you know polite, but, not exactly as receptive as he's hoped? When in reality he's still being awkward as fuck and you're still kind of adjusting to him paying attention to you, and it probably feels good to have him seemingly recognizing your efforts but like, you don't wanna. date him??? At least not so suddenly or anything, so he's trying to court you, but, it's becoming harder and harder to be around you at all, let alone when your heats start coming up. He could never tell before that your scent starts changing when That Time is coming around, gradually shifting and becoming something he finds differently hypnotic, something that makes him want to bury his nose in your neck while also, being buried in you period
He'll grow the balls to be more direct with you eventually, but he justifies everything by telling himself he just wants to get to know more about you, and that the stalking is just him trying to get to know you a little more, so when he sees you face to face he can win you over and make you his mate treat you better, obviously! He'll... he'll ask you out to dinner next week, he promises! But for now, he's just gonna, stay right here perched under your window, seeing and hearing and smelling everything
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dark-is-d3ad · 10 months
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You know what I was looking for but couldn't find? Ghost having fibro headcanons or fics. Gotta do it myself, then.
Disclaimer: I don't know if that would work out at all, something tells me he wouldn't be able to keep up with active duty if he had it, but anyway. Let's assume Ghost is a BAMF, and he finds a way.
• Price knows. Ghost told him when he got diagnosed, because he didn't want to be a liability in the field. He was scared that he'd get discharged. Price found him a treatment that actually worked instead. "Just check in with me if you're not feeling well, alright?"
Ghost rarely does. Only if he thinks it could impact the mission or he can't function at all, which doesn't happen too often.
• He's not new to pain, and he's got a high tolerance. Most of the time he can just push it down and ignore it, no one even suspects a thing. Or rather he thinks they don't. While most of the base really doesn't, Gaz and Soap have figured it out a while ago, and if he gets an unprompted cup of tea on the bad days, a nap break, or they go on a jog instead of sparring or lifting, it's pure coincidences. They care about him in their own little ways.
• With the infusions scheduled properly he's mostly doing really good. He trains, he fights, he's sharp and focused, and there's no repercussions from it. Sometimes he even thinks he made it all up. It's on very bad days when he clearly realises he still has it. It's there, just waiting for him to let his guard slide, and then it'll fucking melt his bones from the inside for days on end.
• Pain contributes to the scary aloof vibes he got. It does get him even more shut off and grumpy that he already is, though. That's how Soap tracks it.
• If it's really bad, he hides away in his room and sits it out. Also, he is bad at accepting help, especially when he's in pain, it makes him vulnerable. He hates it.
• Infusions fuck him up a little. It's a shit ton of lidocaine and ketamine that they drip into him slowly, monitoring it so they don't give him a heart attack. But it's just half a day, every 4 months, and then he's golden for a good while. Well worth it
~~~~~
Sometimes it gets unpredictable. This one starts out as mild exhaustion and achy joints, and at first he writes it off as just being tired from a mission. They wrapped everything up and are heading back to base, so he'll just catch some shuteye and be fine. But by the time they land, everything is amplified, too bright, too loud, uniform coarse and prickly against his skin. It hurts like he was run over by a truck. His head feels stuffed, thoughts thick and blurry; it's exhausting to follow them, words and images fading in that sick black and white fog, sentences falling apart. It doesn't make much sense. He doesn't remember how he gets to his room. The bad-bad days are when Ghost fucking breaks, and this is shaping up to be one of those at record speed. He whimpers in relief when boiling hot shower takes some of the pain away, but for mere seconds, the short break only making the return of it sharper. It soon blends into a neverending stretch of pain-pain-pain, consumes him whole. He slides on the floor, water still flowing, and just sits there for a long while, not really being ready to move, head empty.
"Ghost? You alright in there?"
"What, Johnny?" he rasps. Sounds send waves of pins and needles through his body. It makes it worse.
"You're late for the debrief, Price asked me to get ye."
"Fuck," Ghost groans. How did he forget? "Give me a minute."
He's slow, his brain refusing to cooperate with him, but he manages to dress up. Pain and brain fog make him unsteady on his feet, like if he had a bad flu. When he opens the door, he's met with a concerned look.
"Are ye OK? Ye look like shite."
Ghost hates that concern wuth a subtle undertone of care in Soap's voice. It makes him feel weak.
"I'm fine. Leave it, Soap," he snaps. It's very apparent that he's not, but walking takes all of his focus, and thank god Soap follows him in silence.
Price sees right through him, but says nothing, just gives him a long look before they start. Ghost is not really helpful with the debrief. It's become even harder to focus, and his vision blurs slightly now. He manages to add some details to the intel they've got, but it really takes it out of him. When it's finally over, his gaze is glassy and unfocused, and he sees black spots from pain. He realises he might actually pass out. He really needs to get back to his room.
He leaves last, and stumbles into Soap who's apparently been waiting him around the corner, and has to grab him not to fall over. Soap steadies him on his feet.
"Lt? What's up? Fucking talk to me." He looks almost angry.
"Help me get to my room. Please," Ghost concedes. He feels fucking pathetic, but he's not in shape to make it back on his own. His ears are ringing, vision getting dark, pain searing throughout his whole body.
Soap walks him back along the wall, hand on his back.
"You sure you weren't injured today?"
"Affirmative."
He sees things in flashes. He probably closed his eyes at some point. Soap lands him on the bed, and at this point Ghost's given up. A particularly bad wave of pain makes him groan.
Soap takes matters into his hands from there.
"Let me check ya real quick." His hands run quickly, feeling Ghost's body.
"Where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere," Ghost moans, almost delirious from pain at this point, it doesn't feel real anymore. Johnny's there in his fever dream, undressing him, tucking him into bed. He wants to protest, but it hurts-hurts-hurts, so he's just trying not to make sounds. And he fails even at that.
"Got any pain meds? Want me to get medical?"
Ghost just shakes his head. "It will get better," he slurrs, "in a few days."
"Are ye outta yeir heid?!" Oh, now Johnny is properly pissed off with him. "Ye stubborn bastard," he finishes before he storms out of his room.
Ghost pulls the mask off. He's falling through the bed, exhaustion pulling him under. He knows he won't fall asleep, it hurts too much for that, but this limbo of not thinking and falling-falling-falling is the closest to comfort he can get now. He hears the door open again.
"Oh," goes Soap stopping dead in his tracks.
Ghost pulls the blanket up to his eyes.
"I got ye something," Johnny says quickly. "Here. It's weed-based, got some real deal in there, but they said it doesn't make you high. So no fun for ye, but it should help with the pain."
Ghost is up for anything at this point, so he takes it. The whole dose is in a syringe without a needle, and he lets the oil sit under his tongue for a bit, hoping that it will make it work faster.
"Water, snacks," Soap continues. "I'll stay until it works, alright? They said to return to them if it doesn't."
"Thank you, Johnny," Ghost says quietly. His breaths are still laboured, exhales sounding more like little whimpers. He is too tired to care.
Soap sits on the side of the bed.
"Can I try a thing?" He asks suddenly. "Mum used to do it when I had migraines. Maybe it will work for ye, too."
Ghost wants to be left alone, but he also wants it to pass, and Johnny's staying for about an hour anyway. Because meds. And that thing might help, too. So he nods.
Soap puts his hands on his head and gently massages it, strokes messy blonde hair lightly, puts a little pressure in just the right places. Touch is usually unbearable in this state for Ghost, but this is somehow perfectly balanced. He relaxes into it, and exhales. Relief comes in little tiny waves, taking the edge off the pain.
After a bit, he shifts closer to Jonny's lap, burying his face in the side of Soap's thigh. That way Soap doesn't have to extend his arms, it's better. It weirdly comfortable, and deep inside he just wants to stay like that forever.
"Don't stop," comes out soft and a little muffled.
Soap doesn't.
"I knew ye had something up, but I didn't know it was this bad," he says in a little while.
"It's just a bad day."
"And how often that happens?"
"Sometimes. It's usually more... manageable."
Ghost slides one of his hands from under the blanket. Soap picks up on the unsaid, and starts to do the same magic on it. The pain fades, slowly but surely, exhaustion and emptiness crawling in its place. Johnny's presence grounds him. He's torn between the urge to shut off again and the desire to just keep Soap there forever, he wants more, he needs more. It's suprisingly easy to give in.
"Stay," he asks, half-asleep.
Soap crawls in the bed, scooting himself over. He shifts a little, getting comfortable. Ghosts moves his other hand towards him, and Johnny continues with the massage.
The blanket slips off Ghost's face. "Didn't lie about the opposite," Soap thinks absentmindedly. His heart skips a bit, when Ghost buries his forehead in his shoulder and snuggles up to him.
"Next time it happens, tell me, OK?"
He feels the nod.
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docholligay · 1 year
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Marrowbone
Thank you so much to @iscahwynn for buying this from me for my mother's birthday trip! I am happy to say this is SOLD OUT FOR THE YEAR. (And I have no idea if it'll come back next year--I don't think I have a major trip to help with) In October, I'll be doing Hero, and in November, I'll be doing Parasite. Keep your eyes peeled if a book is of interest to you, and then after I get my schedule done, there may be some other ancillaries!
This is a Spanish horror film in English. That isn’t me saying that everything inspired by a different film is stealing it, this is me saying a Spanish writer and a Spanish director made a film in English, and it is very Spanish in feel and in the sort of “scare” we’re offering up. Me putting that in quotation marks makes it seem like I don’t appreciate Spanish horror but Spanish horror is in fact my very favorite if we have to pin down extremely large and broad swaths of movie by country. However, I understand why a movie like this would not necessarily be appreciated by a lot of fans of horr or casual horror watchers. It’s pensive, it’s slow, it doesn’t have a lot in the way of actual ‘scares’ because that’s just not, by and large, what Spanish horror films DO. If someone is looking for a film that involves a lot of the American style of extreme tension and release (Which I also enjoy. This is absolutely not me dogging on American horror.) then this film really isn’t for you. 
BUT, if you love the idea of pursuit in an emotional sense, of the walls closing in and reality coming for you as you attempt to hide from it, this might be right up your alley. Is it as good as The Orphanage? No, I’m not sure I think it is. It’s really missing some of those ‘pop’ moments, like “toca la pared’ in its driving force, and I think a couple of the characters feel a little half-formed, but it is a deeply enjoyable film if you are a fan of this style of horror film
Horror is always a difficult medium because what horror is and means to people is so different. It’s like comedy, only I would argue that people seem to realize more easily that comedy is extremely personal. Horror is the same. Not just ‘what scares you’ though that as well, but ‘what are looking for in a horror? What does that mean to you?’ 
So, Me: In horror I generally want a supernatural base for a story, and I prefer it to say something, though i am totally fine with “Isn’t this fucked up?” as long as the tension is well balanced and i don’t feel insulted. I tend to prefer ghost stories where there is some sort of explanation for the haunting, as is more common in European and American stories, and truly adore possession stories. When it comes to what i like horror movies to be about, many things, but I’m very fond of memory, and history, and guilt, and what the idea of a person is. 
All this to say that in many ways, this is tailored to me. 
Jack is this axis upon which the family spins, even long before his mother dies, the stable and straightforward one. Each of the siblings has their own role, but it matters that Jack is the one to survive because in truth he’s the only one that could survive. And with his mother dead, he has to keep this massive secret. I would argue with a great many parts of this whole “We have to hide that our mother is dead to the extent that we cannot fucking leave the house in rural Maine” and as someone who has lived in rural America most of my life, I am not sure that it holds up in narrative court, but ultimately it’s not so distracting that it pulls me out of the story. It’s part and parcel of how the story has to work, though it DID make me figure out they were dead. Jack is under immense strain, though, even before they die. It’s plucking at the fabric of his mental state long before his father comes and kills everyone. 
(For all being confused by the fact that he can’t do anything until he’s 21, the age of majority in the US was not 18 (I would argue it still is not, but that’s a different post entirely) in the US until 1971, in the wake of the Vietnam War and specifically the draft. Not that he would have been in much better shape in the UK--the age of majority became 18 there only in 1969.)
But when they ARE killed, they come back to save his life (according to Jack’s version of them*) and they are all aspects of Jack. It’s important to remember that Jack is actually doing everything for himself. So, Jane is the nurturing aspect of Jack’s self, the one who cooks and cares and soothes, Billy is his anger, his ability to destroy and to kill--at the end, it’s the voice of Billy that goes, “let me do this”--and of course Sam is his innocence, Jack’s need to be protected and cared for, the part of him that is afraid and young. On a rewatch, it’s actually pretty easy to see how their personalities change to fit these incredibly broad strokes after they die, because our memories of people are not those people. They are the coastal outlines of how we remember them. Jack is saved by the aspects of the people he loved. 
I want to DO something with the idea that the family escapes England, runs from it, to come to America, and the exact same trouble that they had in England follows them here. The same murder and abuse and pain comes for them anyway, a sea between them. And the mother is from Maine, or her family is. I’m not sure what to do with all of that, but it feels like that’s so much work to simply be a coincidence. But I’m not just not sure what to do with it. I could do a whole idea about the very formation of America, about this idea that is very much a part of the building of the American idea where your history is anew the second you step over the border, where you are far enough away from the ‘old world’ that you can escape its horrors. But you can’t. It comes for you, it comes down the chimney, it kills the things you love, and is this part and parcel of the inescapable horror of Where You Come From? I don’t know that I LOVE that as an answer, it feels imperfect to me, but I feel like that’s such a very specific choice, especially with taking the money from there, that there has to be something in it. 
And I mean, that doesn’t have to be specifically about the US and the UK, you could say the same thing about Spain and Mexico, to bring it back to the writer/director, where there are so many good things about the US/Mexico, but also horrors that have been inherited from the UK/Spain, and it is impossible to live in a house that was built for people across the shore and to keep out the horrors. 
On that note, let’s talk about Tom, who is a little mustache-twirling for my tastes in a movie that is essentially about escape and memory and how we choose to live with tragedy.  I’m not sure if this has anything to do with The UK, sure, but specifically England--and this family is specifically English--and the US have a really difficult history, we are family of a kind, but we can also resist each other and be pretty cruel to one another. This feels like a kind of anger, a kind of resentment that no matter how well you do, no matter how absolutely ruined Jack/the UK is, he’s preferred for what? Suffering in silence instead of wanting more? ALSO ALSO, and I don’t know that the writers even knew this, but it could be something about how the well-being of the UK has, for at least the last 70-odd years, been tied in a large way to the well-being of the US. The two worst recessions in the Uk before the pandemic were tied to US CRISES. The recession in the early 00s, the worst in the UK since WW2, was tied to OUR subprime mortgage crisis. In the 90s? Tied to our savings and loan crisis. We are inevitably fucking tied to each other, and also we hate each other. I was going to write something else, but I’m getting off-track, and I don’t know if I think this is totally supported by the narrative, but I want to do something with Tom that is more than ‘mean antagonist’ and so I’m standing here before you with a list of recessions in the Uk going “Is this anything?”
I actually think Anya Taylor-Joy is a bit wasted here, as her character requires very little, and is mainly an accessory and an idea to everything that is happening. Maybe I’m underselling it--it’s completely possible that without Taylor-Joy, the character would become so weak and one-dimensional as to be annoying, and she never really does that, she feels unexceptional and real, and that is enough. 
This is by design, of course. WE are Allie. We immediately fall in love with the family and are kept emotionally distant from the reality of their situation. We understand things only as they come to us through Jack. We have to rely on his version of events. Remember the ‘reveal’ is through his little book. We choose to believe him, because like Allie, we love him. 
So Iscah asked me what I think of the ending and specifically what I think of the idea, as put it “that it seems to be cast as positive” that he is still seeing his family. Do I think it’s being cast as positive? I don’t know if I do. I do think it is designed to put him in sharp contrast with his mother, who has everyone step over the line and forget everything that came before, and even when Jack himself does this, it’s to forget something instant and specific. I think part of what’s it’s saying is that what his mother attempts is impossible. That our pasts and our presents are impossibly tied up in one another, and to set it aside is going to end in tragedy. And, in fairness, maybe that makes it correct that Jack’s still living ‘with’ his siblings. 
 It’s certainly not being cast as fully negative, I’ll give you that all day long, but I don’t know if I fully agree that it’s being cast as positive. It’s sort of cast as neutral. If it were cast as positive I’d argue that he would be living a richer, fuller life. When we come upon him, we don’t even really interact with him, Allie comes upon him sleeping on the porch, and wakes him up. There’s no indication that he’s helped by the haunting of his siblings. There’s no indication he ever leaves the house.  Now, could he someday end up having a good life, with something he enjoys doing, and marrying Allie, fixing up the house, al the things he’d like to do? Sure, perhaps. But also could he end up essentially always sitting on that porch staring into the field. 
I do think that is the point, actually. That he could go either way, now. That he has decided, and Allie has decided, that living with the denial of what’s happened is better than living with the reality of what has, and whatever happens after there is still up to them. He was going into town and making cakes and selling things and all that when he was hallucinating his family as alive, so there’s really no reason why he can’t learn to repair plaster and lath while Billy holds the ladder or whatever. I realize I’m being a little flippant about it, but I think when you’re dealing with being, we’ll just call it odd for the sake of casting a wide net, you can learn to live with it, and learn to be a reasonably happy person with it, most of the time. You may not do everything the way other people do, but you can learn to make it work. 
In all, I really enjoyed this movie, but I don’t know that I would say it’s a slam dunk. The characterization really leaves something to be desired, and while I am absolutely making things out of it, I have no idea how much of that is based in intention and how much of it is simply me seeing what I’d like to see. The dialogue is sometimes very stilted, and while I think the idea is fantastic, I think the execution needs a little massaging. All that said, I love this kind of movie and so I would happily recommend it to anyone else who ALSO likes this kind of movie. 
*This brings me to a very very interesting point, which is: Do they come back, or are they only figments of Jack’s imagination? You might say, ‘Well, Doc, the doctor says that he’s nuts, and even you said that every single one of them is an aspect of Jack.” Listen just because I said something doesn’t mean I’m not going to argue with it literally five minutes later, and also, this could be something that almost BECOMES a possession narrative. Is there a chance that he 
On that note, I don’t actually think the narrative believes this or backs this, because we have Allie physically and literally see his father, but an interesting idea that his father is also an aspect of himself and he killed his siblings under the pressure of caring for them. Note that I don’t think the story bears that out and I don’t think that’s the intention of the film, but it’s an interesting thought experiment. But it’s at the bottom because I don’t think it’s ‘real’.
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ganseybois · 2 years
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hi!! here’s a pynch prompt if you’d like!! adam and ronan need to decide on a wedding date ✨
thank you so much!! i hope you like it!!
"Ronan, we can't get married on April Fools."
Ronan smiled widely at him, head leaning on his hand as he looked down at Adam in their bed, laying next to one another, Ronan's hand trailing roads over Adam's bare torso. "Why not?"
"Are you kidding me? Matthew will be pulling pranks all day."
"Come on Parrish, live a little."
Adam rolled his eyes but didn't hold back his grin. Ronan had used that sentence one too many times on him to convince him to do irresponsible things, like having sex in a public bathroom, for starters. But he absolutely refused to have it work here and now.
"You know, planning a wedding is a two-person job. To have you give me even a fraction of your undivided attention would be greatly appreciated."
Ronan scrunched his nose up. "Jesus, sometimes you sound like Gansey." but then he leaned forward, kissed Adam's nose, and pressed his fingers along the hem of his pajama pants. "Besides, I'd say I'm giving you all of my undivided attention right now."
Adam laughed and grabbed Ronan's hand to stop him, pushing Ronan's body down and straddling him. He pinned Ronan's wrists over his head and stared down at him.
Ronan smiled, his eyes dark, "Oh, baby."
"Ronan, I want to marry you."
"I want to marry you too."
"Well, in order to do that, we have to pick a date."
"All right, all right. Let me up. Don't look at me like that, I promise I'll be good." Ronan did get up, but kept Adam sitting on his lap, arms circling him, noses brushing as they sat on their bed face to face. All of Ronan's playfulness was gone, and now he was looking at Adam with that same, almost unnerving stare that he had when they had their most intimate moments.
It was a deeply attractive look, but Adam often had the feeling that it was able to look right through him and into his soul. Not that he actually minded, his soul already belonged to Ronan.
"I did have an idea." Ronan admitted.
Adam kissed his nose. "A real one this time?"
"Yeah," Ronan breathed, "what if we got married on my dad's death anniversary?"
Adam was surprised, but he figured that ultimately he shouldn't have been. It was a very Ronan thing to ask for. "I think that would be nice. A summer wedding then."
Ronan nodded, holding Adam tighter. "It'll be like he's there with us, you know?"
"He is with you Ronan, you know that."
"I know," he said quietly, "but maybe he'll hear me better that day."
Adam ran his fingernails over Ronan's scalp for a little while, allowing him some quiet, and his thoughts. After a bit, he murmured, "This will work out really well with Gansey and Blue's schedules, too."
Ronan grinned at him. "We should tell Gansey he's not invited."
"If you'd like to give him a heart attack, sure."
Ronan laughed softly. "I think he'll like that we're doing it on dad's anniversary. Gansey will appreciate that."
It was funny how their wedding had included Gansey as though he was part of their actual relationship. He had prompted the conversations at Declan's wedding, was Ronan's best man, was helping plan it, and ultimately was just worked into every conversation.
Adam grinned at him and rolled his eyes a little. "As will your actual brothers."
"Oh," Ronan faked forgetfulness, snapping his fingers, "forgot about them." he cocked his head as he smiled. "Are you sure you're okay with it?"
"I promise I am."
"Good." Ronan tapped his butt lightly. "Now, let's talk about the honeymoon."
Adam laughed as Ronan kissed his neck. After that, well, they didn't get much further in their conversation.
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petrifact · 2 years
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Writing My First Adventure: The Cult of the Shard
So, I got an email from Chaosium that mentioned a "Write Your First Adventure" workshop by an organization called the Storytelling Collective, and I decided to sign up. I've been wanting for years to write my own RPG adventures and supplements, and in fact I have many, many different projects started, and at various levels of completion. I just didn't have anything finished. I hoped maybe the structure and deadline of this workshop would help me to finally finish something.
The workshop had three different "paths" to choose from: the Chaosium Path, writing an adventure for Call of Cthulhu or RuneQuest; the D&D 5e path, writing an adventure for, of course, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition; or the General Path, for any community content program. (There are lots to choose from!) I went ahead and signed up for the Chaosium Path, and in particular planned on writing a RuneQuest adventure. I didn't really know that much about RuneQuest—I had most of the 7th Edition books, and even a few books I'd bought years ago from older editions (let's see... the 3E core book, Wyrm's Footprints, the HeroQuest Hero's Book by Steve Jackson Games, the HeroQuest core book by Moon Design, Anaxiel's Roster (a monster book for HeroQuest), and a couple of boxed sets (Elder Secrets of Glorantha and Monster Coliseum). But I hadn't gotten around to reading them. Oh, I'd flipped through those old books, especially Anaxiel's Roster (I've always been a sucker for monster books), but I didn't really know the rules, or the world, or... much about the game at all, really. But I knew enough to know I was interested in it, and it was something I wanted to familiarize myself with, and this could be an opportunity to do it.
In retrospect, while I'm trying on a deadline to create my first complete adventure is probably not the best time to learn a new system and gameworld. This was one of three major mistakes that put me way behind schedule. I'm only about half as far along as I should be at this point. Still, I think I may still be able to finish on time; I just have to really get on it for the next week and a half.
Anyway, I decided to start this blog to document my progress on the adventure. That's not to say I'm going to end the blog when the adventure is finished, of course; I plan to keep making other projects if when I get this one done, and I'll keep writing about them here. (Though after this adventure is done I'm going to unpin this post, of course—I'll keep it pinned while the adventure is in progress.) To avoid dumping a whole lot of posts on the same day, I'm going to backdate my posts to the day the corresponding part was supposed to be done, according to the Write Your First Adventure schedule. I know that may make it less likely for people to run across these posts at first, but I think it will be better for archival purposes. That includes this post, which I'm going to backdate to November 1 so it'll come before the posts about the workshop (once it's unpinned) but which was actually written on November 22.
I said I made three mistakes that are going to make it more of a challenge to finish my adventure on time. What were the mistakes? Well...
As I already mentioned, making a RuneQuest adventure was... maybe not the best choice. Certainly not the easiest choice. I have tons of experience making things for D&D 5E (even if I haven't published anything yet); I could stat up a D&D 5E monster or NPC in a matter of a few minutes (maybe a bit longer for a spellcaster). Heck, even Call of Cthulhu I may not be as comfortable with as D&D but I knew the basics of the system and knew what the setting was. For RuneQuest I had to not only learn the system (which is similar to the Call of Cthulhu system, but with some significant differences and additions, and it's not like I was all that knowledgeable about the Call of Cthulhu system anyway), but also the gameworld. So a lot of my time this month that I could have been working on the adventure if I'd chosen a system I was more familiar with I've instead spent working my way through the rulebooks. I've now read cover to cover the RuneQuest Quickstart, everything in the Starter Set, the RuneQuest Roleplaying in Glorantha core rulebook, the RuneQuest Glorantha Bestiary, all the contents of the Gamemaster Screen Pack, and The Glorantha Sourcebook, and I'm currently working my way through the Red Book of Magic; after that I'm going to tackle the Guide to Glorantha, though I'm unlikely to get through that before the end of the month (it's 754 pages, not counting the index!) I think I've got a decent handle on at least the Dragon Pass area and the basic outline of its history and mythology, which is most of what I need for my adventure. But obviously it would have saved me a lot of time if I'd chosen a system I already knew and didn't have to spend so much time reading up on. (It could be worse—initially my plan was to simultaneously write a RuneQuest adventure and a Call of Cthulhu adventure set in ancient Rome, using Cthulhu Invictus! Ha ha ha no obviously that wasn't going to happen what was I thinking I am an idiot. I may still try to write a Cthulhu Invictus adventure after I'm done with the RuneQuest adventure, but expecting to do them both at once within the one-month time span was... not really realistic.)
The workshop started at November 1, so I signed up on November 1. Little did I suspect that there was actually a "Countdown to WYFA: Onboarding Series" with preparatory activities that were supposed to be completed before the workshop officially started on November 1. Since I didn't go through the onboarding activities ahead of time, I had to read through them and complete them before I started the actual workshop, so I was behind from the get-go.
The suggestion in the workshop was to shoot for a simple one-shot adventure of no more than 3500 words. It was a very strong suggestion. "Learning how to set a reasonable project scope is a foundational skill that will serve you in all of your creative endeavors." "It’s important to set a SMART (specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and timely) goal for the month to keep you accountable and to start planning for the days ahead." "Here's some tough love: if you have a habit of starting things but not finishing them, it's because you're setting unreasonable project scopes for yourself." All good advice—which of course I completely ignored. I didn't really set myself a goal of a specific word count for my adventure, and yeah, it kind of ballooned. As of the time I'm posting this, I've written over nine thousand words of the adventure, and it's nowhere near done. I am stupid.
Plus, in addition to these mistakes, circumstances outside my control made things difficult as well. I have a very irregular and unpredictable work schedule, and turned out to be particularly busy at the beginning of this month. So, yeah, I started out behind, and haven't caught up.
So does that mean I'm not going to finish my adventure by the end of the month? No, not necessarily. I've missed all the deadlines so far, and it's going to be difficult to make the final deadline, but I'm still going to try. So follow me on my journey here. Or read these posts after I'm done. Or... don't read any of this, but then you won't be reading this sentence anyway, so never mind.
Anyway, let me get on with it...
(Oh, yeah, I should mention that these posts are going to include a lot of spoilers for the adventure, so if you're reading this after the adventure is published and there's any chance you might be a player in the adventure, uh, maybe don't read these posts? At least not till the adventure is over.)
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the-closet-witch · 6 months
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wow, hi, been a while
tl;dr: in the ~2 years I've been gone I've done a lot of different types of growing and I've been thinking about practicing witchcraft regularly again. may or may not revive this blog to track it, no promises
long version under the cut I suppose
My last proper post was that ask I answered December 24, 2021. I know I edited my pinned post, but I don't remember when. The post on Litha was scheduled bc I missed it originally lol
there's a post a bit farther down about focusing on my practice before I help others with theirs, and that's basically what the absence boils down to. I'd been in a bit of a groove, and I never really stopped practicing, but my frequency and dedication definitely took a dip
here's where I maybe get unnecessarily personal, but I think a lot of it might have to do with my autism. masking is exhausting, and during my break I was having an extra rough time mentally, so I just didn't have the energy to even try
recently I've been feeling a bit more motivation, though. I was happy when I was doing this stuff regularly, and maybe it's just hindsight, but I want to try again.
Despite that, I really have no promises of starting this blog back up again. I might, I might not. If I do, it'll probably be a lot more like a journal than a guide.
whatever happens, I do really want to thank you all. Every now and then I'll come on here to check something and see all the new notes and know that I'm still helping people. Even if I'm not making anything new, people are still finding my stuff and using it to learn, and that's really,, heartwarming, I guess.
thanks for finding this kid's stuff cool :]
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trueshellz · 3 years
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Bad Doctor Event for @gourmetrat
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Warnings: non-con, bondage, overly flirting!Kuroo, oral (f receiving), rimming (f recieving), impact play, forced oral (m receiving), a bit of yandere!Kuroo, pet name (kitten)
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It started off innocent, a smile when he saw you enter the office for a check up. His hand on your back lower than you thought was polite or chivalrous. Fingers brushing the sides of your breasts or inner thighs when he manipulated your limbs. Making you strip down to your underwear each time to assess your progress. The way he stood a bit too close, so close you could feel his warm breath on your neck. The way your appointment was always the last of the day, leaving you almost alone with him in the large office.
You thought you were just being cautious or over-thinking things. I mean, he was a professional right? He had a degree in sports science and physiotherapy with years of experience. He'd seen so many bodies that it probably didn't even matter anymore. Seen one, seen them all right? There was no way he was being anything but ethical and moral when he treated you... right?
He wouldn't smile at anyone else like he did to you, it never reached his eyes. He would walk in front of his other patients, but always behind you. You would overhear other patients talking about how they wished he did weekends and late evenings... which were the times he would schedule your sessions. He seemed very hands on, something you thought was part of the treatment plan but found out wasn't something he did with anyone else. Your sessions were always in his office, in the corner away from everyone. Whereas everyone else's were in the sports centre where the main equipment and machines were.
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"If you strip down to your underwear and lay down, it'll give me a chance to see how your body is moving today."
You stopped, hands almost moving automatically to do as he said. Breath caught in your chest as you watched him close and lock the door, shut the blinds before typing away on his laptop while he waited for you. Contemplating your options as he scribbled something down, opting to just remove your leggings instead and keep the rest of your clothes on. Hopping up on the table just as he walked in, eyes downcast as he focused on the clipboard in front of him.
"So, today I- why are you still dressed?"
"I thought this would be fine. I'm almost 100% now so I don't think I need a full check up like before."
You waited.
Eyes boring into his as he placed the clipboard on the side table, his arms caging you in as he leaned over you. You could see the flicker of gold in his hazel eyes, shifting backwards to create some space from him. A gasp when he held the neckline of your top and tugged your forward again. Veins and muscles in his arms bulging as he pulled the neckline down, ripping it as his mouth covered yours. Swallowing your cry of outrage and fear when he held your wrists, pinning them behind you until your tits pressed against his chest. His other hand holding your chin in place so you stared straight at him.
"What did I say when we started? You do as I say and I will help you get better."
"But-"
"Did I say speak, kitten?"
"But-"
"I have no issues shoving something down your throat to stop you talking. You want that?"
You shook your head, eyes wide in fear as he chuckled darkly. The friendly, warm Kuroo was gone and replaced by a sadistic, almost crazy person in front of you. You could feel tears welling up, a lump in your throat when you forced yourself not to cry and focused on the wall behind him as he quickly made work of your clothes. Looming over you as he laid you down one hand pinning your wrists above your head while the other ran down your body, moving your legs to 'check your flexibility'. Your eyes screwed shut, still trying to move against him when started to undo the front clasp of your bra.
"No, wait... stop it-"
A sharp slap on your ass made you yelp and stop, body stilling as you felt something wrap around your wrists. Cracking an eye open and looking up to notice kinesiology tape binding them together, somehow Kuroo had lost his shirt too. You could see his muscles flex as he tied your wrists up. Small shakes as you felt tears running down your temples, breath hitching when he ran a thumb across your lips before moving in to kiss you. Even when you tried to turn your head, fingers gripping your chin as he took your mouth. Tongue pushing past your unwilling lips, his groans when you made a noise of protest and wriggled, except the motion brushed your nipples against his chest and made you gasp.
"Kuroo... stop. Please."
You shrieked in surprise when his fingers pinched your nipples, holding them tight as your back arched towards him to levitate the sting. His face buried in your neck as he inhaled loudly, tongue licking a long strip up your neck as he groped your breasts. Hand moving down your body, between your legs as he parted your folds, you whimpered when he stroked you lightly. Shaking your head when you realised you were getting wet, traitorous body responding to his touch. Wetness pooling between your legs, easing the way for him to press a finger, then two inside you.
"So tight, kitten. You're doing so well... responding so well. Such a good girl for me."
Pulling you down the table, Kuroo spread your legs wide using his shoulders to keep you open. Tugging your underwear down and away, he licked a stripe from ass to clit, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. He had thought about this, dreamed about this for weeks on end. Imagined how you would look all spread open for him, hands bound letting him have his way with you. Spreading your pussy with his fingers, flicking your clit with his tongue as you tried to stifle your sounds. He couldn't help but groan as your essence coated his fingers, licking it away and sucking on them as he fingered you again. Pressing two fingers into you as he curled them, fucking you like he would with his cock soon enough.
"Lemme hear you, kitten."
You shook your head, lip caught between your teeth as you forced yourself not to react. His fingers moving inside you, the squelch as they pushed through your juices increasing in speed until your back arched and he forced your first orgasm from you. Sobbing freely now, you turned your head away from him to focus on the wall next to you. You felt his fingers trail down to the cleft of your ass, moving away from the intrusion until you felt a new sensation there. Warm, wet and prodding at your hole, thumbs holding you open.
"You don't behave kitten and I'll take this ass instead."
He wouldn't?
You must have said it out loud because you heard him chuckle, dark and low almost a growl as the vibrations quivered against your skin.
"Oh, I would. Lemme hear you. Wanna hear those pretty noises from your mouth, moan for me kitten."
Shaking your head again, you felt tears run down your face as he pushed a finger into your ass. Eyes locked with yours as he curled it slowly, forcing you to feel every inch of his long digits. Leaning over you, hand braced by your head as his forehead touched yours. Moving the long finger slowly, thumb hooking into your wet pussy as he pressed them together inside you. The feeling foreign and weird, your heels digging into the leather to move away from it. This time you couldn't help the small whimpers escape your mouth, seeing a wide grin cover his face as he stared down at you.
"Good girl. You can do as you're told, can't you kitten?"
Removing his fingers, Kuroo moved to the head of the table, shucking his shorts as he did. Moving your hands to rest on your stomach, he gripped his cock in his hand. Stroking it up and down a few times, from your peripheral you could see the thick length, head flushed red as he thumbed the tip. Dragging you until your head hung off the back of the table, he held your nose until you had no choice but to open you mouth with a loud gasp.
"My turn now. Gonna fuck this pretty mouth. You better take it, kitten. Bite me and I'm gonna fuck that ass of yours."
Grasping your tits in one hand, Kuroo pushed his cock into your mouth with no warning. Head thrown back as he felt your wet mouth encase it, feeling you hiccup and choke sent a shudder up his spine. Massaging your tits as he began moving his hips slowly at firs, letting you breathe a little before thrusting back in. He felt the wetness of your tears against his thighs as he fucked your throat, dragging his fingers down until he reached your wet cunt. Rubbing your clit in small circles he could feel it pulse, clenching around nothing.
"Needy little pussy. Look at it trying to suck me in. Your body wants me, doesn't it? It knows me so well, doesn't it? I've trained it to respond to me."
Each sentence was making him thrust deeper inside you, widening his stance until he pressed his dick down your throat. Feeling your throat close up, seeing your feet stamp in opposition and hearing your sob loudly. Pulling back, he could see your chest heaving as you gasped for air, rising and falling as you sucked in the much needed oxygen. You barely caught your breathe before he pushed back in, deep strokes that were just shy of you choking, forcing you to take a large gulp each time to stop yourself drooling. His fingers still alternating between massaging your breasts and rubbing your little clit in tight circles. One orgasm had made you pliant, open and wet, limbs heavy and body sleepy.
Kuroo suddenly pulled out, rubbing your lips almost sweetly as he moved back towards your legs. Crouching to rub the head of his dick between your folds, tugging your further down when you tried to move again. Grasping your hips in one hand as he held your leg over his shoulder, pressing the head of his wet dick to your equally wet opening, your hands pushing against his abs fruitlessly. You could feel the stretch and burn as your body yielded for him, his head dropped low with moans coming out his mouth.
"Why... why are you doing this?"
You tried again, hands tied but fingers scratching at his torso. Anything to make him stop what he was doing.
"Because you're mine. You were mine as soon as you walked in, you trusted me to look after you, help you get better and that's what I'm going to do. No one will ever take care of you the way I will."
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boilingheart · 2 years
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cw: suicidal thoughts //
idk how to do a read more on mobile sorry otherwise I'd crop it. I told myself I wouldn't vent about shit like this heavy and personal online anymore but I'm not doing so good and I need to put it somewhere
I'm not very healthy and I'm not very happy. I'm not doing so good mentally. Financially things suck really bad, I've been eating one meal a day for the past 3 months and I can't fall asleep until it's at least 5-6AM. I fixed my sleep schedule last week and it only lasted 2 days. It's almost 9AM that I write this and I haven't slept
My shoulder hurts again and I think it's because I got lazy on physical therapy. I'm scared ill dislocate it again. I hurt my knee at work last week and I hurt it again a few days ago and right now the whole muscle is swollen and sore and tender and I limp when I walk. I'm 24 and I feel so breakable and weak, I have no muscle, I'm too fucking tall, and I feel like any one of my bones are going to pop out of their sockets. I still have to go to work and get my license and do other things but how can I if my shoulder feels so weak? It's recovering from a dislocation still but it feels like it got worse, not to mention my trapezius has been getting pins and needles daily for no reason and no treatment has worked and my doctor doesn't know what's causing it
Somethings wrong with my skin too. I think it's eczema, I hope that's all it is, but it's the worst it's ever been. My whole left arm is completely discolored and dry and itchy and it's starting to spread on more of my body in ways I've never seen. I'm scared it'll get to my face next
I am so so uncomfortable. There's no space in my house. There's 5 of us in one house and we all fucking hate each other and There's 3 animals and there's no food and even if there is I'm too scared to go out there to eat bc my parents sleep in the living room cause there's no space for them anywhere and they fight daily and if I pass by one of them I'll aggro them and get stuck in a 2 hour lecture of some alt right bullshit or terf shit or thinly veiled misogynistic or racist takes I can't stand it
You know that phrase you can lead a horse to water but you can't force it to drink? I'm the horse. And I don't want to drink anything. I know all of my problems. I'm not working on a single project because I have no discipline and no motivation and unmedicated ADHD that's so bad it makes me wanna fucking end it. I have so many things I want to do but no drive. I'm passionate about things but not enough. I'm not going to sleep early I'm not eating or drinking I'm not exercising or doing physical therapy I'm not going for walks and getting sunlight I'm not maintaining myself beyond brushing my teeth every night, and showering when it's time to go to work and doing my job as required. I know everything I'm doing wrong. I know that what I'm doing is making everything worse. I know that I could be making it better for myself. But I dont... care anymore? I shouldn't be scratching my arms but I stopped caring about that I just want relief and I don't care the cost. I stay up late and let myself cause I just want the satisfaction of finishing this video or whatever it is I'm doing. Everything is numb. People will tell me what I need to be doing so I can stop and I'll know they're 100% correct and that I need to listen but I don't. I don't have it in me anymore for some reason. I don't know why it's so hard to just so it. I don't know. I don't know if it's executive dysfunction or depression or disassociation or what.
And thing is. I've told myself years ago I'd never kill myself. Cause like, I have so much I need to do, so much on the line, people I need to take care of, things I want to do, a lot of things to live for. I wrote down a list of things to live for that took up 2 pages, and it helped me a lot. Kept me centered and focused. I am not allowed to die because I have so much on the line. I am not allowed to.
But recently I found myself looking at this list of mine, of thinking about all these things, and... it invokes no emotion in me. I look at my long ass list of reasons to live and it does nothing for me. I don't care about them anymore??? It feels so empty. And I know that's bad. But I feel so detached and removed. I am in constant pain and constant stress and I can't lay on my right shoulder anymore cause it hurts and that sucks cause that's my favorite sleeping position, I'm always hungry and I'm always tired and I wake up at 3-4PM always and I have so many things to do to write to draw to create to record but it's not enough. It's not enough anymore. Nothing is enough. I have no drive or motivation. I don't have anything to look forward to. My goal is to move me and my siblings out of this house next year as an escape because I know this household is so unbelievably horrifically toxic and abusive that it will LITERALLY kill us if we stay here longer so I feel bad and selfish giving up before getting us out of here bc it's up to me to make sure I get us out. But I don't want to perform all this maintenance on myself anymore. I'm too lazy and cowardly to fully kill myself in one go but. I don't want to try anymore. I want to give up. I'm very very alone and I don't have irl friends and I have such a horrible way of communicating with people/friends online that I have. I keep everyone at an arms length I don't know how to be friends or reach out, I don't know how to navigate in a social space if I'm not an authority figure like a mod and that's a whole other pack of problems that comes from my inferiority complex. I don't know. I don't know. I need to say this somewhere and I'm sorry for anyone who's reading this and seeing how heavy and personal it is. I meant to stop doing this shit online already which is why I've been silent so much here but. I can't do this anymore. I'm tired. And I don't know what to do. I need help but I know that I'm the only one who can help myself because I'm the horse and I need to drink but I don't want to. I would rather drown in it. I would rather drown and I don't know what to do. I know it's bad and wrong and unhealthy all of it but I just can't stop I can't stop. I am not okay. I need help and I don't know how to get it. Nothing is accessible out here. I'm a tiger in a cage and I'm going to die here. I'm letting myself rot and decay. I'm going to die here.
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elytrafemme · 2 years
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mare do u have any advice for making friends in school
hi! preface that i'm maybe not the best person to ask on this since most of my classmates i've known for 2-6 years, depending. so it's been a while since i've had to make friends from scratch.
since it's start of the school year, one avenue you can always take (which is never the most fun because small talk isn't fantastic, but at the very least it's somewhat useful) is trying to find someone who you share a first class with and asking if you can see their schedule, what grade they're in, etc. from there usually how that goes is that if you can befriend that person, you either (1) will interact with some of their other friends and then can fractal from there into developing closer relationships or (2) if they don't have many other friends, you two can become each other's friends and that's pretty cool.
depending on the grade you're in i feel like a lot of people first day of school are pretty apprehensive. sometimes when we're talking junior senior 8th grade year they start getting bored more than apprehensive but there is still like. camaraderie.
i also think the compliment avenue is underrated bc while it doesn't guarantee Friendship i think it's like. i mean worse case scenario you tell someone something nice and they feel happy. so like. it's not a backfiring thing really. if you're going to compliment someone, various ways you can go about it that actually spark conversations: (1) if they happen to have a sticker/pin/shirt that references some kind of musician or band, compliment that thing and then if you know the band say "I love that band! what songs do you like?" or "I don't recognize that band, what's it called?" (2) if they have painted nails or dyed hair, compliment it and then ask if they dyed/painted it themself, and then if they say yes compliment it again if not then ask where they went to do the thing. (3) in general I feel like if you compliment something kind of specific you're more likely to get a conversation out of it, like if you go "I like your earrings/phone case/water bottle/necklace/shoes, what's your name/where did you get it?" that's a valid strategy.
cafeterias suck and are sensory hell but if you can like. go to a table that seems Mostly empty but is still probably going to wind up with other people there, you can probably end up finding someone to talk to. usually i find that smaller round tables get filled up by defined friend groups, longer rectangular tables can fit at least 2-4 different social groups. valid conversation starter is finding someone or two people who are sitting alone, going, "Hey, is anyone sitting here?" and then sitting beside them. when it's larger groups it's sometimes more intimidating but if it's like one or two other people that usually bodes better.
okay strategy that is very circumstancial but has worked for me at LEAST once: if they have some kind of keychain/sticker/phone case/shirt/whatever that is referencing something cultural, that is a FANTASTIC place to bond with people. usually those people will very clearly like that sort of thing and will want to talk about it! one of my current good friends i met bc i had a danganronpa phone lockscreen in freshman year, and while i think commenting on lockscreens is sometimes a bit invasive, in general this is a good strategy. even if you don't know the media, maybe they can tell you about it!
also if something funny happens first day of school (usually it'll be like, some kind of class confusion, school intercom breaks or some shit, etc.) you can always like make a joke about it to someone you're sitting near, and there you go. shared experience!
those are my strategies, i'm sorry if they aren't super helpful :( i'm probably better with specific situations if that would be okay to share but that's like, in general what i would advise. i'm not the best to ask again because for basically most of my school life ive known the pool of people around me, which has been a major source of comfort but i also know isn't like the most easily transferable experience.
best of luck! here for u if u need anything else :]
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notfeelingthyaster · 4 years
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Imagine (based on the incomplete fanfic Son of the Underworld) (Son of Hades! Percy AU) (5/5) or (5/10)
Hey so, this is the last part of PJO - I follow into HOO, so before you read this, check on the masterpost - and read the warnings before proceeding :)) Good reading!
Annabeth comes to him, at the end of his fifteenth birthday party, and shows her Daedalus laptop. There's a document open in it, and it's labeled Achilles' Curse.
Percy doesn't read it - he hates reading, in any way or form or language - but she does, out loud.
"I'll think about it"
They have a year. Most of them, even those who aren't year-rounders, are going back to camp, to draw battle plans and stock on the armory.
He feels kinda selfish - for a whole five seconds before he remembers he'll probably die next summer, so he just shrugs it off - Percy deserves this year.
They all leave to go back to camp. Nico seems conflicted over something - but Perseus doesn't question it, there's enough bad blood between them.
Paola is really cool - and Sally really loves her. It's kind of bizarre at first, to see his Mom dating his teacher - and of a subject he hates - but Paola is calm and well-tempered and she laughs at his stupid ass jokes.
He visits Persephone afterward - and it really feels like he has three moms to fulfill his lack of a father - well, he is absolutely grateful for the women in his life.
Percy isn't truly in good terms with his father. The man doesn't really seem to care much for him as a person - he is much more of a trophy son.
Perseus loathes being a trophy son, but at least he has someone to help with his powers - not something a lot of half-bloods can claim.
So he goes back to school with Rachel, and they pretend everything is normal. He tells her about his quests - all three of them. He thinks she understands him better now.
He opens up to her. Tells her about Annabeth - the adrenaline-fueled kiss - and Rachel stops talking with him for a week.
She apologizes when she comes back. She needed to figure some things up - firstly, the redhead tells him she is probably asexual - and maybe aromantic too, but she is not certain because the internet wasn't really clear about that.
Then Rachel confesses that she is not jealous of him in a romantic way - she is envious of his friendship with Annabeth. Percy is her first genuine friend that really appreciates her.
This is the first grudge Perseus lets go for real before it even takes place - Rachel didn't leave him because of teenage drama, she ignored him out of confusion. Everyone is allowed space - he knows this better than anyone.
They don't kiss anymore. Not because Rachel doesn't like it - no, she is all for it - but because Percy is starting to think kisses should mean something - he is saving them.
They kiss once - when Rachel father calls for the first time this year - not to ask about her, but to tell Rachel he found this amazing all-girls school. To Percy, kisses mean comfort.
They cuddle a lot, though. These past few years of fear have made Percy very touch-starved.
It's sophomore year - and Percy is in five AP classes: Macroeconomics&Microeconomics, Statistics, Calculus AB, Physics 1, and Comparative Government and Politics.
He is planning on taking both AP Computer Science classes, Psychology, Physics 2, and Calculus BC next year; leaving only Electricity&Magnetism, Mechanics, Chemistry, and World History for his senior year.
If he lives, he is working on a tight schedule here. He doesn't know what he wants yet - and if he is in constant danger, it's already pretty lucky he can do high school - but probably something with Math.
Rachel says fourteen AP courses are ambitious - that he'll burn out. But math comes to him easily enough - it's in his blood.
She is also overworking: She is taking AP Environmental Studies, Art History, Drawing, 2-D Art and Design, and English Literature and Composition.
They complete each other. Rachel is planning on taking as many Art, History, and English courses as she can - he is taking as many Physics, Math, and Science as he can handle.
(She is also going to take on Japanese studies for some reason - probably for her GPA, but Perseus just teases her that she is getting too invested in anime)
Perseus doesn't care about languages anymore - the only languages that matter to him are C++ and JavaScript now.
They study together, they take naps together, they climb to the roof together, they flee school to visit Sally together - he is the Pinky to her Brain, the Scooby to her Shaggy, the Lois Lane to her Superman, the Robin to her Batman.
They look like troublemakers - They are honor roll students, but she is always with ripped pants dirty with paint, and he is always full of flowers everywhere, even in his muddy converses - a cliche to kill all cliches.
They're both nerds - he is the classic one, all polo shirts now, the first chair for every number-related class - and she is the artsy one - there's a brush behind her ear and her hair is so messy that half the time it covers her face.
Paola gifts him a pair of cheap frames without lenses once - saying it adds to the aesthetic - he totally uses them.
Persephone just makes him flower-crowns, and giggles when he matches them with his polo shirts.
When winter comes, he goes back to his hoodies and sweaters and gloves - to find out he doesn't miss them a lot.
Rachel introduces him to polaroids - and they look eerily pretty in the winter, her hair looking like blood spilling over the snow - and he loves it.
If he survives - he can feel Rachel slapping him - when he survives, his college credits will be remarkable. The idea of doing SATs makes him want to cry - reading always does - but he'll get somewhere good - he knows it. Perhaps Stanford. Or NYU. Or the dream of his life, MIT.
He is living his life to the fullest - he starts reading comic books, he gets really (really) into Tony Stark once Iron Man 1 comes out (even if he has to kill at least three monsters just to go to the movies), he plants trees and Rachel starts teaching him how to play her ukulele - but half his mind is still on the upcoming war.
Christmas vacation comes - and he goes to visit Camp Half-Blood, before heading back to his mom. It's quite memorable, if only by the fact that Nico Di Angelo freaking betrays him.
He tells Percy to come to the Winter Solstice with him. Most of the campers are not going - the war effort is in an all-time high - but Percy has never gone before. Hades will be there - it'll be great!
Perseus should absolutely be less surprised with the outcome - seeing that Nico is inviting him in Cabin 1, post-dinner, and they don't even stop to talk to Chiron about it.
But Percy goes. Because Percy wants to make amends.
There's no time to really talk to anyone. They travel in Blackjack for the Empire State Building - and it's fine.
They go up to Olympus, Nico shows him everything in the god's land, the temples are a work of art, if not kind of old, and the meeting is kind of okay, even if the gods are squabbling children.
Then the gods leave, and Perseus thinks they're leaving too.
"My father needs a word with you"
Perseus feels the betrayal claw on him. There are no shadows in the white hall, there's no way for him to escape. Nico looks apologetic - Percy wants to clock him in the face.
"He promised to tell me more about my mother" Nico pleads "He will tell me more about where I've come from. Please, Percy."
Nico is cute. He is, for a soon-to-be fourteen-year-old. But his pretty face and exquisite white eyes don't make him any less of a freaking liar. All his handsome male straight friends betray him - it's a worrying pattern now.
He muses for a second that they also all have a crush on Annabeth - gods, the blonde attract the worst types.
It's double-crossing - Percy ends up in an all-white cell that burns his retinas without any weapons because Zeus wants praise in the middle of this freaking war - doesn't matter if a hundred demigods die, if he only has the glory.
Nico ends up with barely any information - Zeus didn't promise anything. The god of the skies is a lying-ass motherfucker - literally.
And Zeus justifies it - He says Perseus is a criminal because he awakened Typhon. So Hephaestus issues a quest so he can save a hundred demigods, he destroys a powerful titan weapon of doom, and he is the villain? Sure, Jan.
Perseus writes this grudge in his heart - that's where trust will take you. To a cell. Betrayed by a "friend". Again.
He flinches when Nico comes into his cell, pins him to the wall and promptly begins to try and strangle him. He wants to melt in the boy's shadow - to go and never give him a chance to explain - but he looks so guilty Percy waits for his repentance.
The son of Zeus saves him, but Perseus is still pissed off. The god of thunder has threatened to kill him off at least two times now, what is to say he wouldn't have killed off Percy for the sake of glory?
He half hopes Zeus had killed him off. The war is close, too close - Nico wouldn't be the Prophecy's child. There would be no child. Olympus would fall - and Percy would have seen it all from his very comfortable couch in Elysium.
He wants Kronos gone - but he kind of wants Olympus to fall with the Titan.
Nico flies him down to the Earth - the elevator is monitored. Zeus has left, like many others - not to bother with the war effort against his main enemy, but to go to the human world mess with people.
Some gods are doing something - He has heard from Annabeth that Artemis is leading the widest hunt ever, with her brother by her side; Hermes (with Hephaestus help) is delivering Celestial Bronze, other metals, old schematics and a whole lot of fuel to Camp Half-Blood every few weeks; Poseidon is fighting his own war, in the ocean; Dionysus is at Camp - and this time, he is really helpful with the battle formations; Demeter is on the Underworld - Chiron seems to think his father is preparing for war, but Percy sorely doubts it.
Percy is taking some people with him to Sally's Christmas dinner. Just Annabeth, Clarisse, Rachel, Connor, Travis, and Charles - people who don't have a present family to celebrate it with.
Grover is coordinating the dryads up in San Francisco with his second cousin, Gleeson Hedge - they are the first to fall if anything goes wrong in Mt. Othrys.
"I think you should stay." He tells Nico.
"You don't trust me anymore." It's not actually a question.
Percy doesn't trust the boy. Not at all - it's the third time he does something shady to achieve his ends based on emotional turmoil. But he is a good person - it's just his father's cursed temper and his grief.
"It's not that. You're needed for the war effort."
Both of them know it's a lie. Percy doesn't care - he deserves to be bitter a little longer.
Percy goes back home. Christmas is amazing - even if Rachel asks him where Nico is because he is talking about making amends with the boy for a while now.
He goes visit Persephone - but she is occupied, so he wanders through the Underworld after Bianca di Angelo - someone he, for some reason, never been able to reach. It's a pointless endeavor by now.
He finds her. Or else, he finds a shadow of her - she is blocked from his view. Bianca doesn't talk to him - they weren't close - but she guides him to a girl.
Her name is Hazel Levesque.
She seems lost - like most ghosts - but something in Percy calls for her. It's the color of her skin and the sparkle in her golden eyes - Hazel remembers him of himself.
He promises to visit more - even though he doesn't think she'll remember it - and leaves to go back to the surface - he will finish the sophomore year.
And Percy does. After a very distressing break, he is doing his best. His grades drop a little in English because he can barely focus - half his mind is on the war and Nico's betrayal and Hazel Levesque's golden eyes.
Miraculously, his GPA doesn't fall - he still is taking a ridiculous amount of AP classes, and barely has time to breathe - dark circles grow under his eyes, and he looks like a mess - but now he is a Junior.
That's why, as soon as the year ends, Rachel takes him on a road trip with Connor. They go all the way to Boston, then Portland, Quebec, Montreal, Ottawa, Syracuse, Baltimore, and Filadelfia, before going back to NY.
They are stopped five times by the police - because Percy is black, and it's Rachel driving the Camaro, because she has a learner's permit and Connor is, somehow, an approved license holder.
They are on a pier, enjoying the view of the beach. They did the last week alone because Connor wanted to go check on one of his cousins - at least, that's what he said, with an over-exaggerated wink that both Percy and Rachel ignored for the sake of their sanity.
She tells him about Clarion Ladies Academy - but that her father is at least mildly happy with her GPA this year, even if he disapproves of her Art focused AP classes. Percy thinks Mr. Dare would love him, with his APs on Economics and Politics, if only he was rich. And white.
This time, when Charles Beckendorf arrives in a Pegasus to tell him it's time, Rachel doesn't kiss him - she justs hugs him and makes him promise to call her.
Perseus doesn't go to the Andromeda Ship - he is needed in Camp. He is useless on the water - but they do need him to improve battle strategy.
Charles Beckendorf is dead. Thalia is the one to tell them - she was in her father's palace helping with a monster under her Lady's orders - he went on the mission alone.
Percy talks briefly with Beckendorf's ghost - is his worst developed power, and he can barely hold the "seance" for more than a few minutes. He does it with only Nico di Angelo for witness - the others are the way to close to the situation.
There's a spy passing information to Luke.
They look at him. Doesn't matter how much he does, he is always the first suspect - he is a son of Hades. He was friends with a lot of people on the other side. He was gone for a year and a half, who knows where.
Perseus wants to say that he has helped to save their asses four times now - that without him in the Labyrinth, they would all be dead right now - and that Charles was basically his older brother.
Then he points out he wasn't even here - he had no idea of any plans of anything - and he told him about the spy, so he is not the freaking spy, go point fingers at each other instead of him.
When they start yelling, he stops them - this is not the time, he was just angry at their accusations. They have to burn Charles shroud. Silena is inconsolable - Percy is not very far from it, but he is not a public crier. The last time he cried in public, Luke was dead on a cliff.
Percy speeds up the line for Elysium to Beckendorf - his brother deserves it.
They read the prophecy together - Perseus already read it last summer, he doesn't even care anymore. They look at him anxiously - no one has forgotten that he abhors most of the gods.
Clarisse and Michael Yew fight, but Lee Fletcher - with a mechanical arm built by Beckendorf himself, still re-learning how to shoot arrows and forever incapable of playing the guitar again (but the keyboard is not ruled out yet) - stops them: They can share the chariot. The war is more important - is not the time for petty fights.
Chiron shows them Typhon - and Perseus has a sliver of hope that they can destroy Kronos and be free of the gods at the same time - It's a horrible hope, because he loves Persephone and some of them are even okay sometimes, but he really wants Zeus to go to Tartarus for at least a century, so Perseus doesn't meet him again in this life.
But he also wants the gods to win, because there's a lot of dead people - innocents, people who have nothing to do with this war.
He dreams of Rachel. Rachel is painting Luke - and Percy wakes up crying, for the boy the gods took away.
Annabeth takes him aside and reminds him of Achilles' Curse. He is off to May Castellan's house - the last place Luke has been - for it's his best and only chance, its what Annie thinks. And she is scarcely wrong.
Perseus hates the gods. They wrecked a family - and for what? May Castellan - forever waiting for a son that will never come back, haunted by visions of his future, plates of burned cookies everywhere.
Perseus doesn't pity her - he rages against the gods, who brought madness upon this woman and then left her to it. Where was Apollo, the god of health? Dionysus, who is supposed to control mental health? Artemis, whose job is to protect women?
Hestia is kind - but she is still a goddess. She could've prevented this - but she hides in her hearth and abstains - and that's enabling. Hestia enables the other gods to do as they please, even when she is the oldest. She says they ignore her - oh well, she ignores them right back! He has no time for the laments of another all-powerful being.
So he goes to his mother and asks for her blessing. Then, just to be sure, he asks Persephone's too.
He thinks about his anchor - where does he want it to be in his body. He doesn't want somewhere in his back - where he can't see it - or in his gut - where anyone can stick a sword. He settles for the bottom of his back - where he can at least touch it and it's well protected by armor - and dives.
Perseus hates water - and he has an uncanny fear of drowning. He feels pain - everywhere, horrible pain.
His vision now doesn't have Annabeth's face - the blonde is his link to the demigod world, Persephone is his link to the Underworld and his mom is his link to childhood - but the person who grounds him is Rachel.
He is stronger. He feel his powers at his fingertips - Perseus feels the Underworld as a whole, and it's overwhelming.
Green flames explode from his hands. Flowers made of shadows curve around his ankles - he has been training since he was 12, but now his body can sustain all of his power. This is all his.
He goes meet with his father - Perseus manipulates him. He tells Hades he'll be the hero, but the god himself can be praised for more than being his father. That he should join the battle against Typhon - That's his chance of proving himself. Also, there's less paperwork for him if there are fewer dead people.
His father is amused with his blatant bribing, but he thinks about it, Percy can tell. In a way or another, he excuses himself and goes back to the surface where he is needed.
Persephone stalls him. She asks him to stay, just for this night. He can go back in the morning - he sleeps, and dreams of Rachel again, drawing in the sand. In greek.
He is scared for her - she is having demigod dreams, but she is mortal. Something is wrong.
Typhon is getting worse - and Kronos draws closer to NYC. It's time - he calls for Blackjack and leaves - Mrs. O'Leary, who has become more or less of a mother to his own hellhound, follows. Persephone promises to convince Hades.
They have about sixty campers able to fight heading for the Empire State Building, and five healers. The ones too young to lift a sword or string a bow stayed back at Camp with Argus - fifteen children between 5 and 9 years old.
Percy knows he looks different - he looks just like his father. He has gained a godly aura - he has no scars anymore, no imperfections. Perseus looms over all of them - he went from 5'7'' to 6'2'' - it's a weird view, from up there. It's still strange when they look at him with a mix of fear and admiration.
Perseus Jackson is officially their leader. He hates Olympus - but he will give his life to defend every single one of his demigods.
The vision Hestia shows him just makes him want to tear this throne room with his bare hands - Luke was a kid. He was a kid - and the gods corrupted him. Thalia was a kid - and the gods took her life, twice. Annabeth is still a kid - they all are - and she is here planning battle strategies.
Annabeth missed an extra year of formal education - while Percy is a Junior, Annabeth barely qualifies for a Freshman - because the gods took this from her too.
Percy rages. The ground of Olympus trembles beneath him - he wants to kill something.
Then Hermes appears - like this whole war is not his fault in the first place, the literal bastard - just to relay a message from Athena that gives them a plan that Annabeth was already putting into works and tells Percy to stay away from Annabeth.
Like she cares. Like Athena has ever, ever, done anything for Annabeth.
Perseus can't punch Athena, so he punches the messager (also, because he freaking guilt trips both of them about Luke). He has nothing to lose - he is going to die by the end of the day anyway, and they need him too much.
He has punched a god before - Ares, in a desert in the middle of Los Angeles - but this time, it's satisfactory. He feels good after it.
Hermes seems strangely resigned - He feels guilty about Luke too, but Perseus doesn't think it's enough. It'll never be enough, not while the gods leave their children to rot in a cabin of rejects and May Castellan bakes cookies for a son that will never come back.
Hermes leaves, ashamed. It's only fair, Perseus thinks. They all should be ashamed.
They see the city asleep - the prophecy is in the works.
Perseus executes their strategy - every cabin is covering a tunnel, with the exception of Dionysus, because Pollux is with the Demeter kids, and the Hecate kids stay behind to use spells to overlook the city. Lincoln Tunnel is getting covered by Ares - who, this time around, is actively participating.
The undetermined who didn't desert are with Hermes - and the minor god's children are divided by specialty - most Hypnos and Morpheus children follow him directly, but the two sons of Iris go with the Apollo Cabin.
Annabeth executes Plan 23, automatons, mounting on Mrs. O'Leary (who has strict orders to take Annabeth anywhere she wants without stopping to play around) - she doesn't need his help with this, and Percy has a tunnel to defend.
That left the rivers uncovered - until Thalia appears, with magical sand money, and made the rivers cooperate.
The hunters join the Aphrodite kids - who are half a dozen children between 11 and 19 - the oldest being Silena Beauregard, who uses a crossbow that looks exactly like her immortal half-brother's one.
His bridge is completely covered on skeletons - but no monster comes, even if he hears explosions. He leaves an English Lieutenant from the Battle of Yorktown in command of the bridge - with Tyene, the oldest daughter of Morpheus, to be in alert and don't let Clovis sleep through the battle. Because he did it before - and while it is funny, it can't happen right now.
Perseus mounts Blackjack - and go see where the noise is coming from. It's the Williamsburg Bridge - where are most of Apollo's Cabin.
They fight - and Percy almost cries when he sees Luke, who is not Luke anymore. Luke, who is a puppet controlled by Kronos.
Perseus kills the Minotaur and the weight of his stone spikes collapse the bridge - and Michael Yew dies. This time around, the bridge falls silently into shadows, and he doesn't bother about searching for the corpse - he saw the boy falling, and his screams will haunt all of them, forever.
This time around, Annabeth is not there to protect him - Ethan also doesn't try to kill him. The Son of Nemesis doesn't leave Kronos side for a second - but there's regret in his eyes.
After the bloodlust is gone, Perseus collapses - Will has to bride carry him back. Overuse of his powers - he summoned skeletons and produced shadows, melted enemy swords (with the bonus of incapacitating them without killing), and sprouted stone spikes everywhere - there's even a vine or ten that he used to hold his friends from falling.
Perseus doesn't sleep quickly enough to not hear the yell of anguish that comes from Lee Fletcher - the pain of losing a brother and not being able to fight beside him.
But he does sleep - and he dreams. He dreams of Hades killing Maria Di Angelo, not Hera, like Zeus told Nico. He dreams of Zeus cursing the Oracle - and he seethes, because he also sees what happened to May Castellan.
He keeps getting angrier and angrier at the gods - it's building inside of him. But his friends are still here, still fragile. He can't let them suffer more.
Perseus wakes up, checks on everyone - most everyone is either injured and/or exhausted, but he checks on every camper. He knows all of their names, their ages, their cabins. - and promises to sit up to talk with Thalia and Nico - war makes him prone to peace - and promptly goes back to sleep.
He dreams of Rachel. He wants to scream for her not to come: but she'll anyway.
Perseus dreams of a boy. He is his age - maybe a little younger. His hair is blonde and his skin is whiter - but Percy glances at his eyes, and there are waves in them.
There's a girl by his side - she is familiar to Percy, somehow. They're climbing a mountain.
The dream ends and Percy can't make heads or tails of it. He asks Thalia if she has a brother, but she says that she doesn't, looking wistful.
Prometheus is tempting - but he knows there's no Luke anymore, there's only Kronos. And the gods are horrible, vile and immature - but they never killed any of Percy's friends. Some of them died for the gods - but never by their hands, so for now, Perseus would toe the line.
He does want to punch Hermes again. He takes the Pythos - if everything goes wrong, he will not hesitate in going down for the sake of his friends - but there have been six deaths, and it's enough.
"Was it worth it?" He asks Ethan.
"Alabaster is alive" And it's all the answer Percy needs.
He dreams of Ethan and Alabaster. Alabaster is alive, yes, but he is missing half a leg - courtesy of Clarisse herself. Luke - Kronos - is indifferent, and Ethan curses the daughter of Ares - "The sword that took from us will take from you"
He contains Hyperion with his shadows. Then he helps Grover (who was half asleep, because of Morpheus) to make the Titan into a tree. It's a pomegranate tree - then he sets hellish fire to it and sacrifices it to Hades and Persephone.
A pig is in the sky - this time around, Annabeth and her frightening army of automatons kill it with Nico's help.
Perseus laughs - because Annabeth has about two hundred automatons under her command, Martin Luther King and Alexander Hamilton leading the charge with a giant bull being ridden by the Mad Hatter behind them.
It's weird to see historic figures Percy admires - like Jane Bolin, Sylvia Mendez, or Abraham Lincoln - fighting alongside people he downright despises - Thomas Jefferson and the goatfucker, herpes-ridden, Colombus. His Comparative Government teacher would have a field day.
Annabeth and Nico's pair up is amazing - They fight alongside like they have been doing it all life.
Nico is a force of nature, flying and commanding the winds to do his bidding - His eyes shine in the midst of the stormy clouds. His specialty is weather manipulation - he hasn't had much success with direct energy or electric discharges.
Annabeth has her mother's tenacity for war - and her clever mind for strategies. It's clear in her eyes - she is racking the weaker points of the Clazmonian Sow in her mind and destroying it. The automatons hold the pig in place - and she makes bacon of it.
Hercules couldn't do it. Nico and Annabeth can, because they have the power and the mind.
Perseus is still fighting off monsters - but they're too widespread, so they retreat to the doors of the Empire State Building.
Percy does a mental tally: of sixty-two campers, six are confirmed dead, twenty are injured and nine are out of commission on exhaustion. There should be 27 orange shirts here - but there's only twenty.
Percy wonders if the seven missing are injured, or dead, or under a pile of rubble somewhere with no one to help them. Is there someone being slowly eaten by monsters? Is there someone alone and injured and abandoned? He doesn't know.
He prays that those seven deserted them - at least that means they probably are alive and well.
Perseus looks at Phoebe's grief-stricken face, and he knows it's not probable - she had almost three dozen hunters with her, and now there's barely fifteen still fighting, Thalia nowhere to be seen.
They prepare for their last standing - Percy keeps conjuring skeletons, but they're no match for the sheer strength of the hyperborean giants. Nico is shoulder to shoulder with the Stoll brothers against a group of telkhines - Clarisse is bringing down a whole giant by herself.
After the Party Ponies save them - Chiron leads the charge against his own father, and Perseus is so proud of his mentor he can't even put in words how much - he goes to sleep. Fighting gets him tired quickly, and they'll come back.
He dreams of Dionysus. Perseus is not fond of any god who is not Persephone, but Dionysus is mostly okay sometimes. He seems to care about his children.
Perseus couldn't care less about the Western Civilization - but he'll care for Pollux. It's one of his demigods, after all, and Underworld people are possessive of theirs (i.e. Hades and Persephone).
He dreams of Thalia, in her father's palace, begging Poseidon to leave the underwater war and help with the invasion - His wife is none too happy with the presence of his immortal bastard daughter.
He wakes up to Rachel's helicopter falling - how is Rachel even awake, is a mistery.
The improbable pair Nico and Annabeth strike again: The girl knows how to fly helicopters, and the boy can fly himself. They save the redhead and the pilot - everything is fine.
"You're not the hero"
"Why did you risk yourself to tell me something I already know?"
Rachel doesn't explain - she can't. But she has a vision that says that he is not the hero. The hero of what? Perseus has no idea. But there's no way any of his cousins is dying for this stupid prophecy.
Suddenly, there's a drakon there. Rachel has another prophecy - Perseus fears she will walk the path that led May Castellan to destruction - that only a child of Ares will be able to kill it.
Bad news: All children of Ares are otherwise out of battle.
Clarisse is resting after a nasty concussion - and her brothers and Apollo's children are fighting yet again because Lee Fletcher is in no condition to stop them and Michael Yew is dead. Ares' side refuses to fight without the chariot - which Cabin 7 has hidden somewhere.
The best they can do is fend the drakon off until a miracle occurs. And it does: Clarisse, in full armor, manages to lead her brothers into battle.
Clarisse is dead. Something shatters inside of Perseus - and he leaves the drakon for the Ares' children to solve - he can't kill it anyway - and starts to vaporize the army behind it.
He is so caught up in bloodlust, that he almost misses Clarisse slaying a dragon. Clarisse, who has no armor. Clarisse, who is alive.
Ethan's curse rang true - Clarisse's weapon took something from her.
Silena is a traitor. She is also dead - which makes her a martyr, and probably going to reunite with her boyfriend in Elysium.
He remembers how easy is to fall for Luke's charm - he was - is - still in love with the guy. Percy thought the son of Hermes could do no wrong - and he wonders how much of his rage against the gods sprout from his influence.
Something evil inside of Perseus's mind tells him she deserved it. It tells Perseus that better her than Clarisse - but he shuts it down, and concentrates on his shining red friends.
He hates Ares. But he might just have an okay side if he can produce such a magnificent daughter.
Silena is the Patroclus to Clarisse's Achilles, and the Drakon is Hector - and the daughter of Ares is sure to parade its dead body.
It's the first time they feel like they are winning. It doesn't last - but as he hugs Clarisse tightly, he thinks he might cry of relief.
Clarisse looks tough - but she is a wonderful human being. She loves Silena with her whole heart - even more than she loves Chris, her best friend. Silena might've been in love with Charles - but she and Clarisse? They are soulmates.
The damned Pythos is following Perseus - and he is done with it. He knows where hope will survive best. Rachel wants him to give it to Hestia - but he owns the fire goddess nothing.
She has never interfered, not once, to help the dozens of demigods with no family that is abandoned in Cabin 11, and he won't forgive her for it.
He sacrifices hope to Persephone because that's what spring is. Spring is the hope of a new life. Maybe, Perseus thinks, it'll convince his father to come.
They go down to make their final stand against the forces of Kronos. There's not a lot of them - but they're not getting through those doors.
Well, his father doesn't come. But Poseidon does, with his whole army, Tyson and Thalia behind him, and the scales seem to turn.
And then Kronos cuts the barrier. Perseus can see his Mom (why is his Mom here with a handgun?!) and Poseidon fighting against the monsters under the eyes of extremely confused mortals.
Some are trying to break the barrier - but it's futile. Kronos has corraled them like sheep for the slaughter.
It's just him, Grover, Annabeth and Nico, fighting against Kronos vanguard - which is big, but not as strong as they are.
Kronos passes him without resistance - Ethan follows, but there's anger in his eyes - not for Percy, but for the monster he is leashed to. Alabaster is not there.
As soon as Kronos powers stop working on them, the four follow the titan - and some things never change, no matter the universe.
This time, it's Nico who falls because of Hera - it's her curse over all of her husband's bastards.
Ethan takes one look at Perseus, and they don't even need to fight. They have been friends for longer than they have been enemies - and they both loathe the gods, but Kronos is as much of an all-powerful controller being as any of the Olympians.
They battle against Kronos - Perseus has only his ax against his scyther - a true Underworld fight.
Ethan dies. And Perseus bloodlust consumes him - it clouds his eyes and he can only keep fighting.
"If... if we've had cabins... and they had thrones"
It's true, and more than ever, Perseus wishes Kronos wasn't such a bastard. He wouldn't bother killing the gods - but the titan is a way worse option.
"LUKE, PLEASE" It's Annabeth. He doesn't have her faith - she didn't saw his transformation. But he tries anyway because he loves Luke just as much as he hates Kronos.
"Luke, remember our summer" But his words are caught up in his throat when the titan throws him against the wall.
But the amalgamation of his friend and an all-powerful being looks confused, so props for his genius best friend.
Kronos shows them a rainbow message of Typhon - and that's where Perseus it's pretty sure he starts liking his father.
Because the Lord of the Dead opens up the earth and gets out in a black chariot guided by skeletal horses like a king. By his right side, is Persephone, in armor battle as a queen should be. By his left, is Demeter, who looks every single bit like the matron she is supposed to be.
Behind him, a hundred thousand dead roars. Charon is mounting Cerberus - and literal hell is unleashed upon the Father of Monsters.
The gods strike down Typhon, sending him back to be locked away - this time, in the depths of Tartarus instead of Mount Etna.
Kronos gets mad. Utterly, undoubtedly mad. He talks about burning Luke's body. Then he hurts Annabeth and breaks two promises in one fell swoop.
"Luke.... remember family" It's what Annabeth utters, but Perseus, already certain of their own demise, is crying now.
"That summer Luke, you promised to never hurt her again. You remember it? YOU PROMISED LUKE!!"
Annabeth's promise was already broken - he had hurt her, all those years ago, in Mt. Othrys. But the promise he made to Percy - that he would never hurt her again - is new and broken, in the river Styx no less.
Luke regains his own body, for a minute, and Perseus runs to him like a man in a desert with no water.
"Please, please tell me there's a way to undo this, Luke, please, please"
"There isn't one, Percy" And it's the first time he hears Luke call him Percy, Percy and not Perseus, in his own voice, in two years. Percy cries.
"We... we don't have much time, hellebore. Give me Annabeth's dagger. Before he... before he takes back"
Luke calls him hellebore and it makes him start crying all over again. He gives him the dagger - and Luke kills himself, taking Kronos out with him.
Luke doesn't need to ask if Percy has ever loved him - Percy kept loving Luke, one-sided as it was, even when Kronos was there.
He still crying over Luke's body when the gods arrive. Luke is dead. Ethan is dead. Silena is dead. Michael Yew is dead. Charles is dead.
He lost three of his best friends in two days. Ethan is dead. Luke is dead. Luke is dead.
Perseus can't stop crying. They take Luke's body away - but he can't stop. Annabeth explains what happened to the gods - most of it, anyway. Apollo says he is in shock - his father says he is a hero.
Perseus doesn't feel like a hero. Was this all worth it? Was it worth it the pain and the death and the suffering?
Persephone touches him - and he has no tears to cry anymore. She can't hug him here, but she'll do so later.
He stares at the walls, listening to his friends being awarded - compensated by their siblings and friends' deaths - with a blank stare. Perseus wants his mom.
They call for him. He raised his head but doesn't bother getting up. He just saved their asses - for the fifth time in a roll. He deserves to grieve.
They offer him immortality. A place between the gods.
He laughs. Zeus looks murderous, but he can't stop laughing.
"My apologies, but I have to refuse," he says. But in his mind, he is thinking about how could they even think he might want to sit between them and be an all-powerful being, be another god ignoring his children and messing with mortal lives while thousands die for him.
"Promise me, on the river Styx, that you'll give me the wish that I want."
They promise him, that if it's within their capabilities, they shall grant him his wish.
"I wish for every child at the age of twelve to be claimed. I wish for cabins in Camp Half-Blood, for every single minor god, and my own father. I wish for Calypso to be free, and to the demigods from the opposite side of this war to be given amnesty. It's not their fault. It's not any of our faults."
"You dare to-" Zeus begins, but Percy is really tired of Zeus.
"We fought your war, we won your battles. We, the unclaimed and rejected stowaways of Cabin 11. We, the children of minor and Underworld gods. We deserve respect. Just like my father deserves a throne, just like the minor gods deserve justice."
"Don't you fear us?" Athena asks, something weird shining in her eyes.
"I thought I would be dead today. At least if I die now, I'm dying for something I believe in."
It stays unsaid that he doesn't believe in them. The other demigods look at him worried - but he is not afraid of the gods.
They grant his wish. Some of them aren't happy with it, but they have to do it. He meets Calypso at the front gates of Olympus - and her smile can brighten the pits of Tartarus. He sees Alabaster talking with Lou Ellen - they are both crying.
He thinks it's the end - it's not. Thalia tells him Rachel left for Camp in her Pegasus - and his father has lift the curse, the Prophecy is gone, but he fears for his best friend.
Perseus is too tired for shadow travel - he does it anyway. He flickers, but anyway, he is too late.
It works. Rachel - his best friend - is the new Oracle. Someone jokes they can't be together anymore and Rachel lifts an eyebrow.
"We never were. Didn't you see the last few hours?" Well, he did out himself. Mostly - they might say it's just friendship, and he will hate the way they twist it. Luke wasn't a villain, and Perseus isn't a pure hero with a heart of gold.
Perseus is healing from lost love - and Annabeth is too. His crush on her was only a crush, he thinks - She is his best friend first and foremost. They cry together at the bonfire that burns away the shrouds of 43 demigods - from both sides - and 16 hunters of Artemis. Their souls all rest in Elysium now.
Alabaster comes back to Camp and helps his siblings to build the new Cabin for Hecate, full of spelled blocks and magic chimneys. Clovis and Tyene have their hands full with their own cabins - it doesn't help they keep getting sidetracked with naps.
Somehow, Nico, Thalia, and his bond over helping construct Cabin 13 - They are both way too invested in the goth vibe, mostly because Cabin 1 looks like a temple, and Cabin 3 looks like a beach cabin. And both of them are so over it.
Perseus doesn't want a goth cabin - he is fighting against the aesthetic for years - but sometimes, there are no arguments. His Cabin is made of black marble, and there are skulls everywhere, with torches shining with green fire. Outside, at least. Inside, it looks like Persephone's garden, with input from the queen herself. It's ready just shy of the end of summer vacation.
Rachel tells the next Great Prophecy. Perseus isn't such a positive person to think it won't affect him - he hopes at least it'll wait until he is done with High School.
That night, he dreams of the blonde boy again - it's his first night without nightmares since the battle. He has a scar in his lip, and his green eyes pierce Percy's soul. Perseus wonders if they'll ever meet, wonders if this boy is one of the Seven of the Prophecy.
But alas, Perseus lets it go. The summer is over - he is sixteen, somehow. He is alive and going to go back to his mortal life and his junior year, and grief. Not everything is fine - but eventually, it will be.
It's not the end. Not yet.
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karasunoloomer · 3 years
Text
only shallow (haikyuu!! band au)
chapter 1: first impressions wc: 1.5k synopsis: yachi hitoka joins a band. envy and tinnitus ensues. masterlist an: literally just a passion project of mine i'm working on to pass the time. a lot of call outs to my favourite bands will come sooner or later. self indulgent? entirely so. do i care? yes but pretend i don't
read under the cut!
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This was it. She could hear the band from the outside of the house; a consistent, yet disorganised stream of music thumping against her ears, growing louder as she steps closer to the front door.
"Yachi, you can do this!" The blonde girl tells herself. The cocoons of nervousness in her stomach kept at bay for the past week, had finally emerged as butterflies. She'd never met these people in real life, spare talking to the drummer on the phone, and a million possibilities swan through her mind.
Would they like her? Will she be good enough for them? Was this a ruse for a money laundering scheme, or worse a sight for a potential kidnapping? She had work in just under half an hour, and being kidnapped was not factored in to her schedule.
Trying to shake the intrusive thoughts off her mind she knocks on the door. The music continued. Okay. They just didn't hear her. She takes a deep breath, and knocks again, louder this time.
"Oh shit I think that's her!" a voice behind the wall exclaims and the music stops. Thirty seconds later and the door opens with a boy just taller than her popping his head through. "Yachi?"
She nods as he unlocks the screen door in front of her, "Come on through, we usuallly practice in Tsuki's garage. It's just down the hallway!"
His eagerness and enthusiasm prompts Yachi to recognise him as the one who had taken her call. To be honest, she still didn't know what had come over her when she decided to answer the ad. It was just so happened that one night, while she was on the closing shift, she spotted it. It was hand written, stuck on the community notice board snuggled in a spot beneath the lost pets and above the second hand cars.
Looking for a bandmate to jam with :) Musical experience is preferred. We're looking to make it big, so commitment is key. If you're interested call the number below:
Yachi did have musical experience, although it was more polished than the DIY vibes she got from the advertisement. Learning piano, at the request of her mother, for twelve years did come in handy on rare occasions. She hadn't played in front of an audience since her first year in high school, so she didn't have the performance skills for a live band. But on the other hand, she thought, the years of lessons and sore fingers had to account for something, even if it was just playing chords on a keyboard. This wasn't like the proper, school recitals. This was a band. Where she'd have creative freedom and make friends and jam out.
Her life was at a stalemate at this point in time, the hope of university was still there, although Yachi had to first endure the drudgery of work. Joining a band would bring some flavour to her routine, and encourage her to get out and talk to people; people who weren't her co workers or entitled customers. With this in mind, Yachi pulled one of the numbers off and placed it in the pocket of her apron.
Which led her here. In someone's garage, staring at a bunch of boys she'd never met in her life. The butterflies were going crazy by now, and she was trying her very best to stop the word vomit from coming up.
"Everyone, this is Yachi, she answered the ad," the ginger announces, the enthusiasm in his voice ever present. "I'll introduce you to the guys first! The one who looks really scary is Kageyama, he plays guitar and is a super genius."
Yachi spots a black haired boy with a stern look on his face and her knees nearly give way.
"...The tall guy is Tsukishima and he plays bass. Don't worry if he's mean, he's like that with everybody."
Tsukki nods at Yachi.
The ginger boy then points to the person checking cables, "That's Tadashi, he's our vocalist and sometimes plays tambourine."
Tadashi pauses his work to wave at Yachi. She meekly waves back.
"And the best for last," he gestures to himself. "I'm Hinata and I'm the drummer!"
Yachi gulps. They looked so sophisticated, and so scary, something she couldn't pull off in a million years. "Hi everyone," she murmurs softly, failing to meet anyone's eyes.
"What instrument do you play?" Kageyama asks, failing to recognise her nervous demeanour.
"Oh um, I used to play piano, and I know that piano players aren't really needed in bands a lot but I figured I could play keyboards or help out with musical composition." The word vomit had started, she knew it wouldn't help her case but she continued anyway, "You guys don't have to let me be in your band if you think I'm too bad at it or anything..."
Kageyama cuts her off, "You play piano?"
Yachi nods.
He looks at Hinata, a pissed off expression on his face. "Hinata, we needed another guitarist."
Guitarist???
"S-s-sorry Kageyama I forgot to put that on the ad."
"Shoegaze bands don't need pianists. The guitars are the most important part. Does she even know what shoegaze is?"
She didn't. Yachi's heart sinks, the nervousness replaced with the sting of disappointment. As Kageyama and Hinata bicker, the two trying to pin the blame on eachother. Yachi decides to make her way out of the house before the tears well up. Figuring there was no point sticking around if she wasn't wanted.
A voice perks up. "You know, Yachi was the only person who answered the ad. If we dismiss her abilities entirely we could be missing out on a chance to strengthen our instrumentation."
The two are silenced. Yachi stops, turning her head back in surprise, to see Tsukki with arms folded.
He continues, "Going the purist route like Kageyama here will only make us run of the mill copycats. If we don't somehow innovate the sound we'll be forgettable. I think someone classically trained could be an asset and could push our music in a different different."
"See Kageyama?" Hinata exclaims. "She'll be great! What do you think Tadashi?"
The brown haired boy- was that a tint of green?- shrugs. "I can fill in as a second guitarist if Kageyama really wants it. I don't see why Yachi shouldn't be in the band."
He turns to Kageyama, who has been quiet since Tsukki initially spoke up. He stares at Yachi directly, his unreadable gaze making her tremble. He breaks it and addresses Tsukki, "You're right." More silence. "We'll trial her, and if she fits she can join us permanently. We can't guarantee she'll mesh well with our sound just yet."
A sigh of relief escapes her. She was in! Well, not in just yet, but they were willing to give her a shot! "Thank you so very much you guys for letting me join. I'll try my best, I promise. Thank you thank you thank you!"
Hinata pats on her the back. "That's totally alright Yachi! It'll be awesome with you around, I'm sure you'll do great. Right guys?"
Tadashi gives a thumbs up, Kageyama's face remains unchanged and Tsuki shrugs.
"Once again thanks," Yachi smiles, her shoulders loosening up and breathing a small smile of relief. She turns to walk out the door, calling behind her, "Please text me when you guys are practicing next!"
"Are you leaving already?" Hinata pouts. "We can't hear you play."
"Oh I'm super sorry!" Yachi says, flustered once more. "I just have work. Next time I promise I'll bring my keyboard and jam out with you guys. I swear!....Ahhh!"
Kageyama's hand is on her shoulder. He hands her a torn piece of paper, covered with his handwritten scrawl. "I made a list of shoegaze albums. Listen to these. They're important."
"Uhh.. thank you." She pockets the piece of paper and then turns around to wave at her newly found band mates, "See you guys!"
Finally out of the garage, and making her way towards the store, she reads the list Kageyama has given her. Yachi could almost admire his passion for the genre; quite a few albums were listed with hasty notes detailing the important aspects she should look out for, but the stench of elitism he exuded kept her from fully acknowledging his prowess.
She had no idea how she'd find the time to listen to the extensive list of music he'd given her before their next rehearsal. She spent the majority of her time working and her manager barely let her play her own music in the store, instead subjecting her to repeated listens of Green Day. Regardless, Yachi thinks to herself, she needs to listen to this. It was essential to keeping her on Kageyama's good side, improving her chances to be included in the band as a worthy musician.
Her eyes glance at the album listed first. It is circled, and the title written over at least five times to give the impression it's bolded. Beside it: "MOST IMPORTANT- IF YOUR (Yachi cringes slightly) GOING TO LISTEN TO ONLY ONE, PICK THIS ONE!!!!"
"Loveless," she whispers the title to herself, grabbing her phone to look up the album. "Let's go."
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peepingtoad · 3 years
Note
"— Haaah! I told you already I can't go out now! Can't you see I'm working?" After taking a week off, that is. "— But... You know... You could do one of those tricks, right, getting your frogs to bring us ~ just one ~ bottle of sake. It'll definitely help me get through this pile of paperwork!" / from tsunade and she's the worst leader ever çalfalsdkçgjçsa
impromptu asks || always accepting! || @imsical
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“I can see that you already appear to be half cut!” Jiraiya corrected with a pseudo-stern wag of his finger before hauling up his massive feet, and crossing one casually over the other atop the mere sliver of desk that wasn’t snowed under with papers. Having somehow managed this feat, he then swiped up a thick wad of academy applications, and started flicking through them with rapt interest, along with a hint of amusement. Judging from the photos pinned to each form, some of these kids were as soft as muck. “Well either that, or having a real grown up work schedule is finally, gradually nudging you off the rails...”
He knows that that isn’t quite the case—not right now, anyway. A two-second ‘conversation’ with Shizune in the foyer had already told him all he needed to know—that she’d been dealing with all Hokage business for the past week while Tsunade was on her break. Tsunade, who should by rights be totally refreshed and ready to blast her way through these pesky papers.
(Not that Jiraiya would ever, ever be in the right frame of mind to sit all day and stamp this shit in an endless stream of APPROVED, REJECTED, APPROVED... honestly, he’d rather eat an entire shoe...)
At the precise moment that Tsunade’s tone grew more hushed with conspiratorial excitement—a tone that he knew far too well—his dark eyes immediately flicked up from the documents to lazily regard her from across the desk. He blinked slowly, then scoffed with a dismayed shake of his head that caused soft white tufts to sway to and fro.
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“Uhh, excuse me? One of those ‘tricks’? You think my toads only exist to be your butlers or little personal jesters or somethin’? Have some respect!!”
He thrust his head up abruptly with his lower lip set in a pout, just to make it abundantly clear just how much he resented the idea......... and yet.
And yet.
A creeping smile that threatened to curl Jiraiya’s mouth into something more devilish wavered, and he restrained the swelling feeling that came with potential antics with an airy shrug—clearly (and rather uncharacteristically) admitting defeat on the matter as he cordially removed his feet from the desk and stood neatly upright.
“Y’know what? Fine!” The sage conceded with a nonthreatening lilt, and nicked his thumb to begin performing the summoning jutsu. “Just one bottle couldn’t hurt, eh?~”
He slapped his palm on the ground, and what appeared in a puff of smoke, just out of Tsunade’s line of sight... was a toad about the size of a housecat. But when he scooped up the toad in one hand to introduce them, with his hand encircling its oddly cinched middle, that it became apparent exactly what bullshit the sage was up to today. For the toad in question was a gourd toad, and as it would soon be clear once Jiraiya had procured two cups from Tsunade’s Special Drawer, the creature was brimming with some sort of Mysterious Frog Booze. The liquid even seemed to shimmer in the early evening sunlight as he poured it, prismatic like the surface of spilled gasoline.
With a courtly bow and a daring grin, he offered the cup to her.
“Care for a try, Princess? It’s pretty powerful stuff! But you did say ‘just one bottle’!~”
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r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 5 years
Text
A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 85 Xs1)
"Day 12: Chicago"
@creatureofthen1ght-v3
@lovemythsworld
@crystalbaby12
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Considering how intoxicated they got all day and night yesterday, it's surprising that Luna and Colson are awake before any kind of knock hits their hotel room door. It's probably because of the uncomfortable, tangled positions they'd found themselves in from last night.
Getting comfortable at the top of the bed, they snuggle together. Colson running his fingers through her golden hair as they talk about different things. He wants to fly his tattoo guy out to meet them in Kansas City on Thursday.
"Think it'll hurt?" Colson asks Luna about the head tattoo he wants.
"Hmmmmph...." Luna giggles to herself.
Remembering the pain, Luna touches the back of her head. Just above the divit that slopes into her neck, at the very base of her skull, about three fingers wide and long, she has the replica of an old CA license plate tattooed there. Instead of numbers, it has the word WARD, like a vanity plate. A registration sticker sits expiring in the bottom right corner on June of 1999. The hidden piece is the only ink Luna has for her mother.
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Known as Lizard or Izzy. Patti and Robert never named their daughter. The forgotten baby was named by a nun in the orphanage she was raised in. Never being adopted and always a ward of the state, Luna's mother's name legally became Elizabeth Ann Ward. Patti feeling immense guilt when her daughter contacted her regarding her grandchild, she legally changed Luna's name as soon as she adopted her after Izzy's death. The marking being the first tattoo Luna ever got. Never forgetting her true home. Or that first sense of insatiable pain. Always keeping her hair long, only three other people know that she has it. One of them being the artist. Colson isn't one and neither is her grandmother. Having gotten it done the summer she turned 14yrs old with Jackson and Opie, the undercut grew out just enough by time she'd come home to NY. That wasn't the only first for Luna in The Summer of 2005. That same year, Jackson got his first bike, teaching her how to ride and handle a gun. It was also the first time Luna ever had sex. Popping her cherry with Jackson on a warm late July night. It had been a wild summer filled with surprises, love and rebellion. Luna gaining and losing many different things in those three months. Springing into action a long series of events.
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"YEAH. On the back of your skull? You're gonna feel that vibration through your teeth, eyes, ears... It's gonna hurt like a Motherfucker." Luna says with a smile playing on her lips.
"Shit, I didn't think of it like that..." Colson admits, not noticing Luna's detail.
"You'll be fine. Don't act like you don't like a little pain." Luna lifts up, biting his lip.
"Mmm... " Colson pulls Luna into him.
Kissing her deeply, Luna feels her body flush. Pushing up and climbing on top of him, she pins him down against the bed. Lightly biting along his neck. Each one a little harder as she makes her way to his nipples. Making Colson laugh and squirm as she drags her hands down his body as she bites his tattooed sides and stomach.
Holding his hard dick and excited eyes, Luna licks the bottom of him from base to tip with her wide, sopping tongue. Keeping his eyes in place with her antagonizing blue, Colson groans out. She gives him a wicked smile and a devious look before she lightly squeezes his cock and sinks her teeth into the meat of his thigh. Hard but not too hard.
"Ahh!! You fucking bitch!" He jerks. Laughing, while grabbing her. Colson carefully lifting and flipping Luna on to her back. "I'm gonna fuck you up!" He claims as she giggles.
Holding her down, with one large hand planted in the middle of her chest with a long arm, Colson slips his tongue up through the warm folds of Luna's pussy. Tasting peaches, he smiles before biting her back on her thigh.
"Motherfucker!!" Luna shrieks
Colson throws both of her legs over his shoulders. Coming back up to her face, he presses his tongue into her mouth. Aggressively kissing her as he holds her down.
Enjoying his dominance, Luna finds his cock with her hands. Grabbing it, she shifts her hips as she guides him inside. Pulling his blonde hair back, making him groan out as he starts to fuck her.
"Jesus FUCKING Christ, Loons!!" Colson growls into her ear, as he pulls out of her grasp to gnaw on her neck.
Luna claws the tops his arms, keeping her left leg straight. Her right leg grips his neck, curve of her foot resting perfectly on the back of his head. Driving into her deeply. Colson and Luna buck against each other hard as their teeth nip and hands grab at each other's bodies.
"Fuck. Oh, Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, FUUUUCK MEEEE!!!" Luna cries as Colson happily follows directions.
Making them both cum. Dropping her legs from his shoulders, Colson stays between them. Laying on Luna's right collarbone. He can see the bandage for her gunshot wound.
"Fuck..." His stomach churns as he looks in the other direction. Hating everything about it.
"Do you need a dress?" Colson pops his head up after a moment.
"A dress?" Luna asks, confused.
"Yeah... For the wedding. Shit. I guess you need two, hunh? He moves off of her to lay on his side.
"Awww..." Luna kisses his sweet lips. "Yeah... I uh, I don't know yet. I have an idea of what I want... But... I don't know... You?" She asks.
They haven't made any solid plans regarding either event. The only thing in place is their word, a twisted guitar string, an already scheduled festival and an almost dual residency for one of them. All with the idea of being legally married sometime next month.
"Don't you dress me?" Colson honestly asks her.
"Are you fucking five?" Luna asks him with a gnarly look. "Am I supposed to dress you?" She gives him a terrified look.
Both of them laugh, neither knowing what the fuck they're doing. THIS is gonna be a hot mess, they agree.
"We need help." Luna admits. "At least for after TownHall... We can wing EstFest."
Colson agrees with her again. They want to have a gathering afterwards at The Cleveland House for those who attend the small ceremony.
Wrapping his arm around Luna, pulling her into his chest, Colson kisses her head.
"We're getten' married, Kitten." He hums into into the top of her head.
Luna smiles, resting deeper into him. A wave of euphoria washing over her. A happy Yup escaping her lips. Neither of them ever expecting this in their lifetime. Colson a forever player. Luna thinking her heart was broken.
Hearing the knock, they get up. Burning and banging it out again in the shower. Luna snorting Percocets as Colson rails his own Adderalls.
Passing joints back and forth as they get dressed. Colson in loose grey pants and a Metallica shirt. Luna in all black skinnies and a tank.
Sliding on her red Vans, she pulls on the red baseball hat and her leather. Colson slapping her ass as she yelps walking out the door.
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Colson's playing a sold out show at the Aragon Ballroom tonight.
As The Crew and Tech finish setting up, Luna and everyone hangs out in the parking lot. Most of them boarding around. All of them burning.
Luna stops as she feels her phone ring. It's her grandmother. Leaning up against the wall, Luna takes it.
"Hey Mom-Mom..." She greets Patti.
Patti asks Luna how the tour's going. Luna telling her Wild, like any other. Her Mom-Mom always appreciating Luna's candidness. They go on to touch base that Luna spoke to her therapist, Kylie, last week. She reassures her grandma that she did and will this week also. With that Patti cuts to the chase. She wants Luna to do her a favor. Luna hates her grandmother's favors.
"Seriously, Mom-mom?" Luna sighs with annoyance.
Patti wants her to fly out to NY next Tuesday and appear on Ellen. Always thinking her connections are the right move for her granddaughter's career. It's exactly how Luna ended up on Riot Records.
"What if Ash isn't available?" Luna tries to wiggle out of it.
Her grandmother pisses her off when she tells her that's Just Fine, Ellen wants to interview her, not Ashley.
"What the FUCK, Mom-mom? You know I don't like doing interviews. And on fucking daytime TV. You gotta stop doing this shit to me, Man. Did I not just flip shit in my room over feeling too looked at.....? You fucking suck right now....." Luna complains.
Pressing on Patti tells her it's good exposure for Nightmare and her cause. That Luna knows Ellen as a family friend and that she won't cross any boundaries. Sometimes she can be an old dick.
"Yeah. Clearly you've never watched her show." Luna angrily retorts. "I'll do this one, but Mom-Mom, that's IT. DO NOT commit me to anything else before asking me first." Pressing it even further, Luna throws in a zinger. "What did you always tell me?... Hm? Not to ASSUME anything... because it makes an Ass outta You and Me.... Next time, I'm gonna say No and you're gonna be mad when you look like an Asshole." Luna tells the older woman.
Blowing Luna's threats off, her grandmother tells her to watch her for the producers phone call and that she'll see her when she gets home. They exchange I Love Yous and GoodByes before hanging up. Still leaning against the wall, Luna grabs her skateboard and looks down. Thinking about her conversation with her grandmother.
"This is fucking bullshit.... I don't wanna fucking go on TV.... Ahhhhh!!!" Her brain screams. "Ash better be able to fucking come."
Calling Ashley, she can't. She'll be in Europe somewhere with Dom. Luna zones out of the conversation once she doesn't hear what she wants.
"MOTHERFUCKER.." Is all she can think.
Colson had noticed when Luna had first stopped skating. Looking over at her again, he stops himself. Holding his board, he watches her. She seems irritated by whoever's on the phone.
"Nobody better be fucking with her." He thinks, dropping his deck to skate over to Luna. "And it better not be fucking Tommy.... Or Jackson..." Colson can feel a fire lighting in his belly.
"What's up, Kitten?" He asks.
Gliding up to her, as he stops. One foot on his board, the other on the ground. Letting her's rest against her leg as wraps his long arms around her body.
"My fucking grandmom booked me on Ellen next Tuesday and Ash can't go with me." Luna complains into his chest.
"Shit? Again without asking?" Colson pulls her out of his chest.
"Yeah..." Luna sighs.
"Come're." Colson tells her.
They both let their boards go as he lifts her up. Luna wraps her arms and legs around his naked upper body. Burying her face into his neck. Inhaling his sweet aroma. The mixture of coffee, weed and his deodorant makes her nipples hard.
"I fucking hate when she does this." She whines.
"I know, Kitten." Colson comforts her as he kisses the side of her hat. "You just performing or you gotta sit down too?" He asks.
"I gotta sit dooowwn..." Luna continues to pout.
Colson can't help but chuckle. Luna tells him to Shut Up as her phone rings again. It's another NY number.
Sliding off of him, she takes the call as he skates off. Giving her a minute. It's the producers from The Ellen Show. They want Luna to perform Nightmare and THAT Type along with an interview. Luna agrees to all but THAT Type. She refuses to continue fueling this Bleta flame. Guaranteeing she'll have something for two sets, Luna unhappily hangs up.
"And now I gotta write a whole new FUCKING song...." Luna thinks, annoyed.
Flipping her deck over she goes to find Sam. She's rail sliding, ollieing and skating around the parking lot with Colson, Rook and Baze. Luna decides against saying anything at the moment. Choosing to rip her emotions out using the trucks beneath her feet instead.
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Inside the ballroom, Colson goes over last minute specifics with Tech before he hits a light rehearsal with The Band.
They don't really need it, but they like to check the acoustics in new venues. Watching from SideStage, Colson asks Luna if she wants to try out What I Got.
"Yeah, why not? I wanna play lead on this one though." Luna says, tossing off her hat with her leather.
Walking over, she picks up a guitar and slides the strap over her shoulder. Striking it. She begins to play a different song with her own lyrics.
🎶Luna's 26yrs old🎶
🎶But Tuesday🎶
🎶She'll be a whore🎶
🎶Even though she already🎶
🎶Knows🎶
🎶It's fucking the wrong way🎶
Luna stares at Colson as she snarls at the next lyrics. She's still pissed at her grandmother.
🎶Don't be afraid🎶
🎶In the quickness🎶
🎶You get laid🎶
🎶For your family🎶
🎶Get paid🎶
🎶It's the Fucking wrong way🎶
Letting the guitar hang off of her, Luna sighs. Arms rests on the Fender. The 30s and time help Luna not notice the light pain in her shoulder. Colson walks over and kisses her forehead.
"I don't think that's really a duet, Kitty." He says with a small smile.
"I know..." Luna sighs again. "I'm just frustrated. I gotta come up with a second song by Tuesday."
Leaning the top of her her head into his chest as the instrument separates them. He rubs her back asking her Why. Understanding when she explains not wanting to use THAT Type.
"What about the one you sent me? Brooklyn Bitch?" He asks, lifting her face by the chin.
Looking up at him she says No, pulling away. Hands flittering in frustration. She'd have to change too many things and it's the complete opposite tone and message of Nightmare. Whatever it is, it needs to send it's own independent, strong musical statement. Another reason she doesn't want to use THAT Type, it's negative as all hell towards women and so far removed from Luna's platform. She needs something new. Something to hold hands with Nightmare. Sighing again, she places her head back against Colson's bare chest.
"Wanna put figuring out a cover on hold for a sec? So you can write this one?" He asks.
Looking up again, she asks If He Minds. Shaking his head, Colson leans down to kiss Luna. Lifting the guitar from around her neck.
"Come on... Lemme get you high, Baby Girl." He smirks.
Slapping her ass. He grabs one cheek, holding it tightly as they walk across stage.
Rolling her eyes, she feels her pussy swell from his grasp. Luna loves the way he man handles her sometimes, even distracted.
"I fucking hate when you call me that." She complains.
There is ONE person who calls Luna Baby Girl and they're the highest on her shit list.
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Sitting on one of the couches on The Bus, Colson fires Luna up a joint. Handing it to her, he lights his own. Slouching down, Luna hits it as she kicks off her Vans. Swinging herself around, Luna lays back on the couch as she places her legs across his lap.
Colson slips her socks off and starts rubbing her slender feet. Pressing his large thumbs into her balls and high arches. Both still getting high. Luna closes her eyes, running her left foot over Colson's semi until he can't stand it anymore. Fully hard, he looks over at her asking Yeah to her smirk and shrug.
"YEAH!!" Colson shouts as he pounces on her.
Tickling and kissing her all over, Luna wiggles and laughs as they try to undress each other. Scooching all over the couch. Colson pulls her skinny jeans off and throws them across The Bus.
"Was that really necessary?" Luna laughs.
"Yes." Colson confirms as he dives back on to her.
Kissing and teasing each other, they wrestle around on the couch. Luna squirms too far off it, taking them both down onto the floor with a THUD.
With more space to control her, Colson bites Luna's neck as he dips his cock inside of her. Luna thrusts her hips up into him as she moans out in pleasure. They're tongues play in each other's mouths as they move their bodies together. Pulling back, Colson grins down at Luna.
"Told you I'd fuck you on the floor." He smirks.
"You motherfucker!" Luna bursts.
Gripping his waist with the leg wrapped around it, Luna pushes off with her right. She rolls them over using her right arm as leverage and left for force. Popping his dick back inside of herself once she's on top, she pulls up her right knee to protect her new crab. Dropping her hips and left leg, Luna pushes Colson all the way inside of her. Pressing on his chest with her hands, she rocks her hips in a titled circle.
"Who's fucking who on the floor now, C!" Luna taunts his groans.
"You're such a fucking biitchh..." He growls, enjoying her pussy controlling his cock.
"Yeah. But you love this fucking BITCH, don't you?" Luna provokes Colson while riding him faster. "Don't you."
Colson grips her hips tighter with a loud Yes. Bucking hard against him, they're both on the verge of cumming.
"Say it." She demands.
"I FUCKING LOVE YOU, YOU FUCKING BITCH!!" Colson shouts as Luna fucks him with authority.
"FUCK YEAH, YOU DO!!" She cries out before they both cum. "Holy Fuck balls, Bunny...."
Luna pants, dangling her head backwards as she leans her hands on his thighs. Still grinding into him. Colson admires her heaving chest and enjoys her warm pussy and soft moans.
She's startled when he comes flying up, wrapping his arms around Luna's body when he hears The Bus doors open. Quickly tucking her inside of him, she's not sure what's going on until she hears his firm YO.
Next comes a "Bullet? What the fuck, DUDE? Why... You know what.... Get the fuck out, I'll be talk to you in a minute." Colson says to whomever walked onto The Bus.
"Who the hell was that?" Luna asks once he releases her.
Colson runs his hands through her hair. Pulling her in for another kiss.
"My boy, Bullet... Come on, let's get dressed. I'll introduce you." He tells her before he kisses her again.
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"MY MAN!!" Colson exclaims dapping and hugging a large bald man.
The guy is HUGE. Benny and Colson are the same height but Benny's got an easy 150lbs on Colson. This dude that Luna's watching, has at least another three inches on them both. An easy fifty pounds if not more of solid muscle on Benny. He's not huge, this man is a mountain.
"Kitten!" Colson catches her attention. "This is Bullet. Bullet, meet Luna Smith, THAT Brooklyn Bitch. And as of next month my fucking WIFE." He grins with pride.
"Hi!" Luna gives the man a bright smile as she shakes his hand. "How do you guys know each other?" She asks.
Colson explains how Bullet is his other bodyguard.
"Ooohh... They called in you cause of OUR reckless asses." Luna calls him right out, putting two and two together.
"Naaahhhh..." Bullet shakes his head with a smirk.
"Mhhm... Well, at least we greeted you with a fucking bang-bang." She snarks, making Colson and Bullet erupt into laughter. "I gotta start working on this song. Catch you in a bit?" Luna asks as she kisses Colson.
He nods in agreement, kissing her back as she tells Bullet It's A Pleasure. Heading off to find Sam.
---------------------------------------------------
"Imma like this one..... She's a little pistol." Bullet thinks of his first impression of Luna. Noticing how Kells had stopped to cover her tattooed body when he walked in on them. He'd never done that before with any other female Bullet's walked in on him with. Just kept on fucking. "If she is what they say she is, I guess I'd wanna keep that ass to myself too." He muses to himself. Acknowledging that Kells's Girl is not only sassy but STACKED as he watches her walk away.
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🎶Did we ask//You for It//When we begged//Was it nice//While we were//Asking for It//Did we beg you twice🎶
Luna's in Colson's dressing room, sitting on the floor with her guitar, notebook, a joint and a pen. She's trying to write a new song. Wanting the same message as Nightmare, but melodic wise is trying to return to her roots. That raw energy. She doesn't want any mixing done. Just to run it straight through. That hard hitting garage feel.
"FUCK.... I'm so glad Sam's already here. I need a fucking bassist..... There's no way I'm pulling Tim in for this....." She thinks as a pain shoots through her heart.
--------------------------------------------------
Luna's original band, Dysfunctional Baggage consisted of four members. Luna on lead guitar and vocals. Justin on rhythm guitar and back up vocals. Sam, obviously being the drummer and Tim, Justin's bestfriend, their bassist. They had formed in 2011. Playing local NYC spots. Doing small East Coast tours. None of them wanting to be famous, having only the need to create music. And they did. A lot. The Band cut four albums on their own before they disbanded in 2015. Justin and Tim's addictions overshadowing their work. That's when Patti pushed Luna onto Riot Records as a solo artist. Locking her into a four year, three record contract. Sam had stuck with Luna as an unsigned artist, not wanting to be pigeonholed but still create with her friend. Having lost Justin within the first year of her contract, the three records sound nothing like Luna. They're very dark and bluesy instead of energetic and empowering. Justin's suicide never going public but Luna's words making it abundantly clear to their fans. It had wreaked her. Had she not been forced to create, she probably would've lost her music also.
--------------------------------------------------
Ashleigh pops her head in.
"You're on in 15, Loon." She informs her.
"FUCK! Okay. Thanks Ash." Luna responds.
Looking at her mess on the floor, she doesn't have time to clean it up. Pulling her clothes off, she dresses for The Stage. Throwing on a corset, booty shorts, thigh highs with a garter, a random flannel and knee high boots.
Keeping her hair loose, she pulls on her leather before heading out to perform with Colson.
-------------------------------------------------
"God DAMN!!!" Colson's mind flashes as he takes Luna's hand, leading her from the piano. "Imma fuck the shit outta that ass TONIGHT." He thinks as he raps to her.
Bouncing around the stage together, playing off one another, Colson feels his dick growing hard as Luna snakes around him. He pulls her into him. Poking her lower back with his raging cock. Reminding her of LA.
🎶Let me paint the picture. Counter in the kitchen. Taking all your clothes off. Findin' my religion. You're my pretty little vixen and I'm the voice inside your head. That keeps telling you to listen to all the bad things I say🎶
They hit the chorus together. How they want each other forever. Throwing their arms up as they laugh and sing about tattooing each other on their bodies to take each other wherever.
The Band exploding around them with lights and smoke. The crowd going wild when Luna grabs Colson's chin. Belting the last chords.
🎶I'm all in🎶
🎶There is no maybe🎶
Colson grabs her ass, pulling her into him for a strong kiss. Their bodies ripping chords on his guitar between them.
"I love you." Colson whispers to her, whipping her around to face the crowd, he holds her against him. Arm around her neck. "Give it up for my soon-to-be Bride, THAT BROOKLYN FUCKING BITCH!!!!" He screams.
Luna grins and shakes her head. Thanking the crowd as Colson kisses her cheek and releases her.
"Kill em, Bunny." She tells him before trotting OffStage.
That's exactly what he does for the next 45mins. Jumping into the crowd, climbing up random shit, performing his fucking heart out.
Luna doesn't bother to head back to the dressing room. Standing in between Sam and Ashleigh, she hits the bottle one hands her. Then a joint from the other. Singing along with them, enjoying the rest of the show.
"Thank you, Chicago!!! You were fucking sick!!!" Colson shouts before coming OffStage after encoring Sail.
Luna throws up a Bye to Ashleigh and a confused Sam as he tosses her over his shoulder. It's a scene her and Ashleigh know all to well.
--------------------------------------------------
"Get that shit off, NOW." Colson demands after setting Luna back down on her feet.
"What 'chou do before me?" She asks as she strips.
"There is no before YOU." He tells her as he scoops her up.
Sliding himself inside of her, Colson presses Luna up against the dressing room door. Sucking all over her neck as he bounces her off of his dick.
Luna cums for him easily with the way he talks to her and the way his cock treats her. Her walls gripping him tight, she makes him cum with her.
Sitting down on the couch, Colson's still inside Luna as she rests her head against his bare chest and neck. Quietly enjoying each other for a moment.
"What do you wanna do tonight?" He finally asks her.
Lifting up, she grins. "Same thing we do every night, Pinky.... Take over the fucking world."
Colson laughs out an I Love You before flipping her into her back and fucking her again on the couch.
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With a school bag full of liquor, drugs and toys, that's exactly what they do. Take over the fucking world as Colson, Luna, Sam, Baze, Rook and Slim rip their boards around DownTown Chicago.
"I didn't know you grind!!!" Luna grins as Slim cruises beside her.
"Bitch, black men do everything!" He laughs.
"Shut the fuck up." Luna tells him with a grin and a shake of the head "Why your bitch ass never come out with us before then, hunh?"
"Cuz I do what I WANT!!!" He laughs mimicking Luna as he pushes off to gain more speed.
"Why wanna be like me???" She teases him, gaining her own speed and sailing past him.
Stopping abruptly, Luna yells "SAMMMMMYYYY!!!"
She's found a park. It may be gated but Luna found a park. The Boys watch as Luna tosses her board and bag over the fence. Next goes Sam's board. Luna's almost up the fence as she reaches down to help her girl.
"I guess we're going to the park..." Colson shrugs after watching The Girls disappear. "Heads up!!!" He yells before tossing his board over to them.
Following suit, Colson and The Boys hop the fence too.
Inside the park, Luna and Sam climb up the jungle gym. Sam finding and sliding down the slide first. Luna going down sideways calling for Squish The Lemon. Everyone one running towards her. Rook and Sam take one set of steps as Slim and Baze find others, running across the jungle gym to the slide. Colson beats them all when he climbs up the side. It only takes Colson's weight to knock Luna off.
Scrambling back up to the top, they hoot and holler as they slide and slam into each other. Knocking each of them to the ground. Luna's stuck between Baze and Rook as Slim comes tumbling down against Sam. It's Colson's force that sends Baze and Luna flying into the air. Both hit the ground laughing.
"YOU WIN!!!!" Luna calls out, not bothering to get up off of the warm summer ground.
"Lezzzzz goooo!!" Sam shouts, pulling her up and towards the swings.
Luna LOVES to swing. It's the ultimate childhood release for her. The six of them all grab a swing, pumping their legs hard as they breeze through the air. Flying high.
"On three, who can make it farthest!!" Baze shouts out the challenge.
Dipping into the air faster as they glide, Baze calls ONE! TWO! THREEEEEE!!!! Sending them all flying into the night sky. Surprisingly, they all land on their feet. Colson winning having lept the farthest. Slim a close second.
"Guess white men can jump." Luna sticks her tongue out at Slim before she grabs Sam's hands and runs off.
Jumping onto the Merry-Go-Round. She calls The Boys over. Slim and Rook jump on with them as Colson and Baze do the hard work of pushing. Running around full force multiple times, they jump on too. Colson grabbing ahold of Luna and a bar as The World spins around them. Laughing as the warm summer air whizzes by them.
All of them lay back, dizzy as the sky starts to move slower. Passing the bottle and multiple joints amongst them.
"Is this the shit you do when you guys disappear??" Slim asks as he hits a joint, enjoying the childishness of the night.
Colson, Luna, Rook and Baze erupt into laughter. Yes. Yes it is.
"I Cone-Fought Loons in Detroit!!" Rook laughs. "I bet I'm the only person in The World who's whooped her ass!!" He states to the others laughter and Luna's Fuck You.
"What fun shit you got in the bag tonight, Looney?" Colson asks.
"Ahhhh... Idk. I think I have a football!!" She pops up off the metal toy.
Digging through her bag, she pulls out a Nerf football to everyone's excitement.
"WORD!!" Slim shouts, jumping up as Luna tosses it to him. "Colson gets Luna so I get Sam..." He starts picking teams.
"Aight.... I get Rookie." Colson agrees, popping up too, pulling Luna up with him.
"What the fuck, yo!?" Baze asks as last pick.
"You wit me Truck, let's rock these Fools!!" Slim reassures him.
Picking goal lines, they can't agree on touch or tackle. The Boys calling touch while The Girls holler Fuck That, Tackle. Colson declaring tackle it is.
They run a couple plays. Luna and Sam displaying that not only can they catch a football but each can also spiral one. Running around competitively against each other, Luna tackles Sam with no thought. Stopping their fourth down.
"FUCKING LUNATIC!!!!" Rook screams in excitement.
If you haven't realized yet, Luna and Rook are tiny people best friends. Both adoring and finding each other hilarious.
They're in the middle of another play when they see lights and hear a Hey.. What Are You Kids Doin'!? Grabbing their boards and Luna's bag all six of them haul ass. Tossing their shit over the fence as they all escape.
Laughing hysterically as they shoot off into the Chicago night. Rounding a few blocks, they slow down. Colson firing up a joint as Baze does too. Luna pulling the bottle of whiskey back out of her bag. They cruise back to the Aragon as they continue to enjoy each other, passing joints and the bottle between them as they continue to get fucked up. Slim happy he came out.
------------------------------------------------
"Wait. We're outta fucking alcohol???" Luna asks once they're back on The Bus. "How is that possible!??"
It's 2A. There is NO WAY they're hitting the road dry.
"Hold The FUCKING Bus." She directs Colson. "Let's go." She states grabbing Ashleigh and Sam's hands.
Chicago is the joint you wanna be in if you need alcohol late night. After a short search, Ashleigh finds a package store only three blocks away. With the bottle of Jameson still in her bag, Luna demands Ashleigh down it. She needs to be on their level.
Always the responsible one, Ashleigh doesn't mind when Luna demands she cut loose. Pouring the last eighth of the bottle down her throat.
Linking arms, The Girls laugh as they burn a joint trying to follow Ashleigh's GPS. They only get lost for fifteen minutes.
Relieved, giddy and drunk, Ashleigh, Luna and Sam drop to their knees in the whiskey aisle. Praising the Liquor Gods. Not caring who's around.
Each grabbing three handles. Six whiskeys and three tequilas. They head to the counter. Sam and Luna losing their shit when Ashleigh mistakes a Captain Morgan cut out for a person. She's drunk.
"We gotta get you out more, Boo." Luna laughs, throwing her arm around her.
After paying, they stumble down the street. Ducking their heads together as they laugh.
"Take me with yooou next time... I'm so tired of being the Moooooommmm... I had so much fun just being fucked up with you the other day." Ashleigh slurs.
"I got you, Sugar." Luna beams, wrapping her arm around Ashleigh's swinging waist.
They're a block away from the venue, when they're approched by four men.
"What do we have here???" One asks as they circle The Girls.
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Word limit ( 1 of 2 )
To be continued......
22 notes · View notes
autistickitten · 8 years
Note
Part 1 (autism + gymnastics): Hello, I coach gymnastics to special needs children and I was looking for some advice. I have this one autistic kiddo who is around 11 years old. He loves reading (especially about animals-mythical or real). I am having trouble getting him to do stuff, he usually just wants to sleep all the time. I've tried telling him if we do this we can have a quick break and sometimes it'll work but other times he will just say no and lie down.
At some points he will start hitting me and ripping papers off the walls, throwing water bottles off a table, playing with light switches, throwing his glasses, slapping me, and kicking me (or any other coach around)-he won’t go near the other kids though.
I havent figured out what to do, his mom said to not let him do this so stop him form hurting himself and other people but ive had people at my work tell me to never say no and not to restrict him, just say i dont like what you’re doing right now please stop and try to redirect him very gently but the papers he’s ripping off have push pins and I’m afraid hell step on it and when he turns off the lights the gymnasts who are flipping will get hurt and the water bottles he throws usually spill so peoples feet get wet causing other equipment to be slippery.
Im worried about his safety, and other peoples safety. I need advice on how to get him to do gymnastics and avoid the meltdowns (not sure if thats the correct word for this case). Ive tried the way my coworkers said and I’ve tried just restricting him sitting down giving him deep squeezes and he usually calms down.
But this happens twice every class we have (the class is only 1 hour) or more than 4 times if we are doing camp (which is usually 3 or 7 hours). Ive also tried saying if we do this we can go read your book but he will say he doesn’t want his book but once i get him to do one thing he asks for his book. Ive also had times where I have taken him to get his book but it turns out he was using it as a way to get out of the gym and leave, he doesn’t want to come back in.
The problem is that he loves gymnastics, he asks to come all the time and he’s excited when i see him go put his stuff away before coming in but once he gets in he doesn’t want to do anything. Ive also tried making a schedule for him which worked out really well one time but the next time he came it didn’t work at all.
Any advice, I’m out of ideas? If anyone needs to know, the gymnastics centre isn’t all special needs children, we accept 1-2 children with special needs per class and we have competitive gymnasts around as well. *PS-sorry this is long*
This might very well be the longest ask we’ve ever received :P And unfortunately I don’t really have a ton of advice for you! I mean, it sounds like this kid just flat out doesn’t want to be there! Obviously something there is causing him such high levels of distress for him to consistently meltdown almost every time he goes there. I mean, at this point the question, to me, seems less like “What can we do to stop this” and more like “Could making him keep going there be considered child abuse”. And, frankly, since you only take a couple special needs kids per class he’s taking up a spot that would almost certainly be better served by someone who actually wants to be there.
I don’t know how much you’re allowed to talk to the parents or anything but, honestly, if you can, you should tell the parents that the kid just isn’t benefiting from the gymnastics class.It could be something environmental, maybe the lighting hurts or the sounds of the other kids. I know even as an adult I’ll sometimes be very excited to do something then once I’m doing it I go “Wow, I forgot how much I hate this!” so it could be the same for him. If he does genuinely like gymnastics, he’d probably be better off taking private lessons. If he’d really just rather read his books, he’d probably be better off in a library club or something.
Obviously it can’t keep going on like this, especially since he’s putting himself and others in danger. I think it’s time you have a meeting with the parents and decide if there’s something else that’s better suited for him.
-Brother Cat
Yep, I agree with Brother Cat !
It sounds to me like he’s being very sensorily overloaded during class. You might not realize it, but gyms are pretty awful. First of all, there are a lot of people. That means people are talking, being noisy, probably smelling like sweat. The equipment might smell funky, be squeaky, have weird textures. The lights (especially neon lights) are probably too bright and making noises you can’t hear but that he can.
Sensory overload can be very painful, especially to children, and can easily provoke meltdowns. (Here’s a simulation if you want to see what it might feel like.) When he’s turning the lights off and throwing stuff or slapping you, he’s not being difficult, he’s saying “being here hurts and I don’t want to stay here.” Pressure (deep squeezes) sometimes helps with warding off sensory overload, it’s great that it helps him ! But it’s not a permanent fix, this situation can’t go on.
I remember that during gym class I’d squeeze myself between the corner wall and the metal door and try to shut out the noises and lights :/ They’re not good memories. I would have given anything to read a book somewhere quiet instead.
PS: Kudos to you for coming to autistic people with your questions ! We really appreciate it !! You’re actively making a difference in this kid’s life :)
- Sister Cat
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