#they called it ‘a fidget spinner shirt but better’

[hstoryhuh-a]

[enclosed in a medium sized box addressed from alexander diaz is]: a small weighted blanket, a fidget spinner, noise isolated ear buds for working out, specialized hot chocolate jar, and a usb full of rain sounds along with other relaxing sounds.

“Don’t you dare say these times are hollow Just because there are storms raging by. Just lay low on your pillow, Close your eyes and say goodbye

To the world that you lived in today. Let your dreams carry you away; You lived a nightmare all through the day, It is time to dream, so don’t delay."

― from the Brat First Son with love

he   doesn't   quite   know   what   to   expect   when   the   box   arrives.   a   part   of   him   thinks   another   box   of   pins,   maybe   shirts   -   god   forbid   it's   that   box   of   thongs   that   he's   threatened   to   send   before.   but   it's   not   any   of   those   things   ...   it's   so   much   more   than   henry   could   have   ever   expected.

it's   only   when   he's   staring   at   the   various   items   spread   out   across   his   bed   that   it   really   sinks   in.   alex   had   sent   this   to   him   to   make   him   feel   better   -   because   of   course   he   would   know   that   henry   would   feel   bad   about   the   pictures.   (   and   his   family's   reaction   hadn't   helped   matters   )

an   email   is   sent   shortly   after ...

Brat   First   Son,

Thank   you.

Sincerely,   

Appreciative   HRH Prince Dickhead ( I believe that's what June said you called me )

[rejoiceandfalltoyourknees]

Since it’s bisexual visibility day, here’s an edgy ™ picture of me (a bisexual)

[chososheart]

Make it quick - Eren Yeager

(one shot)

Pairing: Eren Yeager x Reader

Summary: Eren comes home after a stressful day, and who better to relieve his stress than his girlfriend?

Content: established relationship, college! au, smut.

word count: 2.5k

CW: smut, NSFW, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play, penetration, denied orgasm, creampie, slight humiliation kink, praise kink, slight biting kink, sub-Eren if you squint.

see masterlist | navigation

The rain that fogged your bedroom’s windows fell hard against the ground outside. So hard, you could hear it splatter from the safety of your apartment.

Today was lazy. A typical Sunday afternoon that was taken over by the mean weather outside.

You sipped on your warm beverage, while wrapped in a fluffy baby blue blanket that belonged to your boyfriend. He wasn’t home, yet. You continue filling the air with the tapping sounds of your computer. You had an assignment to turn in by midnight and it was infuriating, the pace you were going in.

I’m never gonna get this done

You sigh and take another sip from your drink and let its warmth soothe your nerves as it coats your throat.

You hear a few sounds coming from your front door. A small smile forms on your face when you realize who that is.

“Honey! I’m home!” Eren announced in a forced, deep voice as his heavy shoes mask the sounds coming from your keyboard. He slips his drenched coat off and walks to your shared room.

You squeeze your eyes shut when you hear the pet name, again. “I told you to stop calling me that. You’re not funny.”

“Keep telling that to yourself.” He removed his backpack from his shoulders and placed it on top of the office chair in your room. “What you up to?”

“Mr. Sargent eyebrows gave me a shit ton of work that I’m definitely not ending today.”

He plopped down on the bed with a heavy sigh. “What is it about? Maybe I could help you.”

You laugh. “No thanks. I got it.”

He lays down on the plush pillows behind him with a pout. “I’m smart... enough,” he mumbles to himself.

You hum. “I’ll be back.” You unwrap yourself from his cozy blanket and walk to the kitchen with your mug in hand.

When you did, Eren got a glimpse of your exposed breasts. The spaghetti strap of your tank top had fallen when you slipped the blanket off and it successfully was enough to get his mind running. Your nipples were perked, from the chilly atmosphere, and your ass, half out of your sweat shorts from being sat for so long.

This was perfect, he thought. Eren was tired, and what better way to lore himself to sleep, than fucking his pretty girlfriend?

He quickly lifted his shirt and tugged on his sweats to ‘innocently’ expose his happy trail and toned abs. He crossed his arms under his head and stretched when you walked back in.

That’ll get her.

But it didn’t. You didn’t even look at him. Your computer had your full attention after you made yourself comfortable in bed again.

Eren rolled his eyes and ran his heavy, warm hand over your exposed thigh. “Hey,” he said in the most seductive way he could.

You hum, eyes never leaving the bright screen.

He gawks at you and clears his throat. “Today was a long day. Can I tell you about it?”

“Sure.”

He dramatically sighed and rubbed his hand up your thigh. “I had so many assignments to do today. Armin didn’t even let me copy off his work, I had to do it all by myself. I’m so tired.”

“Really?” you nonchalantly say, eyes still never leaving your screen.

“Yeah.” He breathes. “Wish there was a way to make all this stress go away.”

“Want me to get you a fidget spinner or something?”

He scoffs. “Baby, you know what I mean.” He moves his hand higher up your thigh.

“As much as I want to, I can’t. Gotta turn this in soon.” You turn around and nod at your computer.

He squeezed your thigh. “C’mon, I’ll be quick, I promise.”

You sigh. “Promise?”

He lifts his body from your bed and whispers in your ear, “Mhm.” He lightly kisses your neck.

Your eyes flutter shut with a deep exhale. “Fine.” You rush to grab your computer and leave it on your desk. You sit down on your bed again once you reach it.

“What do you wanna do?” you ask.

“I want you to ride me,” Eren says. He shifts back until his body meets the headboard.

“That’ll take too long, plus, my thighs hurt every time I do.”

“C’mon, you’ll be fine.” He reaches for your hands and guides you in his lap.

He gives you a light peck and moves to your neck to trace wet kisses there. “Mmm,” he groaned, voice rattling into your ears and leaving you breathless, as he pulled you down against him.

You slowly grind your hips and rest your hands on his chest as you repeat the rocking motion.

His hands find your hips and gives them a soft squeeze as he guides you over his dick. You gasp when you feel it against your clit—pressing through his pants, hard, and grinding against you.

His head fell back against the wooden surface of your headboard, and he squeezed the soft fat on your hips. He continued to desperately add pressure to your movement, tightly shoving your hips against his.

Through breathy whines, you grip on the material of his shirt as your hands form into fists. He continues to guide your hips over his dick, slow, and deep; except now, he bucked his hips up, which had your thighs twitching and your hips stuttering.

“Eren,” you cry.

Your brain was getting foggy over his tongue on yours. Your cunt, throbbing from the hard presence under it.

“Fuck, I can feel you,” you pant.

“Yeah? You can feel my dick on you?” he swallows, through shut eyes.

You nod, grab the hem of his shirt and yank it off. Eren does the same, but he takes the extra step of ripping your shorts and panties off in one go. When your hands tugged on the band of his sweats, he stopped you.

“Gotta prep you first,” he whispered.

“Don’t care.” You shake your head, “Eren, please, now.”

He pressed your cheeks together with his rough hand, which made your lips pucker. “Shh. I know what I’m doing, don’t interrupt.”

He lifts his free hand. “Open up.” He slips his middle and ring fingers over your lips and places them on your tongue.

His eyebrows raise when he feels the warm slick, cover the pads of his fingers, and groans when you suck on them. He takes those fingers south and passes them through your slit. He circles them on your clit and closely watches your face melt in pleasure. Heat rushes to your face when you see the sinister grin that adorns his face. You drop your gaze to his lap.

He chuckles at your sudden shyness. “Look at me.”

You ignore him and focus on the pleasure that erupted from your clit. Eren, dissatisfied with your disobedience, quickly forces his middle finger into your entrance.

Your pussy clenched around his finger and you look at him through widened eyes. He grinned and pumped his finger at a painfully slow rate. When you opened your mouth to complain, he added another. A shiver ran down your spine, making your nipples perk to the point it hurt.

You lean forward and rest your forehead on his shoulder as you let his skilled, slender fingers bring you closer to the release you so eagerly want.

His fingers rubbed against your plush walls as his thumb stimulated your clit. He curled them every so often, just to hear those pretty gasps and moans he loves so much. Through heavy breaths and mewls, you grinned against his fingers, desperate for that finish.

Eren chuckled. “Look at you, fucking yourself all over my fingers when a minute ago, you wanted to skip this.”

His words went straight to your cunt, making you clench around his fingers. You were so, so close. His deep voice and groans only guided you into achieving that high you wanted so badly.

Until he stopped.

“Not yet.” He pulled his fingers out of you. You release a quiet sob against his shoulder. Your body burned with the heat of your unaccomplished release, your thighs twitched under you, and your pussy throbbed around nothing, begging for him.

He moved you away from his shoulder and looked at your figure; his eyes darkened the moment your breasts came into his sight. He plopped down and grabbed one with his mouth, as his hand found your other breast. He sucked and bit on the nipple in his mouth while his other hand fondled with the other. A cold chill swirled in your tummy every time his teeth touched your sensitive nipples. It made your eyes sting as tears threatened to spill.

“Eren.” You close your eyes and pull on his hair. You couldn’t take it anymore.

He released your abused nipple with a pop. “Fuck,” he breathed and pulled away.

His thick fingers rushed to lower his sweats. When he did, he pumped his painfully hard dick a few times, swirling his thumb over his flushed tip. “See what you fucking do to me?”

You moan and swallow hard. You’ll never get used to the sight. He was thick and so heavy, his dick fell back against his lower abs, painting his fiery skin with precum. He pulled your body closer to his. When his tip touched your cunt, you both let out ridiculously whiny moans and curses.

“Gonna make you cum so good—fuck,” Eren murmured as he squeezed his eyes shut. He rubbed the tip of his dick on your clit.

“Yeah?” you whine.

“Promise.”

He grasped your hips and lowered you down on him. Your cunt ached with the way he stretched you open. You could feel everything. That one prominent vein along his dick that you love so much; his slight curve, which brushed so nicely against your g-spot; and the twitching of his dick that made your head so dizzy with lust, you could barely hear yourself anymore. The skin-to-skin contact had you so far gone, the only thought in your head was of hopping up and down on him.

“Feel so good—you feel so good,” you breathe as you lay your hot cheek on his shoulder.

“Yeah? Haven’t—even moved yet.” He swallowed.

You use his shoulders to lift yourself and dip back down on him.

“Fuck—that’s good,” he whined, which caught you off guard.

“Yeah?” You repeat the same movement. The tip of his dick, brushing against your g-spot and hitting your cervix. It felt as if you were being stabbed from how deep he reached. But that feeling quickly went away after his thumb found your clit.

“Fuck.” You rub your hips towards him, lift them, dip them back down, and repeat the same movement over and over until you were both panting messes. You tightened yourself around him a few times while lifting yourself, to which he responded by squeezing his eyes shut and grabbing on so tightly to your thighs, it left marks.

“You’re so big—fuck, Eren.” You dip your nails in his shoulders so hard you were bound to make him bleed. He helped you dip back down with the guidance of his big hands. your thighs twitched every time your clit rubbed against his pelvis.

Eren's legs twitched. “C’mon, go faster for me, yeah?”

“Ah—fuck—okay.”

You lift your hips in a rocking motion towards him and feel his pelvis dampen with your slick. You arch your back and dip back down. You knew it wouldn’t take long for that smooth, squishy spot of yours to be stimulated enough to have you seeing stars.

Eren suddenly took your hips in his hands and held you still. He moved and laid down on the big pillows under him, now lying completely flat on the mattress and having an entirely new angle of you in his sigh. He smacked you where your hip and leg connect to make you resume your movement.

He reached for your bouncing tits with one hand, and with the other, he rubs small and tight circles on your clit. He couldn’t tear his eyes from where you connect. You were swallowing him so well. You were so warm, so comforting, so tight. He threw his head back and groaned.

“Love this fucking pussy.” He began to add more pressure on your sensitive bud.

“Oh, god, Eren,” you whine.

“Gonna make you cum so good—fuck.” He pants. “Gonna make you so dumb off my dick, it’ll be the only thing you think about.”

“Eren,” you cry.

which was his breaking point.

“Fuck, c’mere.” He removed his hand from your breast and clit and took your hips in his hands; grip so tight, it stung. He bent his knees. “Sit up for me.”

You raise your hips and hold them in place. “Good fucking girl.” He grabbed onto you and began to slam his hips against yours. His abs, flexing, and aching, the faster he went. You lower your upper body until your cheek finds his shoulder, arching your back and keeping your lower body raised with your burning thighs. You bite on his neck to keep yourself quiet.

“Fuck, lemme hear you, baby.”

You let go of the skin on your teeth with a sob.

“That’s it. So good for me. So fucking good,” he pants.

He speeds up his pace and shoves your hips down to meet him halfway. A bunch of your gasps filled the air. You could feel him in your stomach.

“Gonna fill you up so good.”

Was what made the coil that had been building up in your stomach snap, and what sent a bolt of shivers down your body as you felt euphoric off your high. Your mouth hanging wide open, eyes squeezed shut as you cried against his skin.

The spasming of your cunt not only let Eren know that he could cum if he wanted to now, but it helped him get there. His aching thighs, calves, and abdomen tensed up as he felt his dick twitch in you, hot cum filling you up, making him feel like he was on top of the world for a moment until he came back down.

And you could feel it. You could feel his hot cum, painting your walls and shielding your cold body from the humid air outside--until the twitching of his dick stopped and you felt it pool inside your belly.

Your thighs couldn’t hold you up anymore, your lower body collapsed against him and he hugged your waist through breathy laughs. He drew small circles on your back as he kissed your damp forehead. He lifted your hips to pull out and groaned when he felt some of his hot release drip back down on his dick.

His eyes felt heavy, and his panting body, tired.

“You took me so well. You always do," he said, raspy voice making your fluttering eyelids heavy.

“I love you, ren.” You close your eyes and let the released hormones guide you to sleep.

He hummed and softly patted your head for a few minutes until he felt your heavy breathing on his chest. “I love you too.” He whispered after kissing the top of your hairline.

CHOSOSCUMSLUTT 2021 © All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, modify, or repost.

[pbandjesse]

Today started bad. And right now my allergies are very bad and I'm a little overstimulated so I'm working on calming down.

I slept okay. James woke me up to say goodbye but then we couldn't find my phone. It has called between the bed and the wall. I was able to fall back asleep and thing were alright.

When I woke up things started great. I felt good. I loved my outfit. I felt very cute.

But then I felt a little uncomfortable because my shirt was right at the top of my pants. But my long tank top was still missing and I tried a different shirt and it didn't fit under the top I wanted to wear. I was just going to hope for the best.

But then I went to the kitchen to grab my lunch and found James got me a bagel. I wasnt thrilled they left it out on the counter. Because Sweetp will chew on breads left out. But I tried to laugh it off. Then the enchiladas they packed were in the largest container we own. And I was just. Really frustrated. And then I couldn't find the cup and straw I left out for myself. And I was upset. I went to switch the container to a smaller one and found the cup in the dishwasher. So I went to grab it and dropped it and smashed a glass I really like and I was like shaking with anger. And my shirt wouldn't stop riding up and I had to leave but I was so upset. I grabbed my trunk of clothes and upturned the whole thing and still couldn't find my tank top. I had to take a deep breath and just go. I didn't deal with anything. I had to go.

The walk calmed me down. And things improved. But man. That was not a fun way to start the day. I texted James how mad I was. And I hate it because it always comes out as me being mad at them because it is safe to be mad at them but that isn't fair!! They weren't even there when everything happened that upset me.

But we talked. And I calmed down. And I really had a lot of fun with the kids. I was with the sunbirds for snack because Becky was out of ratio. I was able to have a bagel and chill with them and it was nice to have a calm space.

But for the majority of the day I was up with the blue birds. And hoenslty that was perfect because I got so many hugs.

It was hugs and reading and art. I played with scarves with them. We wore them as crowns and danced with them. It was a lot of smiles and little conversations.

Outside was fun. I had my tiny fidget spinner and they were fascinated by it. I wouldn't let anyone hold it but they could spin it and that was fun. I also let them "scare" me over and over and would make a huge deal of being scared. Then I would be brave and be like she you can't scare me but then screamed when they say boo. They are just so easy to entertain.

Lunch was fine. They are just very messy. I would get to go on my lunch soon after them and before they laid down.

I enjoyed my lunch a lot. But I was a little on edge. I was glad to go back upstairs to sit in the dark.

My nose started hurting really bad around that time. But I would be alright. I just watched videos on my phone and tried to catch my breath from three flights of stairs.

After nap I helped get them all packed up. We had snack. And while they were eating I was looking at a book and noticed it has a tear. I went to fix it but there was no tape. Ms Rachel said I could leave it in the library on the "book hospital" but there was tape there and so I grabbed a bunch of the books and took to just fixing them myself.

Ms Rachel seemed really excited and thankful. She said she just hasn't been able to have any time to fix them and was just so happy I was doing that. And for some reason the kids wanted to sit around in a circle and watch me tape the pages.

I did almost 10 books. One was not fixable as I couldn't find all the pages. But it was fun doing a task. But man, sitting on the floor hunched over made my back scream in pain. I didn't really know a better way to sit. So I would just. Hold it together. And once I was done I laid on the carpet for a few minutes while the kids out their jackets on and got ready to go outside. I would feel fine after that.

And I left the kids chase me outside. I can only run so long so I would run and fake out letting them almost catch me and when I was done running I would let them get me. And it was very cute. After a drink of water I would let them chase me again. But once I was done running it was fidget spinner time again. Honestly I really love being in the little little group. If there wasn't diapers it would for sure be my favorite age. But they lose a point for that.

I was done at five. So I would walk in with them and then head home. I was glad to be done.

James did their what to help me feel better. They were making us soup. And it smelled very nice. And they are working on fixing the garbage disposal I accidently broke.

I had to deal with some of the mess I had made.

First thing I did was assess. Because when Drew was here the other night we couldn't remember where I stored the extra large blankets. I remember today they are in the under bed drawers next to the wall. So I decided to take those out of there and move them to the open side. I also moved all our jackets (except for the bunch I have out to wear) to one draw and the sweaters to the other. James had gone through their close storage and decided on a few things to get rid of. And I put everything we didn't want in a trash bag. I moved the bed back into place once the stuff was stored. The blankets were harder to fold then I expected but I got everything to fit again.

I also went through my clothes and it all fits nicely even if I didn't fold anything. Easier to pick through.

I had to move out slippers out of the one drawer to make space for the blankets. So I decided to line them up under the clothing rack. And I found my tank top!!! I was so pleased.

I had taken a break in the middle of all this organizing to get on a video call with Jess and we went through her website project again. I made some comments about what I thought was good or I would change. But I think it looks great. She's really good at this stuff and I'm really proud of her for trying this new thing.

James finished the soup and it was very good. And after dinner we would jump into the studio closet cleaning.

This took almost two hours. Between moving things around and packing up puhtok stuff and making the space better for my shop stuff and my general art stuff. And I really wish I took a before and after pic of the closet but it is so much more usable now. I was very grateful for James.

The dishwasher started having foam come out because of a block because of the broken garbage disposal. But James fixed it and only a little foam was on the ground and I cleaned it up. No panicking.

I was going to do some printing tonight but I cleaned up my desk instead. Maybe tomorrow will be an art day.

I chilled in bed for a while and Sweetp was here and it was nice. But it made my allergies go crazy. So I got a shower. And now I feel better now that I've had a little time. Today wasn't a complete garbage fire.

And tomorrow is not going to be to bad. It's a long day but I am not doing a ton. I'm helping train someone and then I am giving an extended tour. And that is pretty neat. I hope it's a fun time.

For you as well. Sleep good everyone. Take care of yourselves!!

[gotham-rat]

pandemic headcanon time!

dick

by the sixth day, dick was starting to lose his mind in his apartment, and thought, “fuck it, I’m quarantining at the manor” so he showed up, in the same ratty t shirt and board shorts he’d been wearing for a week. alfred just sighed and opened the door for him to come in. he managed to dig up his robin themed fidget spinner he’d bought years ago, and constantly flicks it around. he’ll do anything to avoid the slightest boredom: walks on his hands, flips over anything he can, the smaller the space the better. he hasn’t had a vacation or break in years. he’s not used to do doing nothing. he hates it. every fiber of his being wants to punch someone in the face just to feel something. he decides the best way to quell the boredom is to pester his siblings. it’s gotten so bad that now, if he enters a room full of them, they’ll all scatter faster than he can blink.

damian

he’s an animal crossing quarantiner. you can fight me on this. and he has a weird obsession with red’s fake art. in fact, he’s picked up painting as something to fill time and will replicate the fake famous paintings. bruce thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world, and when damian throws his paintings away after finishing (he doesn’t care about them that much) bruce always swipes them and hangs them up and tweets about it. damian also is a little bit on the germ-freak side. not a lot, but the situation makes him uncomfortable. if anyone has to go outside he insists on masks and bringing hand sanitizer and staying at least seven feet apart. otherwise he’s been pretty chill.

bruce

bruce, like dick, doesn’t like being cooped up but can at least function. his kids have noticed that he spends just a little too much time on twitter nowadays though. he likes playing games at dinner like “would you rather”, but always takes it so seriously that no one else can really enjoy them. he’s slowly falling out of his work out routine. he ate cheese puffs for the first time because of jason. he hasn’t had time to read a book for fun in years, and now he’s going through stacks of them. he takes them out of tim’s room or orders them online. he’ll sit outside or in his office and read for hours. the cutest thing is when tim and bruce have both read the same one and they talk about. they’ll have full discourse about characters and plot points and arcs and sometimes even get into arguments. it’s pretty entertaining to watch.

tim

tim is, well, he’s definitely found a way to spend his time. if you walk into his room you’ll find three different boards tacked up on the walls. newpaper cutouts and prints and pictures pinned with red string on each of them. he hacked into the gcpd database and is pulling out a whole bunch of cold cases. he’s literally already solved one and called the victim’s family about it. out of all of them he’s probably broken the lockdown rules the most because his cases have required him to sometimes go out and look for people, places, etc. but he does most of it remotely. he stays in his room when he’s not working on a case, only emerging for coffee or a seriously needed melatonin. he’s trying to fix up his sleep schedule a little bit, but it’s not really working. he’s resolved to having at least one randomly placed nap in the day, which is better than constantly staying up.

steph

steph got the fuck out of gotham. as soon as word was spreading about a possible lockdown, she hugged them all goodbye and booked a cheap flight to california. she knows some people there and is currently quarantining with them. they have a beach house and everyday she’s outside: swimming, tanning, surfing, snorkeling. she’s embraced it fully as a well deserved break. and lord knows she needed it. she’s constantly facetiming the others, and making fun of them for being stuck in bleary gotham.

cassie

no one sees her, except when she comes out to swipe some snacks. at this point bruce isn’t really sure if she’s actually staying at manor. in reality, she is, she just sleeps a lot, or climbs out the window and onto the roof to chill. she sketches and sketches, having already filled up three notebooks since quarantine started. alfred is the only one who knows she sneaks out onto the roof. he doesn’t say anything. sometimes she’ll sleep up there and take pictures of the moon and stars and sunrise cause she likes something pretty to look at when she’s sad. her current thing is binge watching shows. she’s pretty obsessed with a few ones on netflix. she tends to hyperfixate on a few characters for a while before moving to others.

barbara

barbara is not at the manor. she’s staying in her own apartment but is rarely there. she volunteers anywhere she can. she sets up signs at the gotham hospital to thank workers, she lends a hand to the gcpd a lot when they’re short on staff and need help. she shuts lockdown protests tf down on social media. because of how big her platform is on twitter, she uses it to post updates and information and just keep everyone well informed. she’s the only batfam member who contracted corona with serious symptoms, but that was in march and she’s tested negative for it now. recently she ordered specific masks for everyone in the family, including alfred ofc, and sent it to them as gifts. when she’s not out volunteering or helping, she stress bakes. a lot. it’s all recipes she actually learned from bruce and she safely hands out her sweets to essential workers.

alfred

he has abandoned all responsibilities. the waynes can clean up their own damn messes. he literally just chills, checks on cassie, plays the occasional board game with dick. sometimes he does leave just to drive around fairly empty gotham. he doesn’t get out of the car and still wears a mask so it’s all safe but it’s just to relax for a bit. he’s also invested pretty heavily into some podcasts.

jason

jason is having a breakdown. he keeps spray sunscreen by his bedside, so when he’s sad he can spray it into the air and get a whiff of it for seratonin, softly whispering “beach” to himself when he does. he has stubble climbing over his face, mismatched socks, and is in the most need of a haircut. he’s always falling asleep on the couch, the kitchen floor, by the pool. he keeps trying to make food (and he sucks at cooking) and has almost cut off his fingers everytime. now he has three bandaids on his right hand and two on his left. one’s normal, another is pokémon, there’s a lightning mcqueen one, a bright pink one, and another is batman themed. now he just tosses something, anything into the microwave and consumes it mindlessly. he doesn’t know the time, or what day it is. he likes to float face down in the pool until someone comes out and says “jason, it’s time to get out before you die” and he grudgingly does so, only to go and lie face down in the living room for a while.

[iconsumeheadcanons]

persona characters autism headcanons!

hi im autistic and i started my day with sun so now im !!!!!!!!! some of these headcanons are from elsewhere on tumbr, but i dont know where :(((  so i am hoping someone out there knows that n that everybody knows that i love them <3

(also go check out mollypaup and i think hypeswap if you havent already! they post some good stuff autism+adhd hc too!!! i think.. oh! and thieves-in-the-palace!!!)

P5

Joker

there was some artwork from someone on tublr..where they pointed out that he doesnt really talk outside the metaverse so--hes hyperverbal as joker and just near nonverbal as akiren

he stims ALL THE TIME. that phone thing, the pencil thing, the little tappy tap of his foot, pulling at his bangs when hes embarrassed/smug. someone get him a fidget spinner. he’ll prob learn to do tricks with it

he probably sucks at focusing in class, like i know its just the game design but hes always surprised out of his daily “star out the window at the nearby office building” when his teachers ask him questions

mona mentions when the pt is at Wilton for the first time (after they run into shido) that joker eats like shit, and that could have multiple causes at the start of the story of course, but when i first played i thought that joker was a picky eater and that the variety (and amount of food) at the buffet would be an Ordeal...

tho mona makes that comment bc joker looked pale after having a little ptsd moment from shidos voice, but i didnt know that the first time i played

maybe when joker makes a face at ryuji putting so much ginger in his gyudon? joker probably does not like pickled ginger lol

his favortive foods are all spicy, which is why the curry he makes for his friends is always ‘overly spicy’, and why kasumi makes him a curry bento and joker kept going “...?” .... “....?!”

overly reflective glasses have been a great plus for him bc now he never has to make real eye contact every again!

mona Soft. play with Ann hair. maybe Braid. nice

puns (Gorou the Goroumet)

he has so many options to be straight up rude sometimes in game. he probably no clue on his own, which is why he defaults to Not Talking. people probably mention his constant scary face, which is just him being nonexpressive, squinting at all the fucking bright lights, and Tired

executive function who? we do everything last minute folks

high pain tolerance, which is why he was the kid that was always climbing trees in elementary school to get basketballs unstuck from the branches

his sixth sense lets him see treasure and possible places to climb/crawl bc 1. Shiny? Steal it. Steal it Now. and 2. Could i fit in that? Time to Find Out

probalby a bit of a klepto too oops. he’ll return it tho!! but he has to do it dramatically or he’ll die

cant sit properly to save his life

smells and touch are Great, they can keep him grounded when his brain goes off to police or dead rivals or guilt or

if a friend hung out with him and gave him total reigns of the agenda, he would choose to nap on the floor while his friend does something off to the side quietly

hyperfocuses on handy tasks (i.e. lockpicks, coffee brewing, cleaning, his part time jobs) and some things like movies and books. everything else is a tossup

his (normal) navigation app is his most used app bc he still doesnt know where hes going, even though he only goes to the same few places in the city

hates being sweaty, literally cannot stand it. probably double exhausted during the summer

but Needs Compression so hes often Struggling

Futaba

paraphrase from p5d “i have no motor skills so i cant play rhythm games :(” need i say more? (i will regardless)

echolalia all the time, from anime, memes, the PT

those headphones she wears all the time? noise cancelling ear protectors babey

only talks about her interests, “normal” talking is Not Easy, but she is still communicative w others despite her worries. shes not “hard to understand” at all but she feels the anxiety nonetheless

only talks informally, cannot talk ‘politely’ with out imitating someone around her

shes had meltdowns and anxiety attacks in game :( i relate so hard

Technology. thats it

def had an egypt phase that pops up every few months. probably came from yu-gi-oh

has Immune to Bright Lights buff.  joker is very jealous

“Time to make like a tree and leave!” and 30 other iterations

video game metaphors are the only ones that makes sense to her

probably relates hard to robot characters in anime for their general androgyny and confusion about human emotions and connections

probably gets told that shes “too smart to be on the spectrum” by teachers >:( she fails their classes on purpose

wakaba’s autistic too that just how it is

the Connection that she establishes with Joker is so Warm. my life goals include adopting an older brother like futaba has lsdkfjslkfj

also eater of 5 foods only, i mean, she brings cup ramen to the beach. i just really admire her...

hides in small spaces for comfort

doesnt she have like uhhhhh hyperthymesia or something like that?

Yusuke

art

his entire social link is learning how humans work, which i relate

talks seriously all the time

“sarcasm? who is that? are you saying I was sarcastic?...how?”

cant remember to take care of his body, and madarame did not help with that either

lot of uncomfortable staring, hes overdoing the eye contact thingy

infodumps all the time, doesnt know hes doing it

needs a lot of support even if he doesnt think he deserves it. no one ever complains about helping him out tho

visual stims my friends

he didnt know that you could look up pictures on the internet but he does know you can stream live videos of waterfalls and fluffy animales!!

I am certainly in the mood

for something salty today.

he and joker are scared of math. numbers do not interact

Yusuke, futaba, and akiren are a trio and i know this bc their first day of non-thievery interacts is Akiren clearing Futabas room w/o permission, futaba hyperfocusing on destroying medjed, and yusuke rearranging futabas figurines so they are more visually appealing

morgana is a support friend for all of them bc igor knows they need it

P4

Souji/Yu

yes, he mostly wears gray semi formal clothes bc parents tell him to, no, he will not changes this

Schedule or Death

“sorry, could you repeat that?” “huh? oh yeah, i was saying that--” “yeah that’d be cool.”

cats, fishing, he just likes to be quiet. you can literally spend a day at the beach just to think if you want, and that is what yu want

has a lot of scripts for things (of which he shares with nanako!) but if he runs out he just stops talking..

inaba is a godsend bc its so fucking quiet and warm

he Yearns to hold his friends hands, but he shies away from a lot of touch (excepting yosuke, teddie, and nanako)

Cooking and Cleaning makes the world better. he and joker vibe together with this

unlike akiren, he strong arms any executive dysfunction into Be Productive or Else. his punishment is feeling the pure anxiety of having to make up for ‘lost time’. (another symptom of his workaholic parents)

writes everything down, notes are very neat, has pages dedicated for bad doodles when hes not feeling his usual Super Classroom Focus

Cannot handle secondhand embarrassment (most often caused by yosuke) and will quietly slip away to random cats or origami folding

hungry, crunch crunch folks. probably needs chewelry bc he used to chew on his shirt collars when he was younger.

cleans up after everyone in the food court, constantly worries about them accidently hurting themselves. likely spends half of group conversations watching peoples hands

he canonically eats expired food, nanako plz help your brother

really clumsy, but people only notice after they decide that he is a cool person

video games are too chaotic for him

exhausted every night from the pure amount of masking he does, if a friend spends the night (or is like yosuke) they will know his more comfortable weirdo self (tho everyone knows hes a weirdo eventually)

hyperempathetic, sometimes just understands animals and children better than peeople his age or older

Yukiko

her jokes

she and souji get in ‘trouble’ together, she and joker commit crimes together

she and chie have to coordinate outfits, its important

actually understands metaphors, but does not understand people

like me, had no clue that creepy kid was flirting with her

she is very angry when she has meltdowns that might involve slamming doors and shouting. her parents call these ‘tantrums’ and ‘unfitting for a polite daughter’ but really thats because her meltdowns tend to be caused by arguments w her family after a long day of school and TV world traipsing

the metronome meme, except hers goes between Loudest Person in the Room to Quietest Pin Drop in the Planet. she is completely unaware of this

her atmosphere brightens when chie appears. that is not only the lesbian energy within her, but also because chie is like her Favorite Person

Cannot wear Pants. No (tho she wants to try it! but she puts them on and her soul instantly squashes)

happy flappy lesbian! watch out!

Naoto

the pouty face. all the time lskdfjlasdkf

hes really snappy sometimes and i love that for him. he and akechi should fight just to see what would happen (please read Bang Bang Shoot Shoot on AO3)

“do not touch me or my hat, thank you”

no one has ever seen him shutdown and no one ever will (except for his grandpa)(and kanji)(and rise)

probably likes certain food textures and will stand for nothing less, probably feels embarrassed about his preferences with friends

constantly jumps between ‘everybody hates me so i should act like them so they dont hate me’ to ‘i refuse to be anything but very comfortable as myself, and i dont care that im making you upset sir’

he and souji are the king and queen of subtle stims, but for unhappy reasons :(

does not make jokes. cannot joke around. understand? yes, do? no.

loose clothes are the only good clothes, but all tags and obtrusive seams will be obliterated by kanji tatsumi

not very empathetic so he probably comes off as an asshole to strangers (like when he throws away his classmates confession letters without reading them) but he tries so hard to sound comforting when his buds are struggling.

his understanding of others emotions/reactions come from his learning as a detective, which seems cold+clinical to others, especially compared to souji, whos completely unexpressive but very introverted people person

P3

Hamuko/Minako/Kotone

big personality!! very people-oriented!! koromaru and her are buddies!! when shes having a real bad time, shes very quiet and expressions turn off

interrupts herself in the middle of conversations all the time. no one knows where shes coming from. her brains is thousands of km ahead of her body

bouncey legs, swingin arms, twirlly skirt, little somersaults! when will she stop? never!

very obvious music stims with her hands and arms! people are like “oh there she goes! happy as usual!” shes listening to minatos heavy metal playlist

switches from exhausted to excited within milliseconds. no one can predict, not even her

SEES has to ask her for context all the time cuz she’ll just continue shit from 2 weeks ago without warning

professionals will assume shes very childish bc of how chipper she is, but she is beyond mature for her age and only feels comfortable enough to have serious conversations if a person has proved themself able to handle it

collects every little thing. her room is a mess and she has to get rid of most of it every time she moves :(

hates cleaning! smells bad, feels bad hhhhhgggg

dont let mitsuru-senpai see her bedroom

gets lost in the middle of conversations with others bc shes thinking about a story connected to one(1) word that was said earlier

 no sense of time and place, she just sees her friends and goes “ah, this is the right place, then” but junpei and akihiko are also lost so now theyre all screwed

Minato/Makoto/Sakuya

no talkies, no walkies

his story in the movies is him literally learning how to function around people he cares for

doesnt get jokes, expressions, body language, empathy, subtlety, metaphors, physical contact, or eye contact. aigis is probably the only person he truly understands right away

he is still nice to people because he doesnt see a reason not to be, but also he has very limited energy so only his senpai and old people get his most polite-kindnesses

cannot describe feelings for the life of him. the team wont know hes injured or sick until hes passed out

everything is too loud, time to drown it out with my loud ass music

rocking and chewing stims, ryoji is the first person to point him out for these subtle stims (not accusingly of course, just general pure curiosity and love for the uniqueness of humanity)

likes to cover his face with whatever is available, lives like a bat in a dark dry cave

will wear anything that has pockets and his blue/gray/black palette

sleepy at all times bc he never has much energy

when he was younger he probably needed a lot of support, especially after his parents died, because he wouldnt communicate like a neurotypical and would shutdown for hours in the middle of school without warning. probably missed a lot of lessons and field trips out of pure overstimulation

eating at all times. no preference, just whatevers closest

his meltdowns probalby include humming whining noises and curling up in a ball, which makes people want to touch him, but that is the LAST thing he wants. put a blanket on him! play some music! do not talk and do not expect him to speak

aigis is the only person who can touch him normally bc her hands are cold and he likes cold

never nude, feels mmmmmmmmm without clothes and probalby wears a full robe in the hotsprings

will not do things that take more than one step w/o someone else walking him thru it, which Same

[paperhatcollection]

A Duke and A Dad.

A fanic based solely on THIS picture by @honeycapp

To be fair, it’s not like they’d set out to get along from the beginning.

Which, and let’s continue to be fair here, wasn’t even the beginning from the start. But after years of ignorance and denial and paranoid thoughts that whispered across the mind at four in the morning- you had to start building a relationship back up from somewhere, and sometimes that work began in the middle of the story. Sometimes you had to dust out old cobwebs, and clean out the clutter, and find the cracked frame of a portrait you forgot you even had. Because remembering was painful, and it was the natural instinct of any part-of-a-human to avoid painful situations at all cost... or so you thought. So you thought.

You also thought nobody would ever willingly put another thinking, feeling being in pain when they had the power to help. But repression could be dangerous, and ignorance tenfold.

At first, nobody even knew where Patton had gone until he’d burst from Remus’s room in a full panic, with nothing but the echo of the Duke’s laughter following him down the hall. The idea had been quite simple in the beginning, really. Patton had wanted to meet a side of Thomas’s that he’d ignored and pushed down for far too long, had wanted to understand him in a way that wouldn’t leave him grasping for straws at every intrusive thought that wiggled and wormed its way into Thomas’s head. Remus had been excited at the thought of disturbing someone he’d never gotten a chance to disturb before, a side that (in his mind) had previously sat so ‘high and mighty’ atop a throne of acceptance, no matter what he seemed to do.

But then Patton came back and sat down on the only clean spot on Remus’s bed, ignored the way something was licking his ankles, and asked Remus through nervously gritted teeth where exactly he’d gotten the idea to wear an octopus on his head from, it was really- no thank you, he really doesn't want any blood. Yes, yes… he was very sure.

Patton didn’t know what he’d been hoping for, at the time. Peace, maybe. Of the mind, or the heart, or in general. He didn’t know. He’d been coming to realize he hadn’t known a lot of things, lately. More important things than he’d thought, anyways… Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he’d catch Janus watching him closely, but every time he’d turn his head to look, the snake-boi would have returned his attention to whatever else he had seemed to be doing. Patton had considered approaching Janus and asking him but- whenever he thought about it, his mouth felt dry and his throat felt closed off, and he was positive it had nothing to do with Janus’s own abilities at play. Remus would be… there, too. Not that he ever paid Patton any attention. 

But to be fair, no one gave anyone Remus any attention back. He was there. Always in the background, a consistent chatter to be tuned out, never the focus.

The next time Patton visited Remus, he took a stab in the dark and brought some homemade spaghetti, along with some garlic bread in his other hand. He watched Remus turn the tub of pasta over in his hands, as if trying to figure out what the hippity hoppity Patton had just given him. Then he’d popped off the lid, grabbed a handful of noodles, and shoved them into his mouth while grinning at Patton with far too many teeth. Patton had simply smiled back and remembered the last time he’d given Roman pasta. Sometimes, the twins looked more alike than they seemed to realize. After realizing he wasn’t getting too Patton this time, Remus had huffed and started to pick at the garlic bread, occasionally tossing chunks towards his dresser where they were snatched up by the jaws of… something Patton would rather not get a closer look at. Besides, who was he to go snooping in Remus underwear drawer?

(Remus caught him staring anyways, and figured hey if that’s what you wanna see pops- Patton excused himself while Remus was half undressed, but this time he left at a much calmer pace. He once again came back, at first to ask for the tupperware back, but spent all of five seconds watching Remus through the doorway before telling him he could keep it.)

It was a start, he supposed, and Patton soon turned it into tradition. He brought little gifts with him- first things based on what he knew Roman liked, but soon turning to things he guessed the Duke would enjoy, based on their slowly growing conversations and the things he saw littered around Remus’s room. (And Patton thought he’d been the messy side…). He’d tried bringing him a color book, but Remus had just eaten all the crayons and still somehow colored all the pictures in to be inappropriate images, and he’d tried giving Remus a fidget spinner but within five minutes of him having the thing it was made of knives and had an eyeball in the middle and followed Patton’s movements around the room. He swore it was blinking at him.

Then he tried branching out into a different direction- he brought Remus this newfangled thing he’d found called a ‘squishy’- this one designed for you to put slime inside so that when you squeezed it it came out through the mouth like… you know. And if when Remus squeezed it, it smelled a little too foul to be slime, well, his room kinda already smelled bad as it was. And then, after making a questionable gift decision at four in the morning, he got Remus a coffee mug shaped like a toilet. That very same morning, Remus showed up to breakfast drinking what Patton really hoped was coffee from that exact same mug. He’d also gotten Remus a plush shaped like an octopus with a little mustache, but he didn’t see it again the next time he’d visited, so he figured Remus must have torn it to shreds.

 One day, Patton had an idea that he… really wasn’t sure would work, but he figured it was worth the shot. Instead of bringing Remus something, he’d grabbed Remus and brought him to an empty room with some paint cans. Patton had handed him one- a green can of paint, and told him he’d always wanted to try just throwing around paint and seeing what would happen. So of course Remus threw the can of paint directly onto Patton.

So Patton threw a can of blue back on Remus in retaliation. And then Remus had laughed- dripping with blue paint, pushing it out of his face and winking at Patton, before tipping directly backwards and hitting the ground. Remus had spread his arms and legs back and forth- he was making a paint angel, Patton had realized, and he could only laugh cause… seriously, that was the most innocent thing he’d seen the Duke do up to that point. 

And if the two of them received a couple odd stares when they finally left the room a couple hours later- gosh the time had flown by- covered in more colors than Patton had thought possible, laughing at a joke that only made sense between the two of them... well, it was worth it in the name of mental health. Except… 

Patton wasn’t sure when something had changed.

Maybe it was when Remus had stopped waiting in the shadows of his room, under his bed or clinging to the ceiling above his door. Stopped watching every move Patton made, his eyes never leaving the moral side, morning star clutched a-little-too-tightly to his chest despite the little-too-wide grin he always wore. When instead his door would fly open when Patton got near it, or when Remus shoving a fistful of bugs in his face had shifted from trying to scare Patton to a genuine excitement at the new little… scuttle friends he’d found to add to the collection. Maybe it was the time he’d accidentally walked in on Remus sleeping- and yeah, it was always a surprise to see someone as chaotic and bursting with energy as Remus sleeping- and found him clutching a plush octopus to his chest, stitched up and patched where it had been ripped before.

Or maybe it was those times when Remus would find wherever Patton happened to be- sitting on the couch with a nice book, or stirring something in the kitchen, or at work trying to corral some of Thomas’s more runaway emotions- and suddenly Remus would be curled up at his side, clutching at Pattons arm, or his shirt, and not say a word. And slowly, piece by piece, Patton learned how to help Remus- push Remus too much, and you’d get snarls and scratches and screeching while the lights flickered. But a little nudge here, and a guiding hand here, and somewhere it wasn’t too bright and wasn’t too quiet- he’d found that Remus hated silence far more than he ever hated sudden or apprasive noises- and it would… help. Not magically make everything better all at once, but help.

Maybe it was that day Patton hadn’t been able to make it out of bed- everything had been too heavy. His arms, his legs, his eyelids, his thoughts. All he could do was wear his cat hoodie and fiddle with the edges of the sleeves, wondering if he should be feeling more… more something than the icky, heavy stone settled somewhere deep in his heart. When he’d been screaming at himself to get up, to do anything, as he watched the shadows slowly crawl their way across his wall. And then there had been a knock at the door- a quiet, timid knock, and then there was someone in there with him. A hand on his forehead, and then his cheek, and red eyes looking into him. And arms wrapped around him, and a warmth that made him shutter and cling to it, running his hands down fabric covered in glitter that clung to his hands and made them sparkle like a scattering of stars.

Maybe it was the time Remus had snuck up behind him once, in the living room, and grabbed Patton suddenly to spin him around in a circle. And Patton had just laughed, and called out Remus voice in a voice as cheerful as a bell, and everyone had suddenly looked at him like they suddenly realized something Patton didn’t. Maybe it was the way Remus would act around him- loud noises and sudden movements and grabbing his hands to bolt to the other side of the house just to watch Remus throw himself headfirst into the trash- maybe it was the way Remus never treated Patton like he’d break if he rose his voice a little too loudly. 

Maybe it was the time Patton had casually mentioned that he didn’t really know how to dance, and Remus had laughed, all high pitches and barking, and said that it was easy. That he could teach Patton lickity-split. Then he’d licked Patton’s cheek. And Patton had accepted, cause why not, while rubbing the drool off his face with the back of his hand, and when he’d finished doing that he’d looked up to realize they were suddenly in a ballroom. And Remus had taken his hands, and led him through the basic steps- except Remus had two left feet, probably literally, and Patton couldn’t help but think of an old saying about the blind leading the blind. And Patton had laughed, and pulled Remus closer, and hummed an old disney song as he fell in rhythm. And maybe they weren't the best dancers- maybe they stumbled and occasionally tripped over each other, and had to brush themselves off and start from the beginning- maybe they weren't perfect. But maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe sometimes you’ve cleaned out the cobwebs, and rebuilt the walls, and fixed the frame- and you make something new, and better, and something you cherish so much more than all the old things you miss.

Maybe you can make something magical, between a joke-cracking side and a side-spliting Duke. Maybe

Only one way to find out.

[collecting-stories]

Edible - Connor Murphy

A/N: Mentions of weed use and psychiatric hospitals. 

///

If you listed out all the weird places that you could possibly meet a cute guy, the psychiatric hospital’s inpatient ‘boys’ ward would not be one of them. And yet, the kid by the window who was only half pretending to listen to the woman seated across from him was way cuter than you expected anyone in this particular hell-hole to be. He was tall, even sitting down, caved in on himself in some effort to disappear, you could tell he was tall. And thin. Like a vogue model or something. His hair was tied back in a bun and he had on a black hoodie that he kept picking at the sleeves of. He looked bored but maybe it was just medication, and the woman across from him looked seconds away from bursting into tears. You felt like you’d walked into your own ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’ except you weren’t a patience. You were just visiting one.  

Louder than he needed to be and talking a mile a minute about a video game you didn’t understand, your brother was seated on the computer chair next to you. He was in the middle of free time when you came to visit and unwilling to lose his time in front of the computer.  “And then you can run your guy up on the curb like this,” he continued, driving a pixelated jeep through an obstacle course of building.  

“I like the car.” You pointed out. Hospital visits made you antsy but you’d been religious in your scheduled appearances at the hospital. It was coming on October now and you had been here every weekend, Saturday and Sunday, since May.  

“It’s pretty good. Will’s got a camaro on his which is awesome! I wanna get a Tesla.” Ryan continued, pulling up a side panel of cars to show you exactly which one he planned on getting.  

“Dope.” You nodded as if any of the cars meant anything to you. “Hey Ryan, who’s the new kid?” You asked, dropping your voice to a whisper. You had chosen the perfect seat to be both a total creep and an interested older sister.  

Ryan glanced over at the boy in the corner, at the most 7 years his senior, and shrugged, “dunno, we’re not in the same group. Tyler’s the oldest in our group.”  

The groups were broken up into two sessions, from what you understood when the ward doctor had first explained the hospital to your mom. Eight to thirteens and then fourteen to seventeens. New boy had to be your age.  

You kept watching as the woman finally said goodbye, attempting a hug that he didn’t return and then hurrying out of the double doors. She was here less than you thought she’d be, less than you. It was just the three of you in the rec room now. There were two on this floor and this one was mainly used for visitation, probably because it was a little nicer.  

“Hey new kid do you wanna play Road Blocs with me?” Ryan called over to him, pointing to the screen of the computer.  

New kid looked over and yeah, he was even cuter when you could see his face unobscured. It sounded weird to say it but he looked something like a sad bunny rabbit, if that was a possible facial trait. The sad at least, was a definite. And tired, judging by the purple beneath his eyes. The cute ones could never just be mentally stable could they?  

He picked himself up off the couch and walked over slowly, moccasins shuffling and you thought they looked out of place on his feet. “What is it?”  

“You drive this car around-“ Ryan went into an explanation of the game while new boy pulled a chair up on the other side. He looked over Ryan’s head at you, eyes meeting. You wondered later, because in the moment you were nothing but dazed and had managed only a small smile before looking away, if he looked at everyone so intensely. Like he was digging through their entire being to figure them out in one glance.  

“Sounds fun.” You weren’t sure if he was humouring your brother or actually interested in the game but either way he took the mouse from Ryan and began driving the car around the lot.  

-

“Hey,”  

You looked over toward the window to find Connor there. He gave a slight wave and then signalled for you to come over toward him.  

“Hey, how’s it going?” you asked, looking back toward the double doors your brother would be coming through soon.  

“Alright, didn’t think I’d see you.” He replied, looking back down to his chipped black nails.  

“I can’t come on Saturday because I have a college interview so I figured I’d stop by tonight,” you replied, sitting down on the chair beside him.  

It would be March soon and you had been coming every weekend just like you always did. Only, things had changed quite a lot since October. It wasn’t just Ryan that you visited anymore but Connor too. He hung around the visiting room on the weekends while you were there with your brother and he even made sure to look out for the younger boy during the week. Mostly though, he used his phone and computer privileges to contact you.  

The two of you would talk about nonsensical stuff, like music you liked or movies you wanted to go see or plans you had for the summer. He talked you through homework when you were stressed and he was allowed his hour on the phone. Connor had become someone who was a friend but who was also a little more than just a friend. You didn’t drop everything to spend an hour on the phone with just a friend. Or log on to your computer to email with him the second your phone alerted you to the first message in your inbox. Connor was not just a friend but neither of you had broached the ‘more than friends’ discussion yet.

“Excited?” He asked, twisting to see you better.

“Hardly, I just keep imagining myself screwing it up completely.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.” You replied.

Connor reached over, taking your hand in his and surprising you enough that you could practically hear your heart hammering in your chest. Could he tell?

“You’re way too smart to fuck it up, trust me, you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks...but are you sure your mom hasn’t been sneaking you weed?”

“I wish.” He laughed.  

The double doors swung open and Ryan came bursting through, looking happy as ever and holding an envelope in his hands. When he saw you he made a beeline for your chair, throwing himself onto your lap and hugging you. Connor let go of your hand and shifted away in his chair.  

When he had calmed down enough to stand up you decided it was safe to speak, “Hey, how’s it going?”  

“Good! I got stickers from Will, do you want one?” He asked, holding the envelope out to you. All the stickers inside were red rectangles with white writing, SUPREME printed on them. When you had plucked one out he passed the envelope along to Connor.  

“Are they all the same?” Connor asked, fishing out three. He unpeeled one and stuck it to the front of his grey t-shirt.  

“Yeah, I don’t know where Will got ‘em but he gave me the whole envelope.” Ryan replied, “I told him they’d be evenly distributed.”

“Well thank you, I appreciate the distribution.”

“Do you guys wanna play roadblocks?” Your little brother was already making his way over to the computer when he asked, still hooked on that game even after all these months. It was structured enough that he didn’t get bored and chaotic enough that he could follow along without being confused.

“Still with this game?” You asked, grabbing a folding chair to sit next to him.  

Connor followed behind you, sitting on the other side of your brother like always. Weekends had become almost predictable. You would meet both Ryan and Connor for computer games. Halfway through Connor would break so that he could visit his mother, who still religiously came in, just like you, and then he’d rejoin the small group. You were certain the first time he joined you was some bizarre fluke but he continued to go along with whatever game Ryan was hooked on.  

-

The gymnasium was filled with families, a buzz of indistinct conversation floated through the air as Connor made his way down the side aisle to where he saw Ryan standing, spinning one of those fidget toys that had been so popular a year ago. When Ryan saw Connor he waved, an excited smile on his face.

“Hey!” Ryan gave Connor a hug, causing the older boy to tense up from the sudden contact. When he pulled away he held the fidget spinner up for Connor to see, “I just got it, it glows in the dark.”

“Oh yeah?” Connor took the spinner, cupping his hands so that it was covered and peering through. “Damn, it does.”  

“Told you!”  

It was graduation day at your high school and you’d bought an extra ticket for Connor. Since his discharge from the hospital he’d spent most of his free time at your house. With his phone returned he was able to text you whenever he wanted and he did, often, but neither of you had progressed passed the ‘just friends’ status. Cute boys who were emotionally oblivious were probably your type though, so it wasn’t surprising.  

Once the actual graduation started and the gymnasium became quiet, except for the person speaking on the stage, Ryan started to get antsy. Connor felt a nudge to his side fifteen minutes into the principal’s opening speech. When he looked over Ryan was shifting positions on his seat. Your mom looked over at the same time, leaning in and whispering for Ryan to behave and sit still.

“Sorry, I’m warm.” He said, shifting once more.

“We can go outside?” Connor asked, looking to the side door. It was warm, with everyone in there. He wouldn’t hate stepping out. “I don’t mind.”

Outside was where you found Ryan and Connor, post-graduation, sitting on curb. Or at least Connor was, Ryan was racing back and forth asking Connor to time him to see how fast he was. When he saw you exit the gymnasium he veered off his path, running over to give you a hug.  

“Sorry,” Connor piped up, “we kinda missed the whole thing.”

You shrugged, “hey Ryan, mom’s wants you inside.”  

“Alright.” He released you, hurrying over to the doors and heading back inside while you walked over to Connor.  

“Thanks for coming out here with him, he can’t really do sitting down.”

“Oh trust me, I know.” Connor replied, standing up and brushing off his jeans. He appraised your graduation gown and the nice outfit you wore underneath briefly, “you got pockets?”

“Why?”

“I got you a present.”

“Mmhmm.” You hummed and nodded. Connor pulled a plastic ziplock out of his sweatshirt pocket with what appeared to be an oversized rice crispy treat inside. You took it skeptically, unzipping the bag and taking a whiff before laughing out loud. “Did you just hand me an edible on school grounds?”

“Not like you can get detention.”  

“Oh my god, I thought your mom told you to stop smoking.”

“Well I’m not really smoking am I,” he shrugged, grinning, “by the way, only a little at a time, it’s pretty strong.”

“How much have you had?”

“Are you suggesting I gave you my leftovers?”  

“I’m suggesting you like to dip.” You replied, breaking off a tiny piece and eating it before stuffing the bag into your pocket.  

“I haven’t had any...from that bag at least.”  

You shook your head at him in mock exasperation. You didn’t mind the weed habit, if it made Connor feel better you weren’t going to argue with that. He was balancing it out with CBD oil (a cheaper alternative, you had pointed out, in case he wanted to save his money for something else) which helped Cynthia feel less like her kid was a drug addict. Even your brother took CBD gummies to help his moods.

“Anything else?” you asked. Connor had told you that he had something important to talk to you about today and you were sure that it wasn’t the edible. Or you hoped at least.  

“Anything else?” He repeated, raising an eyebrow and looking at you as if he was trying to figure out what you were getting at.  

Maybe the edible really was it.

“Anything else you needed to tell me? You texted me this morning and said-”

“I know.”

“So?” You hated when he did this. Played dumb and made you drag out the entire thing.

“So?”

“Connor! What is it?”

“What’s what?”

“I swear to god Connor...what’s the important thing?”

“Oh yeah, that,” he smiled when you groaned at him in annoyance, “go on a date with me?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”  

You rolled your eyes, smacking his arm gently, “stop repeating everything I say...and, okay. Okay, yes I’ll go out with you.”

“Thank god, otherwise I was gonna take the edible back.”

“What?” You laughed, “that is not contingent upon us dating! It’s a graduation gift.”

“Me taking you on the date is the graduation gift.” He replied, reaching into your pocket and taking the ziplock back so he could break off a piece of rice crispy.  

“What about...other dates, after that date?”

“Oh, you’re paying for those.”

-

My younger brother’s mom put him in a psychiatric hospital for half of the year and he just got out at the end of December, right before Christmas so...kinda based the younger brother in this on him. 

[laylacooke]

Lesson Learned || Ariana & Layla

timing: sunday evening (6/21)  parties: @letsbenditlikebennett & @laylacooke ft. ulf (mentioned) summary: ariana’s anger gets the better of her. warnings: death mention (rip celeste), explicit language

Layla had returned the night before, just in time to insist that Ulf and Ariana chain her back up. The talk she had had with Frankie had been a step forward. The second instance of hope, after Lucas had given her a small pendant for her birthday, showing that not everyone had thought she was evil incarnate walking the streets. But as the compulsion began to fade, and her heart started to turn cold again, Layla’s mind clouded with only one thought, and that was to make Ariana, Ulfric, and anyone else involved in this ridiculous plan to pay, “You do realize how wrong this is right? Making me sit here all fucking night chained to a chair? It’s inhumane. I thought you cared about me and my well-being. You know, I’ve only got so much blood in my body. And this ghostly complexion should be enough of a hint to you, that I’m bleeding out!!!” The monster inside was willing to say anything, especially at this point and had she been given her phone, she would’ve set the whole town on fire with her words. “Do I at least get one phone call? If so, I’d like to call my girlfriend and tell her how you’re holding me hostage you fucking oompa loompa excuse of a wolf.”

When Ariana had left the other night, she hadn’t thought to grab more than one change of clothes. While she was sure Ricky would have gladly lent her an over-sized t-shirt or five, she wanted a few more comfy pants and some work outfits. Layla was currently chained up in their room and her fists balled up just at the thought of seeing her. The thought of the reckless route she took to avoid her own emotions left Ariana seething, especially in the midst of her own grief. Every single day already felt like a battle and this was another layer that she could barely take on. Her trust was betrayed, and she had a hard time separating this heartless version of Layla from the friend she’d grown close to in such a short time. The moment she entered the room, the dramatics had already begun. She rolled her eyes and retorted, “If you prefer, I can just go ahead and turn you into the cops. I’m sure they’ll be much more fucking accommodating and have tons of vegan options for you.” She went through her closet, pulling out a few signature items and grumbled, “Yeah, okay, we’re really letting you bleed out when Ulf and I have both already given you stitches, but go off. You’ll just feel like shit about this later when you can’t just turn off your fucking feelings. And no, you don’t get a call. I don’t have a phone right now.” As much was true, she had accidentally smashed it when she’d been showing Ace her photos from prom. 

With Ariana just a few feet away, Layla was seething. With every breath she took in anger, she could feel her lungs pressing into her ribs. She had kicked and squirmed most of the night only to bust the stitches yet again, but this time in an attempt to get one of them close enough to make them pay. However, when it didn’t work, she was stuck bleeding all over the floor, “Call the fucking cops, and then watch as I rip their heads off one. by. one. And you know I think I’ll start with Stranger Things. He looks like a good one. Nice and meaty.” She licked her lips. “I can taste the coffee and donuts now.” The words coming out of her mouth were far from anything she would’ve ever said. And after having the compulsion wear thin, the cursed toy made sure to return its power three-fold.

It had hardly been five minutes since Ariana returned to the trailer and she found herself already seething. She didn’t know how Ulfric did it. The older wolf seemed to just have an endless amount of patience when it came to them. She could hear Layla rustling around under the chains as she packed some of her clothes up and let out a huff when she spoke of hurting the cops. Her head whipped around and she sneered, “Oh, I’m sure you’re just the biggest and baddest in town. Hate to break it to you, but there are other supernaturals in the police force. One’s way bigger and scarier than you or I could ever be, but by all means, it’s your funeral.” She wasn’t sure how true that was, but Detective Stryder had to be something if she knew about the supernatural. Whether it was more threatening than a werewolf, she had no clue, but Layla could use a little reality check. She wasn’t invincible. She rolled her eyes. “Can you just shut the fuck up already? You’re not going anywhere until you’re un-hypnotized.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Docile little Layla. Over in the corner cowering at the world. Well I’ve got news for you, Little Wolf...Ain’t gonna happen. Because I’m here now. And you, and Clifford the Big Red Doof can’t do a fucking thing to stop me.” Rocking back and forth in the chair, she started to work towards flipping it on its side. If she could get the chains loose, she might be able to break free. And as she rocked harder and harder, she finally managed to get the thing on its side, despite the grunt she let out from the pain of the chair and the awkward position she was in. As she continued to kick and struggle, she growled in frustration.

Instead of giving Layla the satisfaction, Ariana for what had to be the first time ever, held her tongue. She’d rather tell actual Layla how she was feeling than… whoever the hell she hypnotized herself to be. The fidget spinner was tucked safely away in her pocket so she could take it to Winston. This would all be over soon. “Whatever you say, Layla,” she huffed as she zipped up her bag and heard a thud. Without a beat, she’d whipped her head around and ran over. “What the hell are you doing? No wonder you keep breaking your stitches open, dumbass.” One more little quip, not quite as spicy as what was being dished out, but she had no interest in chatting or arguing with this fucked up version of her friend. 

Layla kept kicking and fighting to get free, and regardless of what the chain was doing to her wrists, she finally managed to wiggle her way out. With her arms free, she reached out for Ari’s leg in hopes of grabbing it, but the chair was holding her back from still being chained to it by the waist and her feet bound. Growling, she began pulling herself, and the chair, forward, “Come here, you little purple haired bitch!” Claws coming out, she jammed them into the floor to get traction as she struggled to get to Ariana.

A low growl escaped Ariana as she felt the other wolf trying to grab her ankle. Bitch. Of course, she couldn’t just chill out until they fixed this whole thing. It was hard to deny the anger and resentment that was boiling up inside her. She took a step back, watching Layla’s claws dig into the floor. “Are you fucking serious? You’re the bitch here, Layla. Instead of dealing with your fucking problems, you turned off your conscious so you wouldn’t have too.” She pulled the fidget spinner out of her pocket, staring at it momentarily, her face contorted in an angry sneer. She clenched it in her fist, feeling how delicate it felt under the weight of her heavy palm. “My sister is dead because of me. She just died and now I have to clean up the fifty messes you made around town because you misused a toy, I warned you against using? And I’m the bitch? You know what,” she yelled, her voice strained as her cheeks reddened and tears threatened to pour down. She squeezed the fidget spinner feeling it crack in her hand and she clenched her hand around it harder, feeling the pieces come apart. She let the broken toy fall to the floor and gave it a stomp for good measure. “See how big and bad you are without your stupid fidget--” She cut herself off, realizing that may have been a bad idea. Would it even turn her back to normal? She watched the redhead carefully, pleading for this to just make her normal again. 

Her claws continued to dig into the floor as she moved closer and closer to Ariana, but when she looked up again, she noticed the fidget spinner in Ariana’s hand. Eyes wide in desperation, Layla panicked trying to get to the other wolf faster, but it was too late. With the crack the red headed wolf cried out in immense pain. The surge through her brain was intense and with the break and stomp on the toy, it left the teenager laying on the floor unconscious. However, it was the surge of feeling coming back to her heart, that gave her the jolt that brought her back, and all at once the young wolf felt guilt, shame, heartbreak, grief, anxiety, and a number of other feelings that couldn’t be contained. Tears immediately flooded her cheeks as confusion filled her mind. The question of what had she done was an understatement, and when she realized who was standing over her and how cruelly she had treated her, Layla quickly scrambled away from Ariana as if she were that same skittish wolf the first day they had met, despite the fact that she was still chained to the broken chair. Cowering behind the bed in the corner she normally slept in, she couldn’t bring herself to look at the girl who’s heart she had broken the most, aside from Frankie. The one person that had taken her in, despite not knowing a damn thing about her.

For a moment, Ariana was frozen in place, unable to believe what she had just done so carelessly. The stroke of luck that breaking the thing had been the right answer didn’t erase the guilt that was now settling, or rather unsettling, her stomach. She’d always had a tendency to act before she thought, and it dawned on her how terribly wrong this could have gone. By the way Layla was cowering away from her and crying, she knew it was her again. She could just feel it, but her head was reeling. This was too much and suddenly the walls of the room felt like they were closing in her and her heart was pounding against her chest. “Layla,” she croaked, voice hitched in her throat, “Lay, please say something.” 

The teenager was gasping for air. It felt like the world was coming down around her. What she had felt at the party seemed minuscule to the wave of shame and fear that hung over her like a 70-pound weighted vest. Did Ariana hate her? Did Frankie hate her? Did the entire town hate her? Layla had never been this aware of her feelings, and it felt like she was suffocating. Her eyes unable to focus on one thing as thoughts raced through her mind, she stayed crouched in the corner shaking, until Ariana had said something. With broken brown hues, she looked to the other teenager and with bated breath, replied in a whisper, “W-What did I do?”

Something in Ariana broke hearing Layla crying so pitifully on the ground. Despite her own pain and how much more the other wolf had brought her this week, she still hated seeing her so broken up. She was still mad and knew she would need time to trust her again, but right now, the hurt in her friend’s whisper took precedence. She kneeled down on the floor, scooting toward the corner Layla was in and refrained from reaching out, knowing it might startle her. “You-- I don’t even think I know everything. Just try to breathe, okay? It’s going to be okay.” 

Layla’s heart was shattered. She was lost even more so than before anger had sent her into making the most regretful decision of her short life. The chains had remained around her and the broken chair was restricting her movement, but as she noticed Ariana coming forward, Layla pressed herself further away from the girl. She had already hurt Ariana more than she could ever try to fix and having the girl comfort her didn’t seem right, when it should have been the other way around all along, “Why did I do this? I’m so sorry, Ariana. I hurt you, and- What did I do?” Sobs left her lips as she struggled to catch her breath.

Ariana frowned as Layla moved further away from her and tried to swallow the anger that still threatened to spill out. She needed to air out all the ways in which Layla’s actions had hurt her, but now wasn’t the time. She needed time to come to terms with all the things she had done, and it was clearly overwhelming her in this moment. Tears pricked at the edge of Ariana’s eyes as she assured, “Nothing that can’t be fixed with time and a few apologies. Just-- breathe, okay, Lay. I’ll--” She realized Ulf had the keys for the chains. “Can I get you anything? I need-- Ulf has the keys. I should--” The words came out of her mouth hurriedly as she tried to keep herself steady.

It was like Layla was trapped in her own mind and couldn’t get out. Except this time, it was from all the emotions she had tried to push out of her life. The pitiful decision she had made had come back to bite her in the ass and hard. But the word ‘fixed’ gave her pause. Could this be fixed? She could easily list the ways she had hurt multiple people in the town including, “Oh God, Sam..Sam is he- Did I?” In her warped state of mind, she hadn’t even checked to see if he was okay. There was so much she needed to know, but the mention of chains caught her attention and sent her looking downwards. Grabbing hold of them, she lifted them up weakly, before letting her hands drop in defeat. What was the use? Looking back at Ariana, she grew quiet. With a very subtle shaking of her head ‘no’, she let the sobs subside as she tried to take in everything all at once as if it were some punishment to her actions, knowing she had a long way to go, before anything would ever feel okay again. 

As she watched the other wolf sob, Ariana found herself at a loss. Even with her own anger still welling up inside of her, she couldn’t stand to see Layla like this. It didn’t matter that it was her own actions that got her here, she still hated seeing someone she cared for hurting like this, and she had no idea how to fix it. Things weren’t okay and probably wouldn’t be for a while. Hell, she even needed time to move past what Layla had put her through while she was already reeling from losing Celeste, but right now wasn’t the time for a fight. “Sam’s going to be okay,” she said softly. She slowly backed away as Layla shook her head and let out a sigh. It was all too much right now, even for her just trying to quiet the part of her that was still filled with rage. “I’ll get Ulfric, just stay still. You’re hurt, okay? Ulf will-- Things will get better again. We’ll talk things out soon, but I can’t-- I just can’t yet.” She walked away, tears falling from her own eyes as she tried to figure out where the keys were stashed. Her hands were shaky as she texted Ulf, hoping he’d be home soon. He’d know what to do. He always knew what to do and that’s who Layla needed right now. Not her, still trying to fight down her own anger and feelings of resentment. She wished she could be the bigger person and let this all go, but the wounds were still too fresh. She promised herself that soon they’d be able to talk through this. 

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Ajax: Fidget Spinners III

           After a quick bus ride where Pax and Lou Ellen played cards and iSpy (Watch Out for Romans edition), they arrived in front of DOA Recording Studios.

         Lou Ellen figured out the Underworld’s entrance much quicker than he could have. And, she knew where Luke, Axel, and Jack had snuck off to.

         When Pax asked, she giggled. She took off her invisibility spell off as soon as the centaur left, allowing him to see her smile. “Alabaster thinks I don’t hear him cussing about doing research for Luke’s missions. He might fight with Luke, but the two work together really well.”

         That was a relief to hear. The idea of the top two badasses on the boat actually hating each other—that sounded like a formula for smithereens instead of a functional boat.

         Lou Ellen also came prepared for their up-in-coming deception. A few muttered words and she had a convincingly caved-in skull with blood in her hair. The sight upset and disturbed Pax. He and Matthias had sneaked into too many zombie films to see one of his friends as a perfect WWZ mascot. On a more personal level, he’d also seen his dad kill too many people he knew. You know, for important reasons. Like when they messed up taking out the trash.

         Lou Ellen twirled, making her hair flutter around her. The locks didn’t poof out enough, being weighted down with fake blood. “How do I look?” One of her eyes was completely busted and the other had red veins streaking the white.

         Pax swallowed, trying to give her a grin. “Like you’ve been hit by an 18-wheeler.”

         She rubbed her hands together, a little too close to Matthias’ signature move. One hand looked like it was covered in road rash. “Ready to join me? We’ll have it look like a nice pipe went through your chest.”

         Pax perked up. This part would be awesome. He closed his eyes and hopped from foot to foot in anticipation.

         She spoke a few magical words.

         Pax didn’t feel different, though his ears popped, the same way they did when Axel used magic.

         When Lou Ellen burst into giggles, he cracked his eyes open. “Lou Ellen!” he complained.

         “I—I’m sorry! It was supposed to be your chest!”

         Pax now had a massive, see-through hole in his groin. His pelvis looked like the residue of flirting with a giant.

         “Now people really won’t be able to tell if you’re a boy or a girl,” she said, gleeful tears streaming out of her bloodshot and missing eye. The watery socket made her disguise less convincing, something Pax probably should point out.

         He felt the corner of his mouth twitch. “Do you think the Grim Reaper will get angry if we mess with him?”

         They did some quick exercises to stop laughing. Mercedes had given him tips on how to stop. Sometimes, she’d sit Pax in a chair, bring Matthias in, shove some chop sticks into Matthias’ nostrils, and inform Pax that she’d tase Pax if he laughed.

         It was easier since he and Lou Ellen could move around until they were out of breath. During the training exercises—watching Matthias try to bat a stick out of his nose?—that was horrible.

         After some jumping jacks, they entered the lobby of DOA Recording Studios. Lou Ellen said this was the most conventional way to get to the Underworld. Pax wondered what unconventional ways there were. Inside, there were other dead people—real dead people—wandering around or sitting on black, leather benches. Muzak played over a loudspeaker. Everything was grey, like the interior decorator had intentionally made the place as drained of life—as would make sense, being Death’s Doors.

         There was an elevator on the far wall.

         In front of them, towards the center of the room, was a podium. Atop it, stood a handsome, African American man with bleached-blond hair. He wore a silk Italian suit that was such a dark red, it was almost black.

         The suit made Pax freeze. He hated suits like that. His father wore suits like that. So did the men that worked for his father.

         His throat constricted. There was no way his father’s influence reached this far, did it? Could his father have bribed the ferryman of the dead? That sounded like something his father would do.

         Fortunately, it was the wrong shade of red. Papa liked burgundy. Pax tried to ease his breath, and tried to laugh along when Lou Ellen burst into another fit of giggles at the hole in his groin.

         Charon, the Grim Reaper, looked very confused by their laughter. He sighed and continued to write something in a small planner.

         Lou Ellen marched up to his podium. She bit her lip to cut off the giggles. “Hi, Sir Grim Reaper,” she said. “Looks like we’re in the right place.” Supposedly, this would go faster if they called him sir.

         The man slowly set his pen down. He glanced up at her through a pair of sunglasses. He looked skeptical. “You seem awfully calm and happy to be saying that.”

         Pax slipped an arm over Lou Ellen’s shoulder, beaming at Charon and trying to ignore that red suit. “We’re Goths. This is like, the ultimate experience. And we died together.”

         Lou Ellen slipped her hand around Pax’s waist. He feared she would accidentally tickle him. “What’s not to be calm and happy about?”

         Lou Ellen would never be into Pax like that, nor he into her. They had an agreement: if he helped her get alone time with Axel, she would help him get alone time with Alabaster. Nothing had happened from it yet, but they could wear the opposing older sibling down.

         “That’s a… unique perspective,” Charon said, “How did you die?”

         “Car accident,” they said in harmony.

         Charon looked bored. “You’re too young to drive.”

         “Duh, why do you think we’re here?” Pax put a devilish twist on his smile. “Sir.”

         Lou Ellen shoved his shoulder. “Pax!” she cried. She turned back to Charon. “He’s just messing around, sir. I’m sure our chauffeur will be here any minute.”

         They had no chauffeur, but Charon didn’t need to know that.

         Charon stared at them for an uncomfortable period of time. Pax struggled not to jump from foot to foot. Charon pointed his pen at Lou Ellen. “Cracked skull.” He turned the tip of the pen to Pax. “How specifically did you die?”

         Pax sighed, stepped back from the podium, and glanced down. “Crushed pelvis. The shock killed me before the bleeding.”

         Charon winced. “I am… so sorry,” he said.

         Pax hoped this scheme wouldn’t come across as a challenge to the Fates. He would rather keep his pelvis intact. There were some hot guys and girls out there, but none hot enough to die from a crushed pelvis.

         Charon’s terrifying gaze bore into them. “We had a security… issue recently. You two seem awfully calm for being dead, Goth or not. Are you sure that you’re deceased?” He set his pen down, folded his fingers, and leaned forward.

         From what they heard, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover snuck into the Underworld a year or two back. Pax and Lou Ellen were prepared for this skepticism.

         Lou Ellen grinned. “If I wasn’t dead, could I do this?” She reached for her nose. Though she was trying to remove that, her chin dislodged instead. She really needed to work on her aim when manipulating the Mist.

         Charon glared and pointed to a sign on the podium. It read:

         No playing with disembodied limbs in the waiting room.

         “Oh,” Lou Ellen said. She sheepishly shoved her chin back onto her cheek. “Sorry.”

         “Lou Ellen you put that back where it belongs, you disgrace.”

         Someone reached over to rip her chin off her cheek and deposit it properly at the bottom of her face. That person then slipped a hand around either of their shoulders.

         Pax felt fingers lightly touch his ear, like a reminder his ear could be ripped off as easily as whomever had altered her chin. The scent of sandalwood and incense made Pax’s head dizzy. Pax glanced down and almost gagged. A line of intestines dragged along the floor, leaving red smears along the grey tiles. All he could think about was linked cartoon sausages dipped in BBQ sauce.

         There was no way Pax could eat BBQ any time soon.

         Pax’s gaze shifted to the blood soaking the boy’s pants and shirt. The skin was ripped clean off the boy’s arms, exposing tendons better than any biology model. Nausea hit Pax’s stomach when he saw the face. It was sickly white. The brown hair was slicked to the boy’s forehead with blood or sweat. Alabaster’s glimmering green eyes and scowl were the only part recognizable.

          “You must be the chauffeur,” Charon said amicably.

         “It appears to be so,” Alabaster growled. His fingers pinched Pax’s ear. From the whine in Lou Ellen’s voice, he had pinched her as well.

“You’re barely old enough to drive yourself,” Charon said.

“Yes, hence the car accident,” Alabaster said. He released Pax and Lou Ellen to fumble around a flap in his shirt. His hand accidentally jammed into his ribcage. Finally, he produced a plastic-wrapped container and tossed it on the podium.

Charon didn’t touch the blood-soaked package. “What is this?” he asked, taking a step back and checking to assure no blood had gotten onto his shirt sleeves. Pax doubted it would show up on the red. He often wondered if that’s why his father picked burgundy.

         “It’s our payment,” Alabaster said, “We’re in a bit of a hurry.”

         Charon raised an annoyed eyebrow. “We’re in a bit of a hurry, Sir. I don’t take—”

         After examining the package for a moment, his jaw dropped. He glanced from it to Alabaster suspiciously.

         Alabaster slid the package closer to himself, out of Charon’s reach. “An Ermendegildo Zegna slim fit two piece. Limited edition silk. Your size.”

         Pax was too stunned by Alabaster’s appearance to fully understand what he said. From a quick glance at the package, it looked like some kind of clothing.

         “You’ll have to wait until the next elevator,” Charon said. He drummed his fingers on the podium. From what Pax could tell, Alabaster had Charon in the bag with whatever article of clothing that was.

         Alabaster opened his mouth as though to argue. Then he threw a hand up to his lips. He coughed once.

         Blood splattered around his fingers.

         Charon flinched backwards. He tried to snatch at the plastic wrap, but wasn’t fast enough.

         Even with his new ailment, Alabaster grabbed it. Once the suit was in his hands, he took another step back, the hacks becoming more violent.

         “Oh titans—oh titans!” Pax cried. “What’s wrong with him?!” He grabbed Lou Ellen’s shoulder, shaking her. Pax’s mind was at its limit. He hadn’t processed what Alabaster looked like. He couldn’t handle seeing Alabaster’s exposed organs tremble with each cough. This was supposed to be a fun jaunt to the Underworld to annoy his brother. It was quickly becoming a nightmare.

         Her mouth hung open. She shook her head. “I—I don’t know. I’ve heard rare stories of—”

         Blackish red liquid gushed between the Alabaster’s fingers. His whole body shuddered.

         Charon took a panicked step backwards.

         “—spirits that don’t handle being incorporeal well so will—”

         Lou Ellen didn’t get to finish her explanation.

         Alabaster dropped his hand to clutch at his leg. He threw up. That blackish liquid splattered all over the grey floor.

         Pax trembled all over. “What do we do?!” he demanded. Thoughts froze. Alabaster always knew what to do. He was the witchy one and the one who knew more about undead. Pax and Lou Ellen were learning from him. But, if he had some kind of ghost sickness—could ghosts get sick—?

         Alabaster took in a rattled breath. He raised a shaking hand to emphasize his hold on the clothing. “Let us down right now, or I’ll use this bag as a vomit bag,” he threatened.

         Charon’s flinched. “Don’t!” He began to fumble with some keys on his belt. “We—we have an emergency ride that—”

         Pax didn’t hear the rest of Charon’s sputters. He slipped an arm under Alabaster to help steady him. Although Pax’s shirt sleeve was dusted from Lou Ellen’s undead effects, he used the end of one to wipe blood from Alabaster’s mouth. Underneath the wheezes, Pax thought he saw Alabaster smirking wickedly at Charon.

         Glancing at the blood smatters on the floor, Pax suddenly wasn’t sure which person to feel bad for.

 Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you and your families are staying safe! Stay tuned next week for Part IV to see what ails Alabaster (likely having to babysit two monsters….)

[daily-capaldi]

The Big Read – Lewis Capaldi: “I make jokes because I’m comfortable with who I am”

The breakout star of 2019, Lewis Capaldi has the midas touch and the world at his feet – but he still likes talking about his pubes and dreams of meeting a girl who'll break his heart for real. NME Deputy Editor Dan Stubbs meets the cocksure 23-year-old in Dublin for a Buckfast sesh and quickly discovers a legitimately hilarious talent who's far from the “big fucking annoying cunt” he thinks he is.

Lewis Capaldi is miming a range of sporting activities. He bounces an invisible basketball around the stage. He boots an imaginary football into the crowd. And after some minutes of this, he poses with an imaginary dart in his hand. Every time he mimes pulling back to throw it, he changes his mind and walks over to take a sip of Guinness instead – to the delight of the crowd. When he finally throws the thing, they roar with approval, before goading him into downing the rest of his pint. And of course: he does. 

It’s November 21 at the Olympia Theatre, Dublin. So far Capaldi has spent 10 minutes playing three songs and 15 minutes doing what, in the most affectionate terms, can only be described as dicking about. It shouldn’t be this funny to watch, but it really is. And the price of witnessing this spectacle? Depends when you got your tickets. A tout offered to take NME’s off our hands for €500 outside the venue. 

A year ago this may have sounded like madness, a sign that the world was heading to hell in a handcart and we’d be closing out the decade in a post-apocalyptic new reality, eating boot leather and watching jesters for entertainment. But in 2019, Lewis Capaldi has proved, conclusively, that what the world was waiting for was a pasty-faced, pasty-loving, 23-year-old Scot with an act that’s 50 percent heartbroken balladry and 50 percent improv comedy. And it is a worldwide thing – Capaldi is a global hit, a bona fide phenomenon. A superstar whose first encounter with NME is backstage, hurtling along the corridor clutching a handful of items. “Got my passport, my acid reflux tablets and my water – and that’s all I need!” he says, whizzing past. “And now, I’m off for a small pish.”

When listing Capaldi’s many 2019 achievements, they start to lose meaning, like contemplating distances in space, or making sense of the costings in the Labour manifesto. But here are a few: The Brits’ Critics Choice award. A Number One album with ‘Divinely Uninspired To A Hellish Extent’. A Number One single with ‘Someone You Loved’ in much of Europe, the US and the UK, where it spent seven weeks at the top. The hardest touring artist of the year, playing over 250 shows. A scene-stealing Glastonbury appearance.

If you’re to believe the stories in the Scottish tabloid press, Capaldi’s music can practically cure leprosy. He’s even had a beef with Noel Gallagher, once a mark of honour, but now a tussle with adversary so easily shot down it’s a bit like watching the moment someone first beats their dad in an arm wrestle. 

Yesterday brought news that Capaldi been nominated for Best Song at The Grammys, which in early career terms is the equivalent of being up for the Best Actor Oscar for your school production of Macbeth. “I’m up against Billie Eilish, Lady Gaga, Lizzo, H.E.R., Lana Del Rey, Taylor Swift…” he says. So he’s in there representing the men? “Yes, at long last!” he jokes. “At long last, straight white men finally have representation.”

“If I’m being honest, I did think ‘Old Town Road’ would be nominated,” he says, being serious now. “Maybe if I win I’ll Kanye myself. ‘This should have gone to ‘Old Town Road’! (But I am going to keep it)…’”

Capaldi is an expert at shrugging off his achievements. His unfaltering humility is a huge part of his appeal but even he concedes it’s starting to seem a bit forced. “When I read my interviews back, I always think if I wasn’t me I’d think: ‘you’re full of shite’,” he says. “Like, stop saying you can’t believe it. You can believe it! But it is so surreal and it seems like almost quarterly it kicks up a notch. Like, yesterday with the Grammys, yet again all this shit’s getting more and more mental, more beyond belief.”

Capaldi watched the Grammy nominations on his laptop, which was resting on his chest with the screen close to his face – a set-up he describes as his “home cinema” – and he admits he did get properly excited at the news. Mostly, though, he tends to find himself reacting to things how he thinks he should. 

“I’ve got a very bad way of being like, So you’re supposed to feel this way in this moment,” he says. Like when someone passes away? “Exactly, yeah. Like, four months after my grandma passed away, I’m like, ‘Fuck, my grandma’s died,’ and I’m in Somerfield or something. I mean, not in Somerfield, because it’s not been open for fucking years.”

Capaldi even plays down the success of ‘Someone You Loved’, the song that scored him the Grammy nod. In his eyes, it’s just “one of my songs that’s doing a little bit better than the rest”, but it’s already become a popular standard to sit alongside Robbie Williams’s ‘Angels’ or Adele’s ‘Someone Like You’, one of those tracks that will be soundtracking marriages and burials for years to come. Which of those would he prefer it be used for? “Burials,” he says, with no hesitation. “Don’t start falling in love to my fucking music, right? See if I see people kissing at my shows, fucking stop that! These are sad songs, you bastards.”

Like Lewis himself, a large part of the charm of ‘Someone You Loved’ is its absolute universality, which is not to say it’s banal, more that everyone who has lost someone at some point in their lives – which is most of us – can identify with it. For Lewis, it was the aforementioned loss of his grandmother that proved the catalyst for the song, but he made it more open to romantic interpretation because it felt “too morbid” to write explicitly about. 

And it didn’t come easily. Where other songwriters boast about dashing off huge hits in barely the time it takes to play them, Capaldi admits to labouring over his compositions. Writing songs, he says, is “a massive pain in the fucking arse sometimes”.

“Growing up I read interviews with people like Paul Weller, Paul McCartney – all the Pauls – and they’d say the best songs just sort of fall in your lap,” he says. “After six months at the piano writing ‘Someone You Loved’ I’m like, ‘You fucking lying bastards, that’s taken me fucking ages.’”

Many of Capaldi’s songs, which he endearingly describes as ranging from “big piano ballads to bigger piano ballads” draw on his first major relationship which – you may have guessed – is no longer a going concern. But it wasn’t a dramatic event. “Adele wrote her album about a relationship breaking up in a bad way, being jilted I think,” he says. “I wrote mine about a relationship that just ended, just fizzled out. I’d love to be jilted by someone, then I could be as successful as Adele.”

I ask if he worries that – at 23 – he doesn’t have a great deal of life experience to draw on. “I spent my entire life writing this first album,” he says, “but the stuff I’ve experienced in the last year has been much more of a growing experience than living in my mum and dad’s house in fucking West Lothian.”

How about the fact that his next girlfriend, whoever she may be, will be on different terms, it being impossible for her not to know she’s dating Lewis Capaldi the world famous pop star? “Well, I don’t know. It’s not like I’m Justin Bieber,” he says. “Today was the first time I’ve ever got out of the car at a venue and someone screamed. Normally people just shout something at me that I’ve said on Instagram about my pubes. I guess, at worst, my next partner would think I’m one way because they’ll hear the songs and think I seem very nice and level headed, but then find out I’m not.”

What’s the reality?

“Big fucking annoying cunt.”

It’s slightly unfair to question the depth of Capaldi’s life experience, because at the age most of us were familiarising ourselves with yo-yos, pogs or fidget spinners (delete as appropriate), Lewis was embarking on his music career. He began performing at 11, largely in pubs and clubs in the conurbation between Glasgow and Edinburgh where he grew up. The experience of having to hold his own in intimidating spaces at such a young age probably explains much about his easiness around people. 

“I found that at 11 it was, ‘Oh he’s quite cute, he came and stood up here and he’s doing very well.’ When I got to 14, 15 and my voice changed and I lost any remnants of cuteness – which as you can tell have not returned to me – that’s when I started to pick up a bit of the patter. You get to know your way about how to speak to people.” 

Around that time, Capaldi actively worked on changing his vocal style to something more like the wolfy howl we hear today. What was once a ”high and smooth” voice had broken. Inspired by Paolo Nutini and Joe Cocker, Capaldi added some gravel. “I thought it would be a good idea to put a bit of rasp in, to make it sound even more terrible,” he says.

For years we’ve been force-fed sensitive young men-next-door with beanie hats, beards or lumberjack shirts singing to us about their problems. In a quest for authenticity, they’ve presented themselves as troubled, serious souls. Capaldi, meanwhile, has given us the sensitive songs with a side order of toilet humour and the kind of prolific, creative swearing worthy of The Thick Of It‘s Malcolm Tucker, as played by his distant cousin Peter Capaldi. 

Stand-up comedians often make a point of referring to the most funny-looking thing about themselves as an icebreaker with the audience, a way of getting them on side. Capaldi has the same trick – there’s not a single thing about his looks or his music you could say that he hasn’t beaten you to. Try and come up something better than saying he looks like “a melting hippo”, we dare you. 

He has zero pretence – he’s a guy who can literally piss himself on stage and laugh it off. “That only happened once,” he says. “And I’ve always been like that, even back in school. If I was meeting someone for the first time I’d be like, ‘Hello, how are you? I’ve got diarrhoea and I could spew or I could blow at any moment. It puts me at ease, being honest.’”

“People think I make jokes because I’m uncomfortable,” he adds. “Actually, it’s the opposite – I make jokes because I’m comfortable with who I am. I say that I’m a chubby bastard because I am a chubby bastard.”

I put it to him that, possibly, he may be the first body-positive male icon – an important thing given Capaldi is part of a generation of young men who feel under enormous pressure to have an Insta-chiselled body. “I don’t know if I can accept that, because I probably don’t use the correct vernacular,” he says. “It’s probably not good to call yourself a chubby cunt, but it’s never been something that’s bothered me. I’ve been a very slim man, I’ve been a man who’s gone to the gym, but even when I’ve done that someone calls you fat anyway, whether it’s your ma, your da, your best pal.”

Capaldi hasn’t, as of yet, had any sort of pop star makeover. He still looks like a kid who’s moved out of home for the first time and is stacking up the washing to take to mum’s. He does, however, have a personal trainer on tour and has been exercising every day. “It’s more of a mental health thing,” he says. “It gives me energy and keeps me happy. I mean, when I’m actually doing it I fucking hate it so much, but it feels better after.”

I ask how his mental health is bearing up to his new everyday reality, an extraordinary experience for anyone to process. “That’s what I think about taking the piss out of things,” he says. “I take the piss out of doing things on stage and how mental it is because you have to, because it stops you getting caught up in it. Summer last year I started having massive panic attacks. I was supposed to do Austin City Limits but I had to cancel because I was just having panic attack after panic attack, and I thought I had something seriously wrong with me, because I’m a bit of a hypochondriac. And I went and got a fucking MRI scan. But they said I was just anxious, just recalibrating to this new fucking lifestyle. So I said, right, cancel everything for three weeks, and no one gave me any shit for it.”

At showtime, the atmosphere at tonight’s gig offers a glimpse of the bubble Capaldi is living in these days. The Olympia is a grand old theatre and Capaldi could probably have sold it out 50 times over; the reaction from the crowd is something like Lewmania. 

Afterwards, we head backstage again, where I’m ushered into a room containing about a dozen members of Capaldi’s family. I’m plonked on a chair right in the middle, handed a massive wine glass full of Buckfast by his cousin and grilled by his dad, a fishmonger and the very driest of wits, about my intentions for this article. He’s seriously proud of his boy, having supported him since the very beginning, even playing the supportive parent role when Lewis auditioned for Britain’s Got Talent aged 12. 

The afterparty moves to a private room at a nearby pub. Lewis’s hulking great cousin – the one who brought the Buckfast – is getting the shots in. His auntie is looking on, concerned, as two girls chat him up at the same time. “He’s only a wee one,” she mutters. While his friends and family enjoy the party and a certain NME journalist accidentally smashes the first of a series of glasses, feeling the effects of downing that Buckfast in an ill-advised attempt to curry favour with the family, Lewis makes his final rounds then politely excuses himself, looking a bit hangdog about it. He has another big show tomorrow. Sad to leave your own party, you imagine.

At points in the interview, Capaldi had been making a short, forced coughing noise, which he shrugged off as nothing. But the next week, he cancels a number of shows on health grounds, having been warned by his doctor that he risks losing his voice altogether if he doesn’t take action. In the end, he plays just four more gigs of the UK leg of the tour – in London, Edinburgh and twice in Glasgow for the homecoming finale. All further activities are cancelled by management, including a follow-up NME interview, but he is sent to complete the year’s touring commitments in the States before heading home for a well-earned few days celebrating Christmas with his family, which he says typically involves plenty of booze and lots of piss-taking. If you think you’re feeling ready for the break today, spare a thought for Lewis.

Next year looks to be just as busy as this one. He is, right now, just about the most in-demand young man in the world. At some point, he’ll have to start thinking about his next album too. “I don’t know what the fuck it’s going to sound like, I don’t know what the fuck it’s going to be,” he says. “Ballads, havin’-it tunes, I don’t know. I’ve got voice notes, melodies, stuff like that, but that’s just me and an acoustic guitar.” 

Considering what he said about his hypochondria, it’s likely the idea of losing his voice is weighing heavily on Capaldi’s mind. But he’s already decided there’s a backlash coming anyway. “You do get warned, as you’re coming up: ‘By the way, everyone’s gonna turn on you pretty soon’,” he says. “I guess I’m always just kind of waiting for it. I’m very doomsday. Like, if it’s not happened yet, it’s gonna come. And I can’t wait for the downfall!”

He might be surprised. People have plenty of different reactions to Capaldi’s music, but it’s pretty much impossible to find someone who doesn’t think he seems like a bloody great bloke.

And besides – if he ever finds he can’t sing, he’d make a killing at The Fringe as a physical comic. 

The extended edition of ‘Divinely Uninspired To A Hellish Extent’ is out now

[acrobaticcatfeline]

The Fear of the Dragon Witch (triplets rolorem) Chapter One!!!!!

Word Count: 2762

TW: remus, deceit, swearing, sibling rivalry, I projected on Roman so anxiety, I think that’s it, let me know if I missed anything!!!

Notes: Well it’s not posted when I said it was, but you know I got distracted so here it is, have the triplets fic we’ve all been waiting for!!! Hope you enjoy!!!

Pairings: side logicality, possibly more in the future.

Summary: “you are the absolute worst!” Roman had a hectic life, he had a full time job basically in theatre, honors classes, major anxiety and ADHD. Oh. And he had two brothers who were minutes apart from him in age. As you could guess, high school is a bit stressful.

“you are the absolute worst!”

Roman sat on the ground beside a chair that now seated his brother who just smirked down at him. He begrudgingly stood up and looked at his other brother who was watching with calculated indifference. He pouted and went to sit on the other chair, just to fall on his ass again. His cocky brother let out a delighted cackle and he finally sat in the stupid chair before he could recover.

“you’re an obnoxious haughty jackass and I hope that you choke on deodorant.”

“wow that’s creative baby bro! oh we’re so pwoud of youuu!”

“fuck off! I’m literally a minute younger than you!”

“you two act like toddlers. Hurry up, we have to get going, I don’t want to be late.”

“I don’t wanna be late… blah blah rant rant dick joke”

“Remus I’m going to literally drag you out of the door don’t test me.”

“do it you won’t no balls”

Remus very much regretted the next two minutes as he was, literally, dragged out of the house by his ears. Roman also felt secondhand regret as he had to rush even faster to finish getting ready. He ran out the door, locking it behind him, and jumped into the car. He grinned at the fact that he automatically won shotgun because he wasn’t mouthing off to Logan. He settled as Logan started driving, fussing with his hair in the mirror, before pulling on his Once beanie. He futzed around with it until it looked right and then stimmed with the hem of his Rent shirt, humming the song his shirt referenced quietly. He shook his shoulders trying to adjust his jacket without using his hands. Regardless of what it said he was not succeeding at being more ‘chill’. He was what would have happened if you asked a witch to fill a doll with anxiety and excessive amounts of energy with no coping mechanisms left to spare. Oh, and a love of the arts. He sure did love the arts.

“Ro, take this.”

Logan had handed Roman a small box, and Roman looked at him for a moment before opening it. In the box was a Maui hook on a cord, a spinner ring with a bird flying on it, and a fidget spinner designed like captain Americas shield. He smiled then looked at Logan a bit confused.

“why are you giving me this?”

“because you keep ripping your shirts when you play with them. That shirt was expensive, I’d like it to last. They’re stim toys, a spinner ring, a spinner, and a chew necklace. They’re silent and not destructive, I thought it might help.”

“…did you get this yourself?”

“mhmm. Saw them at the mall after work. Why?”

“its nothing, just… you didn’t have to get these for me lo. You should save your money; I know these aren’t cheap.”

“I think you forget that the whole reason I have the job I do is to buy you guys gifts. Mom and Mimi have the whole money thing handled.”

“yeah but-”

“Roman I love you, shut up and let me ok?”

“…ok”

“you guys are gross”

“and you act 5, what’s your point goblin”

When they got to school they all went their separate ways quickly, Roman giving Logan a brief hug before running off. Logan didn’t have to walk far to bump into his best friend Virgil and his significant other Patton. He glanced briefly at the chain around Patton’s neck and smiled seeing they were using their pronoun necklace. He laced his hand with Patton’s, bringing it up to place a kiss on it then went back to idly swinging. He let out a soft complement for Patton’s dress then started chatting with his two friends about last nights assignments.

Remus on the other hand found his friends still stalling in the parking lot, waiting for him. He wandered over with a grin on his face, glancing as Damián leaned on his motorcycle while talking to Remy. When he was close enough, Damián, Remy, and his brother Toby all gave him a smile. Damian threw out a bland shallow insult then kicked Remy before urging all of them to follow him to class.

Roman had to trek across campus to meet up with his friends. He had made a b-line to the drama room, grinning wide as he saw his favorite people doing one thing or another on stage. He saw Valerie swaying around mid-stage with a broom, singing quietly in a voice that was beyond rehearsed, Joan, who was fidgeting with some of the wires on the walls, their SO Talyn sitting nearby and humming a tune, and he saw Terrance, standing on some of the set pieces, fixing up other pieces, all while singing wonderfully to one of the songs from the upcoming musical.

He climbed up the stage offering hellos to everyone and making his way to the ladder center stage, climbing up to adjust the cording for the hook that hung there for a yet to be finished prop. After fully fixing it, he descended and went to the prop corner where all the props, finished or not, sat. He grabbed the giant moon and three different cans of paint and his personal paintbrush set and started coating the crescent with the scattered look of craters with the occasional splash of pure white accenting the light blues and grays and the dark blacks that formed shadows. After about 10 minutes, he heard the backstage door clatter open and he smiled. He turned his head with the rest of them, their eyes all landing on Mr. Sanders who had two drink holders and a donut crate. He smiled back and lifted his arms carefully. Then set everything down on the table near the door.

“coffee and donuts anyone?”

Everyone walked over in time, to grab their coffee and their donut, knowing exactly which one was theirs before walking over. When Roman finally got up from his project and got his, he grabbed the one in the holder with nothing else, separate due to its contents, and grabbed the Boston crème donut. He took a taste of his drink and smiled; Starbucks had some amazing hot chocolate. He sat back down next to his project and set down his drink, quickly snatching up the blow-dryer to speed up the paints setting process.

The five of them were always there in the mornings, they were in fact, trusted with their own sets of keys for the theater and the smaller classroom adjacent. Well technically 4, as Talyn wasn’t actually in the class, but they were consistently there, and was always helping when they could spare the time. They helped before and after school, and they held lunch meetings every day, which would eventually devolve from Important Drama Class Discussion to gossip circle. They would pop by in between classes to see if they could help, they would create sets like magic, not there the day before and completed by the end of the next, they were the committee that helped Mr. Sanders choose the musical for the quarter, they helped grade, they did everything a TA did and more without being asked and without having a TA credit.

The four students all took at least two different classes with Mr. sanders and also had leading roles in their departments. Roman and Joan both lead tech, Joan being the stage manager and Roman being the assistant stage manager, and Valerie and Terrance would aid there if they didn’t always have a spot in the musical productions. Most of the time the two of them would sit and run lines for hours at a times, and often Mr. sanders would join them, taking the parts of the other characters they weren’t playing. They had a class with just the four of them, and then Valerie and Terrance had an acting specific class, where Joan and Roman shared a technical class as well as a stage prep class.

Roman didn’t know how the others had time to do all of it, since they all had super intense classes outside of theatre and jobs on top of it all. He didn’t have a job, he had accelerated in middle school, so he was two years ahead in English and math, and a completed second language course, and he had finished his last math credit the year before, leaving him with world history, biology, and a senior level English course, he also had a dance class, but nobody was going to talk about that. He wore a face mask in that class and had the teacher call him a different name because he was embarrassed about it. He was sure if anyone saw him doing ballet that his life would be over. Not even his brothers knew, his moms did though, and they were very supportive. That was completely irrelevant.

The others had just left to help Thomas-Mr. sanders! Get something from his car, leaving him to his devices. He stood up, hot chocolate in one hand, a broom in the other and he started to sing to himself, dancing about the stage with eyes closed in bliss.

“Babe, there’s something tragic about you Something so magic about you Don’t you agree? Babe, there’s something lonesome about you Something so wholesome about you Get closer to me No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony No ‘who cares’, no vacant stares, no time for me”

While he sung, he spun around and around, oblivious to the world, even the loud clanking of the door opening. He got louder, more confidant, he leapt over the obstacles he knew were there, as if his eyes weren’t shut and he was aware. Valerie and Joan had pulled out their phones, quickly starting a video, not moving other than to let their teacher get a better look. Roman sung with a deep emotion and a vibrato deep in his chest, having perfect form in his singing as well as with his dancing. His falsetto rang out just as strong and he just continued to dance and sing.

“Honey, you’re familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door”

And then his eyes opened, and he was glad he had drained his cup because it flew out of his hands as did the broom as the calm bliss drained from his features and filled back up with panic and fear. He pressed to his chest, blindly checking for his book bag, backing up slowly before turning and leaping off the stage and running out the doors, the screams from his friends and teacher calling for him going silent in his ears as the only thing he heard was the blood pumping through his head. He hid in the bathroom stalls, sending a text to Logan.

‘Help help Logan I can’t breathe I’m in the bathroom next to the theater please I can’t I can’t breathe’ it had an immediate response, shorter than most his texts ever are, a simple ‘omw’ shot back seconds later, and within 5 minutes he heard the door open and Logan call his name. By then he had been chewing on his new necklace obsessively, and when Logan called for him, he scrambled up and out, throwing himself into his brothers’ arms. Logan held him protectively, calmly waiting for the sobs to quiet. Eventually they did and Logan pulled back to look at Roman properly. Roman’s hair looked stressed and messed up almost beyond repair and his beanie was pulled lower than normal. He frowned.

“Roman what happened?”

“it-its nothin, its real- it’s really dumb I should- I should just suck-suck it-suck it up, it doesn’t ma-matter I’m sorr- I’m sorry lo I just- I just-”

“Roman breathe. Breathe first. I’m sure its not dumb if it caused this ok? Just breathe and explain when you can.”

“o-okay. …they saw- they saw me singing. And-and dancing and I can’t believe I was so dumb to let them see how am I gonna face them now lo they’re gonna hate me!!!”

“hey. You’re making jumps in logic. I know you understand the connection, but I don’t okay? How are you getting from your friends seeing you singing to them hating you?”

“because! Because! Um… I-I don’t know, I just, I know they will!”

“Roman what you’re experiencing is a cognitive distortion. You’ve come to the conclusion that you singing will cause your friends to hate you, and I know from experience that if you had any real reason to believe that they would hate you over something this inconsequential you wouldn’t have befriended them. Have faith in them ro. Give them a chance to prove you wrong before deciding this.”

“… o-okay. Do you, do you really think they don’t hate me?”

“I don’t know your friends very well, but I highly doubt anyone would hate you for this. Now, when you’re ready, go back to them. I’m sure they’re worried about you.”

“yeah… yeah okay. Thank you, Logan, you’re a life saver”

“don’t mention it.”

Roman took a few more deep breaths and gave Logan one last hug before going back to the theatre room. He shyly opened the giant hall doors, feeling like an ant in the huge auditorium. The first face he saw when coming back in was Joan who was sitting on the edge of the stage on their phone, legs dangling off the end. They raised their head at the doors sound and brightened. They sat still however, and then came Mr. sanders. He had rushed forward and met him where he was with an outstretched arm and a smile on his face. Roman took his hand and let out a yelp as he was dragged forward. He couldn’t quite concentrate on what his teacher was saying but he knew he was smiling so he hoped it was good.

“-Roman can you sing what you were singing before for me again? Please?”

They were on the stage now, and Joan was nearby with a wide smile. He looked between them and Mr. sanders, and slowly and cautiously nodded. He began the song again, slowly, quietly, but by the time he was at the chorus he was belting out the lyrics once more. His chest felt light, like it was filled with helium and was floating away. His friends all stood grinning at him as he sung, and he was elated.

Imagine for a moment that this was a child’s cartoon, impossible wacky things happen to show emotion. If it were a tv show he would be flying, hair blowing around his head as he was fully submerged by the pure joy of singing. This isn’t a tv show however, and so its just a boy singing his heart out on stage. He wrapped up the song, shocked to see his teacher nearly bouncing from excitement.

“you’re our lead!!! You are a perfect cast!!! You have the perfect range and dance style and I haven’t seen you act but Roman you’re it!!! You’re what we’ve been looking for!!!”

“wh-what? No, I, I can’t do that! I couldn’t get on stage and perform like that!!! I-I didn’t even audition! You-you can’t just, just give me the part! Mr. sanders I’m honored but I can’t let you-”

“Roman, I know you can do it. Also, it’s quite exactly my job to give kids the parts they’ve earned, and that song was enough to see that you deserve that role. You can still say no I guess, but really Roman, I honestly believe you’re exactly the person I’ve been looking for this role. I would be forever grateful if you took me up on it.”

And what could he truly say to that? To his closest friends who looked so thrilled, so proud of him. He couldn’t say no, that would let them down. He looked up at his teacher, the man who would be his mentor for at least another two years after this one and said yes. He agreed and he was terrified. But, singing and dancing made him happy, so he doubted he would end up regretting it completely. He brought his chew necklace up, absently chewing as his peers and teacher cheered. He was going to… have a whole lot to explain to Logan and Remus. And mom and Mimi. That will be… fun.

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel @demented-dukey @karmels-stuff

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank my fanyou for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

[laallomri]

paria, ruler of god tier headcanons, tell us about leandro/akira

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND

leandro:

-curly brown hair (undercut because Of Course), freckles, brown eyes, oversize hands but slender fingers, his ears stick out a little and turn red when he’s embarrassed, when he smiles genuinely his eyes crinkle at the corners, whenever akira does romantic stuff for him he giggles instead of laughs properly and it’s one of akira’s favorite things about him

-he has adhd and hyperfixates on things so he has a huuuge amount of knowledge on very specific subjects. he does the thing where you jiggle your leg and he paces a lot and he keeps a fidget spinner in his pocket

-he is self-conscious. if asked why he’ll say it’s about how much he talks but that’s the surface-version of the real issue, which is that he’s worried about his talent/self-worth. his arc is a mix of him learning to love himself even if he’s not good at something and him doing badass stuff to prove that he’s amazing at a lot of things, too. he learns how to be content with being someone’s support and how to trust himself and his abilities so that he can make decisions with confidence when it is his turn to lead

-he’s your friendly neighborhood sharpshooter and says cool but kinda cheesy lines when he makes shots. akira always falls for them

-leandro, shooting the doorbell of the villain’s home from across the yard, at night: buzz buzz motherfucker! I got a delivery for ya

-akira, muttering: he’s so cool holy shit

-leandro, shooting a villain square in the chest while under heavy fire: HOW’S THAT FOR A BOY FROM CUBA

-akira, hyperventilating: do u think it’s a bad idea to make out while people are trying to kill us or

-leandro was born and raised in cuba. spanish is his first language and he speaks english with an accent

-he is the youngest of four (2 older brothers, 1 twin sister) and has 2 nieces and 1 nephew. his best friend is his maternal grandmother. he calls her every day and she was the second person he came out to after his sister

-he started to consciously realize he wasn’t straight at 14 but he wasn’t out as bisexual until he was 18 (he tells his sister at 15 and his abuelita at 17). part of his arc is becoming less nervous with saying it to people in general because he spends time around the rest of the team, who are all lgbt and make him feel safe and normal about his sexuality

-his ears are pierced and he wears earrings that used to belong to his grandfather, who was a hero and leandro’s inspiration for wanting to help people and do things to make the world better

akira:

-long dark hair (usually ties it up), dark eyes, 1 year older but a few inches shorter than leandro, a dimple in his cheek that flashes whenever he smiles (leandro will sometimes poke the dimple when akira smiles and say “oh hello, nice to see you again” and it always makes akira smile even bigger). his neck and cheeks turn red when he blushes, he snorts when he laughs, and he always sits cross-legged in chairs, even at dining tables and desks

-born and raised in america, though his family is japanese. he understands it fluently but can speak it only conversationally

-he has a necklace that used to belong to his dad. there’s a small square pendant in the center that says ‘family’ in japanese. akira keeps it tucked under his shirt so he can wear it without worrying about losing it

-he is autistic and stims by making a fist and running his thumb over his index finger. sensory overload affects him sometimes so he keeps noise-cancelling headphones in his backpack and leandro makes sure that he scouts out a quiet place for him to take a break whenever they’re at a party or in some kind of crowded area

-sometimes his fangs will appear and his eyes will flash purple and he kinda goes into a lowkey rager mode during a fight. he always manages to calm down when the fight is over so he’s never harmed an innocent person but it bothers him that he can’t control it so leandro offers to train with him to help him learn to bring it out or suppress it at will

-akira, softly: but what if I hurt you? I’d hate if I ever harmed you when you’re just trying to help me

-leandro, also softly, smiling with crinkly eyes: you’d never hurt me. I trust you

-akira, internally: the gay you two exhibited in that moment was legendary. like, the gay jumped out

-akira always knew he liked boys but wasn’t really comfortable saying it. then when he was 13 his mentor/older brother figure talked about asking out a male friend and akira realized that it’s totally normal. he came out as gay a couple years later. he was still a bit self-conscious about it for a while but by the time he’s 17/18 he’s fully comfortable with that part of himself

-he has a motorcycle and normally he doesn’t care about looking cool on it but whenever leandro is around that goes completely out the window

-akira: revving the engine is dumb it’s just showing off

-leandro: hi

-akira: VROOM VROOM BITCHES

-he has 2 swords and often dual-wields. it’s another thing that he knows is cool but doesn’t care but then suddenly does when leandro is around

-akira, after chopping up 12 bad guys: anyway let’s go home now

-leandro: great job, man!! that was fuckin awesome!!

-akira, kneeling and crossing the swords in the air like he’s in some kinda historical epic movie: I AM A GOD

-his arc is about family, about figuring out what happened to his dad and mom and about his attachment to his older brother/mentor and about discovering a family in the team. it’s hard for him to let people in and he often gets scares when he realizes how close he is to someone. but he learns to trust them and trust himself not to ruin things

[lotusawareshare]

9 Must Haves In Your Emotional First Aid Kit

Psychologist Guy Winch’s book Emotional First Aid, discusses how we treat physical injuries and illnesses but seem to all but neglect our mental-emotional wounds. The book contains many applicable strategies to implementing this practice when we experience emotional distress.

For those or us who are unsure where to start with this, I suggest putting together an emotional first aid kit for the times when it feels as if life is beating you to a bloody pulp. You can then crack out this personalized box of comfort when you feel like you’re in the pits of hell or if you’ve simply had a bad day.

Not everyone will want the same things in their emotional first aid kit – we are have subjective interests and preferences. What a magical thing it is to be unique in all the Universe, beloved.

One thing I do strongly suggest doing in creating your kit is to incorporate things that stimulate all five senses. This will be one tool for immersing ourselves in the present moment, especially for those of us who have anxious tendencies.

1. Get Or Make A Kit Container

If you make your own kit or decorate it, bonus points! I suggest you take some time to customize your kit in whatever way is pleasing to you. This can be painting your name on the box, jazzing it up with stickers, writing a small uplifting message or quote on it, or bedazzling the crap out of it. Whatever gets that warm fuzzy feeling in you going.

Sometimes when we’re in emotionally choppy waters,  the simple act of seeing a personalized kit made by past you for future you can immensely touching. There’s a sense of overwhelming love when someone has done something so special for us, especially when that someone is us! Especially if we take into consideration that at our darkest hours, what we need most is usually self love.

2. Feel Good Playlist

Craft this playlist with songs that you know will cheer you up no matter what. Soulful, dancey, classical, upbeat, funky – add whatever music you consider to be a personal mood booster. I discuss the importance of music selection and how this can influence our mood and mindset in my post 7 Therapy Alternative For The Creative Mind.

Music has an incredible ability to bring us into present moment awareness. We tune in with our senses and often our hearts as well when we have chosen music that resonates with us.

3. Something That Smells Relaxing

Rustle up some essential oils, bubble bath, incense, lotion, candles, or a jar of your dog’s farts for your kit if that tickles your fancy. 

When I’m feeling especially emotionally charged, the smell of lavender and eucalyptus tends to alleviate some of the anxiety and stress. Slathering myself in some awesome smelling lotion also makes me feel really cared for (not to mention silky smooth). Things like bubble bath and lotion not only stimulate the sense of smell, but also touch – which can make them doubly as powerful!

Remember friends, scent is intricately tied to memory, so select your scents accordingly. A scented candle may trigger feelings of nostalgia of happier times, which can be a good reminder that better things await the other side of the darkness, or it can potentially cause you to sink deeper into the pain, especially if you’re dealing with loss.

4. Your Favorite Healthy Snack

Having something light to munch on can be comforting to many of us. In childhood, we may have had a favorite grandparent that comforted us with snacks or beverages as a way to show love and care. We can show ourselves this same care and even take it a step beyond by recognizing that Nature put medicine in the food.

Why healthy you ask? Processed foods have been shown to negatively impact mood, especially for those of us who experience ongoing mental health challenges. Not surprisingly, healthy foods help to boost mood and can help with mental clarity.

If you want to learn more about healthy eating, check out my post 7 Tips For How To Start Eating Healthy.

5. Photos That Inspire You

This can be photos of your dream travel destination, animals, clips of quotes, photos of your happiest times, family and friends, memes that hit your funny bone, or anything else you damn well please!

By incorporating images of what we love, we remind ourselves that better, brighter things await when we have gone through the darkness. We remember that these feelings will not last forever – they are only temporary even if they feel like they’re here to stay in the moment.

6. A Journal

I cannot tell you how immensely helpful it can be to word vomit all the things that are taking up space in your mind. It feels a lot like an emotional enema – you get out all the crap! It’s truly amazing how much lighter you can feel after writing about all the things that are hurting you.

But like an enema (maybe? I’ve never actually had one but I’m assuming here), journaling about the pain you’re feeling and releasing the intrusive thoughts rattling around in your mind can be unpleasant during the process.

7. A Letter Written To You By You

We all need words of gentle encouragement from time to time. And who knows better what you need to hear than you?

As you sit down to write this letter, first make sure you’re in a space of unconditional love. (For more on this, check out my post 5 Tips To Master Self Love.) Then we can start to envision our most painful times. Try to really bring yourself back into that period in your life without letting yourself get sucked into it. We want to simply observe, not become trapped in the emotions.

What does that hurting version of you need to hear? What would help soothe his or her soul? What reminders would be particularly helpful and healing for this version of yourself to read?

8. Something Cozy

This can be anything that makes you feel safe and comfortable. Think warm socks, your favorite comfy T-shirt, a light blanket, or maybe a plush toy.

The sense we are trying to stimulate here is touch, so if these options are not to your liking, feel free to substitute something else. You could try slime in a jar, a stress ball, or a fidget spinner, just to name a few options.

The point of this is to make ourselves feel nurtured and protected. Having a comfort item or piece of clothing that makes us feel cozy can help us to feel more safe and connect us to a sense of inner wellbeing.

9. A Friend Or Several You Can Reach Out To

Take your dearest and most supportive friend, shrink them down to size, and stick them in your box! I jest, I jest.

Have this discussion with your friend before you assign them to this important role in your life. Offer to do the same in return for them if they would like it. A lot of us may hesitate to ask someone this for fear of judgment or rejection. Try to remember that how they choose to respond is their decision and honesty is the best policy in these matters.

If your friend is open minded to it, ask them to write you a short note to encourage you to reach out that you can include in your kit. Then do the same for them if they would like!

For those of us who have very little support in our lives, there are support groups we can attend either in person or online. If you desperately need someone to talk to and are thinking about hurting yourself, please please please reach out to your suicide hotlines. Many options are now available like calling, texting, chatbox – and all for free.

There is no shame in recognizing when you need help. None. Zero. Zip. We ALL need help from time to time and this is okay.

Friendly Reminders

Remember, the darkness doesn’t last forever, and we often come through it to the other side stronger than before! When we are in these states, we must cut ourselves some slack and do whatever feels good to us in those moments, without judgment and resistance as much as humanly possible.

Using this emotional first aid kit may feel strange at first, and can feel foreign if we are not accustomed to caring for ourselves in this way. So many of us are used to pushing forward and kicking ourselves in the butt! But it is when we accept ourselves as we are right now, no conditions clauses or expectations, that we begin to feel better.

Give yourself the same love and care you’d give to a loved one. Knowing we are loved, especially by our own selves, can make an enormous difference. Be gentle with yourselves, beloved!

Check out the full post on my website!

https://lotusawareshare.com/2019/01/14/9-must-haves-in-your-emotional-first-aid-kit/

[jennsepticeye]

Hi, yes, let's talk about how ADHD stigmas and what they actually mean from an actual ADHD person.

Hi, I'm Jenn, I'm 18 and I was diagnosed when I was 14 and have been taking Methylphenidate to help me function like a normal human being for 4 years.

There's a whole alphabet of abbreviations in here, so have a key

ADHD Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder

ADD Attention Deficit Disorder

SPD Sensory Processing Disorder

ASD Autism Spectrum Disorder

RSD Rejection-Sensitive Dysphoria

ASMR Autonomous Sensory-Motor Response

ADHD and ADD effect everyone differently. Everyone. And it's really important to understand that because comments like "well you don't look ADHD" or "but you're so calm" can be really damaging to people struggling with it. It can be invalidating and trivializes how hard living with ADD really is.

Rejection-Sensitive Dysphoria, or RSD, is relatively common among kids and adults with Attention Deficit Disorders. This is basically when someone perceives an interaction negatively even though it might not be. If internalized, it can cause major depression and can be misdiagnosed as rapid cycling bipolar disorder. If externalities, it can appear as an anger disorder. Kids and adults with RSD are ultra sensitive to rejection, more so than non ADHD people. So if someone you know has ADHD it is important to make them feel wanted and be aware that externalized reactions are not ones they really have control over.

ADHD is not a childhood disorder. My brother is nearly 30 and still struggling with symptoms. Some children do grow out of it, and most do not.

ADHD people are not lazy. We're not. Not inherently anyway. If you're someone without ADHD I imagine it's hard to comprehend the complete lack of motivation that comes with such a disorder. I want to have good grades, and I want to get my homework done, but I am so easily distracted that tasks which take a neurotypical person 20 minutes will take me upwards of an hour. My brain is a constant cycle of "I'll do it later." I have a hard time prioritizing what needs to be done vs what I want to do. I could do my homework but I would rather read or write.

There are some overlapping symptoms between ADHD and Autism Spectrum Disorders (ASD). I struggle with one of those symptoms, sensory processing disorder. Basically what that means is sometimes I get sensory overloads due to environmental factors that can lead to anxiety like attacks. There are also some sounds, textures, sights, tastes, and smells that absolutely do not agree with me. Velvet lined clothes are an absolute no go because the feel of velvet on my skin is liable to cause a sensory attack, scrambled eggs are the same way, and those phone dog whistles. Be mindful of people with SPD around you, and what triggers them.

Typically when you think ADHD you picture a kid with no filter running around the room, a trouble maker who can't sit still. And when you think stim, you either think ASMR or the ASD kid who yells all the time. There are lots of different types of stims and it's important for these kids to stim because it helps them function. Verbal stims are called echolalia. Kids who stim this way often seem obnoxious or unintelligent. They usually repeat something often, a quote or just noises. This is generally the least socially acceptable stim. But these kids aren't dumb, or unintelligent. They repeat those phrases as a way to maintain focus. If this is a stim that distracts or disturbs you, then be kind about it. Offer the person a place to work where they won't distract others, but can stim as they please.

Another stim is oral stims. These people usually chew on things, be it fingernails, coat sleeves, pencils or gum. There are several types of stim "toys" for this purpose. Rubber necklaces that prevent tooth damage while limiting and self destructiveness, like fingernail biting. Baby teething rings are a favorite of mine because they hold up well.

Tactile stims are the ones most commonly labeled toys. I know that fidget spinners now have a bad rap, but they were originally designed for people with attention disorders to stim with. But There are also other toys such as Tangles, Fidget Cubes, Spinner Rings and maze bracelets. If these appear in say, your classroom, don't rush to confiscate them unless they are more of a distraction to the students that a beneficial tool.

Tactile stimmers may also make repetitive motions that seem abnormal for neurotypicals, almost like Tourette's in nature. For instance, I clap the sides of my feet together or rub or punch my collar bone. You should only try to stop this behavior if it's self-destructive, because this is a stim that is helping that person focus

Auditory stims. I know we've all seen that person who needs music to focus, or someone who prefers silence. It can be problematic for some ADHD kids who need music to focus because in my experience I am easily distracted into singing along with the lyrics. Video game music is often composed specifically to boost concentration and I've found that movie soundtracks are a good option as well. If you're a teacher, be mindful of these students' needs.

Now lets talk about why this works. One of the leading theories for ADHD (be mindful that I'm not a doctor) is what I call the Floating Focus theory. As humans evolved we couldn't focus 100% on just one task. If we were picking berries we had to have been mindful of our surrounding to be aware of threats. This lookout side focus is called the "floating focus." In ADHD people the floating focus is overactive, which makes us easily distractable. I once spent an entire hour playing with a sequined pillow because I got distracted from some AP reading. With these stims, our floating focus is occupied on something, so we can't get distracted be something else.

(Bonus fact about floating focus: it's part of the reason some ADHDers seem to have awesome hearing because their floating picks up on conversations in quiet environments. For instance, I could be reading with my door closed and hear one parent say to another "should I call Jenn down to take care of the chickens?" And then I'll get up and head down before they've caked me)

I wanted to put this after the stims because it's not quite the same. Deep Pressure stim is another type. Kids who stim like this may wear compression shirts or weighted clothes, or use a weighted lap pad. I sleep with a 15lb blanket. This is a sub category for tactile stimming, but sometimes a useful tool in bringing someone down from a sensory episode. For instance I sometimes have my sister lay down on top of me and wearing a chest binder is a happy coincidence. They also train service dogs to do the same thing.

ADHD peeps are not always tired. The disorder really fucks with a person's sleeping rhythm, so an ADHD person might have a really hard time sleeping at night because their thoughts are really loud, or because boredom has a wild effect on us. A person with ADHD may have no problem staying up all night but they will be paying for it the next day, which is why they seem lethargic and tired. My sleep schedule is something I'm still working on, but a weighted blanket is often a great tool. (Currently premade ones are super pricey but there are a lot of resources for making your own).

ADHD people aren't slobs. Messy behavior can often be attributed to what's called "visual background-noise." Some ADHD people are messy because they've stopped recognizing the mess, it's just background noise in their visual field. Related to this, ADHD people may seem to know where everything is in their mess, which is often the cause of a reluctance to clean. If they clean then everything will be moved from where it was and they won't know anymore. There is also the reluctance due to lack of motivation.

There seems to be an ongoing commentary that ADHD people can pay attention if they choose to, and this is often said right after someone has done something efficiently. ADHD people can't choose really what they pay attention to. If something is done super efficiently is is often caused by what's called "hyperfixation" or what has previously been called "special interests." These are areas where an ADHD person can focus on a task often better than a neurotypical person. This isn't always good, especially in a case where the itself hyperfixation is bad, is not the assigned task, or if the focus is so strong that a person like me forgets to eat or sleep. You read that right. I honest to god forget to eat. I'll lose track of time and when I check, I'll have been working from 700 to 1500 without stopping.

Meds aren't inherently bad. Like I said I've been taking the off brand equivalent of Ritalin. Methylphenidate. Side effects if ADHD meds include disrupted sleeping pattern, decreased appetite and I sometimes get headaches when they wear off. Last year I lost 10 lbs because of my meds. Meds like Ritalin or Adrerall can also be semi addictive as an ADHD person becomes dependent on their effects. However, if in the right dosage and paired with other non chemical methods, meds can do a lot of good. I am completely nonfunctional in a classroom environment without my meds. This is the case for a lot of people. If you demonize treatments like Aderall then people who need them are less likely to get the help they need. I said at the beginning that everyone is different, this means that the treatments are different for everyone. Do your research and listen to your physician. Don't rush do slander a med because it didn't work for you.

[gaylortruther]

6, 15, 24

thanks for sending this WHERE THE CELLAR MEETS THE SKY, again

are there any former titles you’ve considered but discarded?

well, my co-author and i called it simply Collin and Rowan until like 3 months ago when charlie @tchaikqvsky helped me come up with the lovely title we have now :) i also had considered FROM THE ATTIC TO THE OCEAN and ABOVE GROUND, UNDER COVER which, while also lovely, did not fit for the overall vibe, so they might be better suited to be titles for the sequels 

describe each character’s daily outfit.

OOF LMAO this is gonna be long also TAG URSELF IN THE REPLIES WHICH CH UR MOST LIKE 

COLLIN: black mom jeans with rips, possibly fishnets underneath, dirty converse, long sleeve band tshirt or short sleeve band tshirt with a distressed flannel or leather jacket, smudgy eyeliner and clumpy mascara, chipped black nail polish, septum and lip ring, blue choppy hair, what im getting at is shes an angstlord

ROWAN: baggy light-wash blue jeans with a graphic tshirt, high top sneakers, patterned socks, color-blocked windbreakers or jean jackets, so many patches and pins, their signature silver dragon earcuff and spinner fidget ring, no makeup

AVERY: black motorcycle skinny jeans are a staple. plain single color shirts, cargo jackets, he dresses for functionality (and that Rebel aesthetic). combat boots. so many combat boots. (he had a phase where he did his makeup EXACTLY like collin does now. if you tell anyone he will find you and you will not make it out alive)

ISAAC: black suits (like legit every part of the suit is a shade of black), black oxfords, every piece of clothing is black. EXCEPT. his lab coat. that’s white. obviously. ANFKJHAFKJHBKJA

NOAH: laments every day that they can’t practically partake in an underground revolution while wearing heels. misses their makeup routine terribly. does what they can to make the rebel-issued clothes as fashion-forward as possible. 

REESE: literally dresses like she’s in the zombie apocalypse, complete with hidden knife sheaths and fire starting kits. everything she wears has secret pockets and compartments. if she CAN dress like a disheveled, unstable swamp witch, WHY SHOULDNT SHE?

SAGE: half the time she wears rebel issued clothes and half the time she wears authority issued clothes. i’ll let u figure out why ;)

which character is most like you? least like you?

answered here :)

THANKS AGAIN FOR SENDING THIS