#do these kids even know what an mp3 is???

[celiaelise]

bro there's this group I only know a couple songs from, and really enjoy those songs, but they almost never come up on my Spotify shuffle/radio/whatever, so I was like, "oh I'll go to their artist page and seek out their stuff specifically." And I clicked on "artist radio", which I feel like will usually play the selected artist half to a third of the time? Like, a pretty big percentage, right?

Two songs. And the rest is mostly stuff Spotify already feeds me. Like, for whatever reason, they REALLY don't want me listening to the band Minimall...

#obviously i can just go directly to their discography which is what I've done #i was just hoping for a more organic experience #i know all the cool kids are switching away from Spotify and back to mp3s or even physical media #but i have to purchase physical data storage before i can do that! #all i have is my phone and a ms surface #Spotify #by elise #okay granted they only have like 7 songs out but still. make an effort

[teaboot]

It just now occurred to me that some of yall don't remember a time before touch screens

Like. The first popular touch screens I knew of were high end new-edition ipods and that was their defining trait. No buttons.

"But how do we use it without buttons?" Well. It has three buttons. Power and volume.

My whole class full of middle class kids had ipod nanos, ipod shuffles they got for Christmas. I had an MP3 player, and before that, a cassette player and a portable CD player.

The 'ipod touch' was goddamn crazy. Like, space-age shit.

I swear to god when I got one as a gift from a well-off relative it had no music, no games, I didn't know how to connect it to the internet, nothing, but the reality of a smooth screen that responded when you touched it like some kind of goddamn hologram, like a pocket mirror with color-changing cuttlefish skin that knew I was touching it, that I just spent a solid hour and a half in my room just swiping the screen back and forth.

And the idea that you could connect to the INTERNET on it?? And not the expensive shitty pixelated crap you paid $50 a minute for on your flip phone, but WHOLE WEBSITES? JUST LIKE ON A LAPTOP? Ooooooooooohmygod.

And it was small enough to hide under the covers with!! I could read after bedtime!!! Before that, I had a second-hand digital camera, and I'd take photos of my comic books during the day so I could read through them later on the tiny ass 2"x2" view screen. And before THAT, it was a bedside lamp I'd scramble to turn off if it sounded like someone was getting close to the stairs.

And after the ipod touch, card readers started getting touch screens. I didn't think I'd ever get used to being encouraged to smear my fingerprints on the glass.

And SMARTBOARDS? Hoooooooooooooooly shit.

Like. I'm not even old yet, and every so often I just suddenly remember that the world I knew at that age doesn't exist anymore.

And what's all this going to become?

Who knows

[rafesslxt]

Hi! Would you write a smut fic about getting high with Mattheo?

R U High Mine⎥Mattheo Riddle

summary: you come back from the holiday's with some weed for you and the boys. When you and Mattheo smoke while showing him some songs, it get's a little heated between the two of you.

warnings: Filthy smut yasss, getting high, so drugs/weed, smoking, best friends to lovers, making out, vocal mattheo (ugh), dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v, aftercare, mattheo calling reader slut and whore

note: I saw this in the car and had an immediate idea how to write this, had much fun. Thank you for the request I hope you like it. 💚

song: I recommend listening to the song "R U Mine" or "Why'd you only call me when you're high" by Arctic Monkeys, trust me babes. Or hear the playlist "Are you high mine" from my Spotify.

The boys and Pansy already waited for me in the common room as I arrived at Hogwarts again. It was like Christmas for them, knowing I would always bring them their favorite treat after the holiday's.

I smiled at them, knowing they were thinking the same as me as they smiled back at me. "Y/n!" Pansy was the first to stand up and hug me. From all the people I called my friends, I was closest to her. " Hey Pansy, how are you?" I asked, letting my bags fall to hug her back.

"I'm great! We're waiting for you girl. Everyone's here already." she giggled as she let go of me so I could great the rest.

I gave everyone a hug, at last Mattheo, who kissed my cheek. " How are you princess?" he asked, scanning my face. " I'm good Matt, thanks." I smile at him and sit beside him on the armrest. " What about you?" " Fine now that you're here." I rolled my eyes playfully at his answer.

"You know we're all happy to see you y/n, but do you have it?" Draco asked, shifting impatient in his seat. I think from all of us, he was the one with the most need for it. He was constantly on the edge, maybe even worse If it wasn't for Pansy who comforted him the best she could. He had all the pressure of his father on his shoulders and It was clear to see what it did to him. So a little smoke from now and then did good for him.

"Of course I have it, how could I forget when all of you reminded me the whole 2 weeks of it in each letter you wrote?" I say sarcastic, with a little smirk on the edge of my lips.

I grabbed my purse and pulled out a big black bag with already little packed baggy's, also black so you couldn't see what's in it, for each of them.

"Oh my god it's more than usually, right?" Enzo said, gawking at the little bags in my hand. I chuckled as I gave each one of them their own little bag so they could divide it up for the next few weeks.

"Yeah it is indeed more than usual. Got a good prize for it." " Wait let me pay what we didn't give you." Draco said, grabbing into his pockets but I shook my head. " No it's good. I'm friends with him since we were kids." He nodded and opened his bag to smell it, saying "You know I never thought I would say that but I wouldn‘t have thought I would ever be this happy to have a friend who is part of the muggle world."

I laughed at his comment, before giving the last bag to Mattheo. "I've got something else for you." I grinned at him, knowing he'll love it.

Obviously things like wifi don't exist here so I buyed him an MP3 player with lots and lots of battery's so he could listen to music. This time I brought an CD player and made a few Playlists for him.

His smile got bigger as he saw me pulling it out of my bag. "What's that?" Blaise asked, watching us. " It's an CD Player so you can hear Music a little louder than with headset."

"You wanna hear it?" I ask, Mattheo nodding. " Yeah princess, let's go." He grabbed my bags and gave me my purse. "See you later guy's." I waved at the rest of them.

It became a ritual for us to listen to music every time I came back from holiday's, so the group already knew what's going on.

We walked towards mine and Pansy's dorm we shared which was no issue to her as Mattheo and Draco shared a dorm so she would always go over to Draco's.

"You roll the weed and I'm gonna put on the music mkay? Grinder is in the top drawer." I say while walking towards my desk and putting the CD player on it, putting the battery in it and the first CD I wanted to show him. In the meantime he sat down on my bed and grinned the weed smaller before rolling it into a J.

"Ready." He smiled at me and tapped the place beside him on the bed. "Okay, so this is a band I want to show you, they're called "Arctic Monkeys" and I think you'll love them." Confident I sat down next to him after starting the Music. He lit the J and handed it over to me. "Here, you go first." "Thanks." I took the first drag and inhaled it deeply into my lungs before grinning and exhaling the smoke. " Oh it's good. Marc didn't disappoint." "Marc huh?" he asked as he took his first drag. " So you two are close or anything?"

I shrugged with my shoulders before laying down on my back. " Kind of, but not as close as I'm with you guys. I know him since I'm a kid, he's also the only one who knows about Hogwarts beside my parents."

He scanned my face as I was talking, slowly dragging his gaze from my eyes to my lips. I saw it but didn't think about it as I slowly but surely felt the weed have an effect.

"Damn, you were right. The music is great. It's a bit..edgy." " Yeah I know but it's great for smoking." I giggle and turn my head back towards the ceiling as the song "Why'd you only call me when you're high" started to play. " That's my second favorite." I tell him, feeling the weed calming me down but also making my senses and nerves more sensitive and reactive.

"What's your favorite?" "It comes after a few songs, just wait, I will tell you."

We layed down a little longer, smoking the J until it was ready and we were high as fuck. "Shit, it feels so good to be like this again." he groans, sending shivers down my spine. I turned my head towards him, seeing him looking at the ceiling.

I always had a crush on Mattheo. I loved when he was all flirty with me, while with nobody other. We both had partners before but I always felt some kind of pull towards him. My eyes scanned him, looking at his sharp jawline at first. I also loved looking at it, made me feel some type of way. Especially when it moved while he smoked.

Suddenly his eyes hit mine and maybe it's the weed but I had a feeling as If there was more in his gaze. Again, he looks at my eyes and then at my lips, licking his own.

Then my favorite song started playing. " That's my favorite." I said, watching him looking to the CD player. I wait a litte before he reacts to it. He breathed out heavily before looking at me. "You know where I would love to hear it?" "No tell me." "When we fuck." he says bluntly.

My eyes widened in shock, not knowing If I imagined things now. Before I could say anything he rolled over on top of me, grabbed my neck and kissed me with passion I've never felt before in my life. I opened my mouth as his tongue licked over my bottom lip. He groaned against my lips and pressed his body even more against mine, letting one hand beside my head to support himself and the other which was at my neck, now wandering over my stomach.

My breathing got faster and heavier due the haze and the arousal I suddenly felt. "Fuck, you don't even know how long I've been wanting to do this." He lowers his head down to my throat in a rush, leaving my lips trembling.

Goosebumps erupted over my skin as I felt his tongue licking my skin and his teeth carefully biting it. " Mattheo.." I moaned and let my hands go trough his hair, pulling on some strands. "What princess? What do you need hm?" he mumbles against my neck.

I arched my back and pressed my hips against his, feeling he's already hard. I gasped at the friction and bit my lip right after. " Need to feel you." "Where, tell me where. I wanna hear you say it." he groans, pressing against my hips.

"Everywhere. Fuck me." I would have never said that so bluntly without the weed, but I'm so grateful that we did smoke.

He growled against my skin, leaving wet kisses all over it before sitting up between my legs and letting both his hands roam over my skin under the hoodie I wore. It didn't take him long before pulling it over my head together with my shirt under it, seeing I was wearing no bra.

His lips parted and a smile formed on them. " You're so beautiful y/n, shit why didn't we do this sooner." His hand wandered up to my chest, massaging them and playing with my nipples teasing them. I mewled at the feeling and arched my back again. " Mattheo please. I need more."

"Don't have to ask me twice, princess." He opened the button of my jeans and pulled them down. He got rid of his clothes too until we were both only in our underwear.

I looked down and saw how big he was, just trough his boxershorts, making me gulp a little. "Don't worry, I'll go slow. Or do you want it rough?" I nodded quickly. " Rough. Fuck me like - " " Like what?" I gulped again before answering in a whisper. " Like a slut." " Oh you mean like my slut? Because after this you'll go nowhere but to me If you need to be fucked. Understood?" Ahh imagine him saying this ugh

I nodded. "Good girl." he said smiling, his voice and words making me even wetter. His fingers slowly stroked over my slip, making him biting his lip and almost moan. "Feel how wet you are you fucking slut? Wet for your best friend?"

I moaned and closed my eyes as he slipped a finger under the fabric and right inside of me. "Fuck, you're so tight. Nobody fucked you good the last few months huh?" I shook my head as I couldn't form any words. " Yeah that's gonna change from now on." He pumped his fingers a few more times inside of me, putting pressure to my clit with his thumb before pulling down his boxer shorts and my slip.

He pressed his tip against my entrance, looking at me. " Ready?" "Yeah.." I breathed out. He slowly pushed inside me, scanning my face, his eyes a little hooded.

My hands grabbed his hair again as he completely bottomed me out. "Oh yes.." I moaned, closing my eyes and parting my lips.

"You feel so good princess." he groaned and started to thrust inside me fast and rough, not thinking twice If someone outside in the common room could hear the bed hitting the wall. I wanted to say something but every word got stuck in my throat at his merciless fucking.

"What huh? Am I fucking you stupid you little whore? Fuck I love this, how fucked out you already look, not even able to speak." he growls into the air.

The only thing I felt was him inside me, thrusting faster and faster every minute that passed. I couldn't concentrate on anything else beside him. "M-mattheo I'm close.." " You wanna cum baby? Beg me like the little slut you wanted to be."

His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I heard his breathing getting harder. "Fuck, please let me cum Mattheo. Please, I'm begging you." I moan loudly as my walls clench around his cock.

"Fuck fuck fuck.." he groaned, thrusting hard one last time before spilling inside me and circling his fingers on my sensitive clit. "Come around my cock baby." And I did. I did so hard that my vision went black for a moment and his name left my lips over and over again.

"Yeah, love how you almost look possessed. Possessed by my cock." he grins down at me, slowly pulling out of me.

I swallowed and looked at him, mind dizzy." "That was so good Mattheo." I said, trying to catch my breath.

"Oh believe me princess, that won't be the last time. You're mine now."

I hope you had fun reading, I had so much fun writing this. 😍

Let me know what ya'll think about this hehe. 👀

My Masterlist

xoxo Sarah <3

#mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin imagine #slytherin smut #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #harry potter masterlist #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x y/n #mattheo riddle masterlist #sub mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle blurb #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

[wilwheaton]

I have a small part in the 1987 television movie (failed pilot) version of The Man Who Fell To Earth. Lewis Smith played the titular character. Beverly D'Angelo played my mom, his love interest. (Fun Star Trek connection: Bob Picardo is also in it).

My character was a Troubled Youth, which I gotta tell you was not a stretch for me at all. I was deeply, deeply hurting at the time we made it. I was struggling not to suffocate on all the emotional and financial burdens my mom put on my shoulders, and fully aware of just how much my dad hated and resented me. You need a kid who doesn't want to be an actor, whose eyes can't hide the pain? I'm your guy.

Anyway, one of the scenes I was in took place in a record store, where Troubled Youth steals some albums, before he is chased by the cops and saved by the Man Who Fell To Earth, who uses a glowing crystal to save his life from ... some scratches on his face.

We filmed the interior of the record store at Sunset and La Brea, in what I think was a Warehouse, and at the end of the day, I was allowed to buy some records at a modest discount.

I was deep into my metal years, on my way from my punk years to my New Wave years, so I only bought metal albums. I know I bought more than I needed or could carry (I was making a point that I was allowed to spend my own money, mom), but the only ones I can clearly remember are:

Iron Maiden - Piece of Mind

Judas Priest - Turbo and Defenders of the Faith

W.A.S.P - The Last Command

(I know this was in March of 1987, because Turbo had just come out.)

Of those, Piece of Mind is the only one I never really stopped listening to, even through all the different it's-not-a-phase phases. I still listen to it, today.

Ever since I became an Adult with a Fancy Adult Record Player And All That Bullshit, I have kept my records in two places: stuff I want right now, and stuff I keep in the library because of Reasons.

Generally, records move in one direction toward the library, even if it takes years to happen. I just don't accumulate albums like I once did, because I'm Old and set in my ways.

Earlier today, I decided that I wanted to listen to an album while I cleaned up the kitchen, and because I wanted to make my life more interesting, I opened the library cabinet for the first time in at least five years.

There was the very same W.A.S.P album from that day in March, 1987. I don't have any of the others -- I looked -- but The Last Command was right there.

Before I really knew what I was doing, I put it on the Fancy Adult Record Player and dropped the needle.

I watched four decades of dust build up with a satisfying crackle, and there was something magical and beautiful about hearing all the skips and the scratches, realizing I remembered them from before.

The title track was just as great as I remembered it. It struck all the same chords in me that it did in the late nineteen hundreds. The rest of the first side was ... um. It just didn't connect with me, and for the few moments I spent trying to find a connection, I don't think it ever really did. I would remember.

But I did remember how much I loved making those mix tapes, and what a big part of them that song was. I did remember how empowering it felt to not just spend my own money that I earned doing work I didn't want to do, but to spend it on music my parents hated, right under their noses. I did remember how impressed Robby Lee was, when I showed him my extensive heavy metal album collection.

Remembering all of that, in one of those cinematic flashes of rapid cut visuals and sped up sounds, told me why I kept this record, while I gradually sold or replaced the other records I bought that day with CDs, then mp3s, then lossless digital files, before finally coming all the way back to records, where I started.

I didn't listen to the second side. I didn't need to. I took it off the Fancy Adult Record Player, and put it back into the library, next to the George Carlin records.

#music #memories #records #Youtube

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Heavenly Kind of State of Mind - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley takes you out to thank you for taking care of him when he broke his nose. He didn't expect dinner to turn into something else.

pairing: baseball!Bradley x reader (Angel)

warnings/content: depictions of broken nose, Bradley being a manwh*re, sexual references, fluff, awkward first date.

word count: 2.3k

taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted @sorchathered, @sarahsmi13s, @hangmansgbaby, @djs8891 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue @seitmai @unhinged-bitch @mattyskies

Bradley wasn’t the dating type.

At least, that’s what he told himself on the drive over to the San Diego pier. 

As Bradley crossed the bridge from quiet, serene Coronado into the bustling downtown core, he tapped his hand against the steering wheel, nervously drumming the beat to a classic rock song. He pulled up into a parking space, looking around the parking lot for your obnoxious little car with its pink interior that he’d been thinking about since you took him to get his nose checked out. The break had healed nicely, unable to tell that two weeks prior, his nose had met with the fist of a grown man. Bradley sighed as he realized you weren’t here yet, adjusting his sunglasses in his rearview mirror. 

He didn’t date. 

It wasn’t his thing. 

The awkward small talk. The painful silences. The uncomfortable stage where you waited to see how the other person wanted to proceed, all for it to fall apart in the end anyway. He knew dates were just a stop gap to heartbreak. He was the expert, in fact. In the years since his marriage fell apart, he’d skipped dating all-together, resolving himself to one night stands and quick hookups as a means of bypassing the inevitable heartache he’d be faced with if he’d gone the dating route. 

After his marriage, he didn’t know what he wanted. He’d wanted kids, he thought, but then again, kids meant his career got less focus. Kids meant he’d have one of two choices — retire and become a picture-perfect dad, working a normal career and being the doting husband and father he knew he’d want to be, or, stay playing baseball, continue his dedication to his career, and always feel guilty for not being home, fielding the upset accusations of his wife, telling him he was doing it as an escape, running from his responsibilities. 

Being alone gave him freedom. It gave him the ability to further his career and focus his attention on whatever the fuck he wanted. And he liked it that way. 

However, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop you from occupy every thought that he had over the past two weeks. Being unable to play didn’t help — doctor’s orders had him benched for two weeks until his nose had healed. 

He’d attended practices, worked out at the gym a few extra times for good measure, and even took a guest spot in the commentator booth for a game over the past fourteen days to keep himself busy, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about you. 

Every time he thought he was comfortably distracted, focused on something else, his brain would circle back around, coming back to you each and every time.

It was exhausting.

He tried so hard to push it off. Too hard, in fact. As he sat in his Bronco, hands still drumming on the steering wheel as he listened to the radio, now blaring The Beach Boys through his car, he hummed along to the familiar tune, hoping that it would provide him a little reprieve from the all-encompassing thoughts of you. 

Just as he closed his eyes, letting his imagination take him to the beach, walking across the warm sand, cool waves lapping at his feet as he stepped towards the ocean, he heard a gentle tapping on his window. Snapping back to reality, his eyelids fluttered, eyes opening wide as he spotted you gently tapping your knuckles against the window. 

He turned the car off, pulling the keys out of the ignition and stuffing them into his pocket as he hopped out of the driver’s seat. Your warm, friendly smile was enough to make him weak in the knees and he could barely keep himself together when he saw you standing there in that sweet, pretty little sundress you were wearing. He just hoped that his light-washed denim jeans didn’t betray him and give away how tight they were getting.

“Thanks for inviting me out,” you smiled as you looked at Bradley, hand raised to gesture at his healing nose, “Looks like you healed up nicely, Bradshaw.” 

“Not having baseballs flying at my face for the last two weeks might have helped. Stayed out of bars too, wasn’t about to risk having another drunken baseball fan taking swings at me.”

“You just didn’t want to lose another bar fight, did you?” you teased, pursing your lips as you looked around at the pier. 

“There’s like four different restaurants here, I figured I’d let you take your pick. Reservations aren’t an issue,” Bradley explained calmly, giving his head a gentle nod as he surveyed the parking lot. 

“Wow, you have that much influence here? Aren’t they used to pro-athletes?”

“That’s not what I meant. I made reservations at all four. Just in case.”

“Wow, never had you pegged as a people pleaser, Bradley. I’m impressed.”

“I’m not,” he replied stubbornly, shaking his head. “I just didn’t want to pick something and find out you were deathly allergic to seafood or something. Killing you with a food allergy didn’t seem like an appropriate way to thank you for helping me the other night.”

“You’re right, unexpectedly poisoning me doesn’t sound like a good thank you. You’re in luck though, no food allergies.”

Bradley let out a sigh and looked around again, looking more vulnerable than ever. He looked uncomfortable, nervous even, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Steak?” You hummed, raising an eyebrow as you tried to break any tension between you. “I could go for steak.”

“Steak works,” he grumbled, nodding his head. He leaned in towards you, his lips just milimeters from your ear as he whispered softly, trying to be as quiet as possible before being spotted. 

“Photographers are over there, they’re gonna want to snap a few photos of us. Are you ok with that? We can either play it up or downplay it. Up to you. I can always walk in ahead of you if you don’t want the attention.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he whispered into your ear, the hairs on the back of your neck standing at full attention. Craning your neck to look above his shoulder, you spotted a white Escalade with a short, weasel of a man sitting in the front seat, camera poised and ready to capture a shot. Your eyes flitted back to Bradley as you nodded your head. 

“Give them a show,” you nodded, granting him permission to play up the dinner, “Maybe it’ll help stop people from watching you for a reaction now that your ex’s upcoming nuptials are plastered over every glossy magazine there is. I can’t even read Cosmo without seeing her—” 

Bradley grumbled something at you, interrupting your ramble. He took you by the hand and nodded his head, looking back over his shoulder towards the camera before his gaze landed on you once again. Before a word was spoken between the two of you, Bradley’s large hand was on the small of your back, pulling your body in against his. Lips pressed together, you felt your body melt back into his hand. 

Although you’d never admit it to his face, you’d thought about kissing Bradley Bradshaw’s lips over and over and over again since you met him two weeks ago. You’d thought a lot about Bradley, more than you’d care to admit. You thought about those large hands of his, picturing his rough, calloused palms cupping at your tits, feeling their weight as he gently squeezed at them. You’d pictured his lips on your skin, soft and slow, pressing hot kisses over every inch of exposed flesh, unable to keep his hands and mouth off of your body. 

Bradley Bradshaw had you tangled up in a crush that rivalled the ones you’d held in high school. And weirdly — you found yourself refusing to give it up. Since that night you dropped him off to get his nose examined, bloodied and battered and vulnerable in the passenger seat of your car - you’d been completely head over heels for him, whether you liked it or not. 

As Bradley’s calloused hand held yours, enveloping it in his large fingers, his expression softened, lips forming into a gentle smile. The two of you walked hand in hand towards the restaurant, with Bradley giving his name to the hostess as he approached. He gave another glance towards the photographer behind him, furiously snapping photographs from the seat of his car, headlines practically writing themselves in his eyes as he watched Bradley closely.

Bradley didn’t want to admit it, but you agreeing to give the press a little show was helping his career more than anything - appearing to be on a genuine date would help quell the rumours about his long-storied sexual escapades since his highly publicized divorce. 

When his marriage crumbled, he went through a series of bad decisions. His temper was already the stuff of legends in the game, with stories about locker room fights and fines for unsportsmanlike conduct, but those rumours proved true when his life began to fall apart around him. He’d been caught, on more than one occasion, with a pretty blonde in a compromising position with him. Dancing in bars, drunken stumbles in hotel lobbies, walks of shame the following morning. He’d earned the nickname Bradley “Hit-It-And-Quit-It” Bradshaw for crying out loud, and while it wasn’t something he was proud of, it sure wasn’t something he chose to dispute either. 

As Bradley tucked your chair in, he leaned down to whisper in your ear once again, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as he spoke. 

“Let me know if this gets uncomfortable for you,” he nodded slowly.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, shivers running up and down your spine. 

Bradley took the seat across from you, smiling politely at the waitress as she took your drink orders. Moments later, his hand wrapped around his beer glass, raising it to his lips as he took a long sip, the frothy head brushing against his mustache as the liquid passed his lips. He watched as you looked out at the pier, eyes gazing at the sunset over the horizon, the sky painted shades of pink and orange. 

“It’s nice view sitting here, isn’t it?” Bradley nodded in agreement as he spoke. “It’s my favourite. I haven’t come in a while though.”

An awkward silence washed over you both. 

The kind of silence that reminded Bradley why he hated dating.

An uncomfortable pause later, Bradley cleared his throat, nodding his head towards you as he forced an uneasy smile. You looked back at him, sensing his discomfort and wanting to smooth the tension as best as you could, you said the only thing that came to mind as a safe topic of discussion.

“Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” 

“Hmm? Yeah, yeah,” he nodded casually, sipping his drink. “I’m excited to be back on the roster. Did you hear the excuse they came up with for how I broke my nose? PR said a bar brawl wasn’t a good look, so they said I did it during practice.” He scoffed, laughing softly. 

“Practice? What’s the story they came up with?”

“Mhmm, said I missed a rogue line drive, caught it with my nose instead of my glove.”

You shook your head and laughed, cocking a manicured eyebrow up at Bradley as he spoke. Another awkward pause hung in the air as you took a sip from your wine glass. Your eyes drifted back to Bradley, sensing his nerves.

“Alright, enough of this,” you laughed, shaking your head, “Why do they call you Rooster?”

Bradley’s eyes went wide as he set his drink glass down on the table. His dark brown eyebrows raised in surprise as he looked at you. A strained laugh escaped his parted lips, his dark brown curls moving as he shook his head. 

“It’s not exactly dinner conversation,” he said simply.

“What—you’re joking,” you retorted with an incredulous laugh. “There’s no way.”

“‘Fraid so. Rooster Bradshaw. It’s not because I’m up early for practice every day.”

“It’s because you’ve got a big—”

“Not at dinner,” Bradley warned, shaking his head.

“So, the whole, you know,” you frowned slightly as you thought over how to word your inquiry, your voice dropping down to a whisper, “Bradley-hit-it-and-quit-it-Bradshaw thing, that’s connected to it?”

“Unfortunately,” Bradley grumbled, shaking his head, “It’s not something I’m proud of.”

Another awkward moment passed, the clinging of silverware against a dish was the only sound emitted from the two of you as you sat there. Between bites of steak and sips of wine, the odd question would slip out, basic small talk that no one enjoyed on dates, facts about the two of you that weren’t important to anyone. You had to remind yourself at several points that this was never a date - it was never intended to be. It was a thank-you. A half-hearted gesture of kindness from Bradley in exchange for you not running to the papers about his bar-room brawl and his broken nose. A gesture of thanks for not fuelling the already tainted reputation he had for himself. 

Between the breakdown of Bradley’s marriage, his subesquent outbursts that he was prone to devolve into at any time on and off the field, the heated locker room exchanges that got him traded between teams, and the now infamous, and probably over-dramatized accounts of his sexual conquests, his life was falling apart around him. You keeping his broken nose a secret was the first kind-hearted gesture anyone had made towards him in he didn’t know how long. 

All Bradley knew was, despite the clumsy awkwardness, the silences and pauses, the uncomfortable pressure he was putting on himself despite reminding himself it wasn’t a date. Bradley was left wondering. 

Maybe he wished it was. 

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw au #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw au #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw au #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x y/n #top gun maverick au fic #baseball au

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: none

Writing in between messages!!

🪡Chapter Thirteen: Iron

“I hope this one lasts us longer than the last one,” Maki spoke as she untangled the cord of the new clothing iron you guys had bought. “Well, to be fair the last one cost us 15 dollars with tax.” Maki plugged it into the outlet, clicking a button at the top of the handle to set it on the right type of fabric she needed. “Yeah, well this one doubled in price, so it better work.”

Maki was currently in a desperate situation of trying to get Kirara’s outfit done. Her model had informed her that they were taking a two week trip for one of their programs. This wasn’t a problem as it didn’t conflict with the date of the show, but it did mean that Maki needed to hurry to try and get the outfit done. In the case that if anything wasn’t working she would still have time to make adjustments to it while her model was gone, and it would be ready by the time they came back. Maki was close to finishing up, the last thing left to do was to iron on patches she had designed on to the pants. The only problem was that today was Sunday, and the studio room was not open. There was a solution though, and that was doing the ironing on her own.

“It’s not turning on, pass me the instructions I might be doing this wrong.”

“The instructions came on the box, here let me see it.”

Maki held her hand a distance from the surface of the iron, “It’s lighting up but its not heating up, look.”

“That’s weird,” You took a hold of the machine, copying Maki’s movements. You moved a finger to place on the heating part, “Yeah, its not I wonder- ow!” It wasn’t the smartest move, but just your luck that the moment you decided to touch the surface, it had decided to finally start heating up. Your reflex was to hold your injured hand with the other, but that also meant letting go of the iron, and watching if fall on the ground, breaking.

“Shit.”

“Are you kidding me Y/n?”

“You broke the last one! This just makes us even.”

“What else did Yuji say was on the list?”

“Uh, yeah that.”

“Pay attention! Are we missing anything else?”

You looked up from your phone, seeing Maki leaning towards you at the end of the shopping cart. The cart itself was barely full, considering there was a max of 8 things on the ‘grocery list’ Yuji had sent you guys. He had already let you guys know he’d pay you back once you’d get there, but you were surprised by a reassurance text you got from Megumi saying that he would make Yuji give you and Maki any money you guys had spent at the store.

The conversation had gradually changed course from that and now he was just sending you pictures of his dogs saying that he’d introduce you to them once you guys arrived.

Your elbows leaning on the handle of the cart, you switched over to the list saved in your camera roll, and took a look at everything inside the cart.

“Yeah that looks good, I think we got everything.”

The cart began to move forward. Maki dragging it as you (barely) pushed it forward. “Who were you texting anyway?”

“I think you can guess.”

“Forget I asked.”

Author’s Note: iron incident based on a true story (i exaggerated it for story purposes mine didn’t actually break)

i’ve never typed the word iron sm before it doesn’t look real atp

anyways Megumi’s dogs mentioned again 🤗

hope you guys enjoyed!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @reneny @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee

#jjk #jjk college au #jjk megumi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi x reader #nobara kugisaki #yuji itadori #maki zenin #megumi fushiguro #inumaki toge #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #jjk smau #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu megumi #fushiguro #itadori #jjk no curse au #smau #jjk au #jjk x y/n

[whetstonefires]

hey, random question! what platform/method do you use to keep your robust digital media when ripping CDs? i havent done it since i was a kid with itunes (when itunes let you upload your own stuff....) and wanted to start again

Platform...they are files?

Like, mp3s; I keep them in my hard drive and thumb drives and so forth. My 'music' folder has subfolders, mostly by artist, which have subfolders per album. I just. Have the files. In my computer. Very basic method.

I organize and play them through VLC mostly. Or, on devices that still have it, I have kept using Windows Media Player, because I'm comfortable with the UI and why not, but they're actively phasing it out so I can't recommend adopting it lmao. And ofc if you're in the apple ecosystem it's not remotely an option.

I don't know that much about macintosh tbh but afaik they do let you have a file directory where you put your files that you own, which is definitely what I consider to be the most sensible baseline, if you have a device with enough memory. And memory has gotten pretty cheap.

I don't know of any cloud client service that's actively catered to letting you upload stuff you own and then stream those files on any device you please without having to jump through extra hoops, and suspect it might not be a thing at this point because there is no profit in that and it's not free to provide. They really want you to have to pay money to access content that you don't own. Sorry.

I bet you could figure out a way to keep a reasonably large music library in the amount of free storage google gives you with an account, and then play from there, but I don't think it would be very seamless. Maybe even less so on iphone.

But if your phone of whatever type has or can be modified to have sufficient storage space, you really can just. Keep your music in it. And then play it. VLC is open source and very good, and they have it for apple; I definitely recommend it.

But you don't like, keep files in it, it's just a player and sorter. So it doesn't feel like it answers the question you asked exactly, sorry.

#ask #hoc est meum #axiolotl #music #tech #i still have an mp3 player #that i hook up by aux cable to a speaker #when i want to play music out loud #had very smug this holiday season when two people on two occasions spent an hour each trying to get their paid Spotify accounts #to work with the right combination of devices #to actually provide ambient music #while i could do so in thirty seconds flat after the second guy gave up #the first 'guy' was my sister at christmas who borrowed my laptop because she couldn't get her bluetooth speaker working #so she wanted to aux without tying her phone to the speakers #accidentally hard-booted it #and got hella DARVO and made christmas very bad for me #i'm still sore about this and this made me extra smug about 'winning' against spotify at new years lol #but also spotify demonetized most of their tracks so i get to make my penury and inflexibility into a moral stance now lmaooooo

[rosewaterandivy]

teaser - loose lips sink ships

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: depictions of high school, mild cursing, allusions to vaping & mike wheeler dumbassery

A/N: Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated; enjoy!

series masterlist

next

Now - Spring term, March

“Look kid,” Hopper sighs, drumming his hands along the desk. “Far be it from me to pry into your personal life…”

Pulse quickening, the pen in your hand pauses in anticipation. Your eyes cut to him, curious.

“People are starting to talk.”

“About what?”

Another sigh and shake of his head. When his eyes meet yours, it’s as if he’s silently pleading for you to understand his vague remarks.

Seeing a crease begin between your brows, Hopper knows he’ll have to come out and say it. He glances to the door, checking that no one lingers in the hall outside. 

“‘Bout you and Harrington.”

An awkward moment passes before you cap your pen and set aside the essays you’d been grading. You’d always been a cool customer, Hopper recalls, even as a student–all calming breaths and calculated replies. Never quick to anger or snap judgments, always holding out for a rational explanation; or, as the case so often is, to hear a rambling teenager’s interpretation of events.

And he knows, god does he know, how difficult the past year has been for you. The last thing he wants to do is quash any semblance of happiness you’ve managed to find as you meticulously picked up the shattered pieces of your life. But–

“There’s nothing to say.”

The response shocks him, and his broad shoulders slack.

“That so?”

You softly clear your throat before resuming your grading. “Cards on the table?” 

He nods mutely.

“We’re living together.”

“Huh?!” He nearly shouts.

His response surprises you, and you subtly raise an eyebrow.

“You’re… looking at me pretty intensely here, Chief.”

He begins to sputter and flushes nearly rouge. “Oh, that’s just uh–” Jim Hopper takes a deep breath, “And you’re sure there’s nothin–”

“Just friends,” you shrug, placing the marked essay in the stack to your right. “I was in tough spot and he offered to help me out.”

The walkie at his hip crackles to life. “Base to eleven, base to eleven; over.”

With a sigh he radios back, “Eleven to base, copy.”

You can hear the exhaustion in Joyce’s voice when she responds, “Code green in the language hall’s boys’ bathroom; over.”

Hop pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Copy.”

He rises from the chair he’d pulled up to your desk, joints popping. You let out a soft snort at his predicament. “5 bucks says it’s Wheeler,” you mutter, shuffling essays.

He rasps a laugh, “You’re on.”

Glancing to the clock above the door, you quickly stand and usher him out into the hall. You kick the doorstop into place and lean against the wall. “Give ‘em hell Hop,” you say by way of goodbye, a little too loudly. “Flush that vape down the drain!”

He turns back at that, eyes a silent plea for you to keep it down as students flood the halls in time with the bell. Steve joins you mere seconds later, door propped open to take in the exchange. 

“What was that all about?”

You shrug casually, “Code green,” you whisper, voice hushed as the early arrivals wander in to the classroom. 

A slow smirk pulls across his lips, “Wheeler?”

“Oh, a hundred percent.”

He scoffs, “Vaping? Who are they kidding–sucking from a glorified MP3 player does not make you look cool.”

“And you’d know all about that, I suppose,” you quip back.

“Damn straight,” he nods to a few students in greeting. “You have to light a cigarette, at least there’s a semblance of danger there.”

“Right, because the imminent threat of emphysema and lung cancer wasn’t enough.”

He laughs brightly, “See, you get it!”

“Uh huh,” you kick the doorstop back into your classroom as the bell rings out, “So saith the King.”

A mop of curls attempts to enter without your notice, Steve clocks it too and raises his brows in interest. You roll your eyes at him, mouthing ‘later’ and follow Henderson into the classroom. He takes his seat and begins to pull out his supplies. Greeting a few students as they settle in, you stop just shy of his desk. 

Squirrely on the best of days, Dustin spies you from the corner of his eye and continues to line up the pens and pencils on his desk. 

You bide your time, waving to a few students in the interim; you can wait it out with the best of ‘em. And that is clearly what Dustin is trying to do now. “So, it’s gonna be like that, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” is his perfunctory response.

“Is that so?” You find yourself echoing Hop from earlier, “I was just going to commend you on that latest timed writing assignment,” you keep your tone light. “Your analysis of Elie Wiesel’s Nobel Prize Acceptance speech was beautifully done.” 

He abruptly stops fiddling with the pens at his desk.

“The way you noted the allusions and repeated rhetorical strategies from Night was–”

“I didn’t write it!” He admits, eyes screwed shut in embarrassment, “I-I ran out of time and used Chat GPT–”

“Hah!” You shout indignantly pointing at him and walking to the lectern, “I knew it Henderson, I knew it!”

By now the rest of the class has filed and in taken their seats. You diligently uncap an expo marker to add Dustin’s initials to the ‘You Suck’ column on the whiteboard. With an exaggerated pout, you slowly erase the ‘D.H.’ from the ‘You Rule’ column. 

The class emits a prolonged ‘oooh’ as you hop on to your chair and wave a hand for them to stop. Curiously, Mike Wheeler is absent and you make a mental note to text Hop to pay up later. 

“Standard procedure Dustin,” you say as a reminder, “A call home, email to teachers, zero in the gradebook until the assignment can be corrected during mandatory week-long tutorials.”

He sulks in his seat, slouching low against the back of the plastic chair, “But I’ll miss Hellfire!”

“Tsk,” you cluck, “Should’ve thought about that before plagiarizing. Munson’ll never let you live it down.”

Turning to the board, you move to go over the day’s agenda when Sinclair pipes up.

“Okay, but is it technically plagiarism?”

You appreciate his attempt to go to bat for his friend, you really do. And you’d hate to crush his burgeoning inquiry, anyway.

“Interesting line of thought… Continue.”

Lucas hesitates as the attention of the class falls on him, “Well, I just– It’s an AI. There’s no previous ownership over the product, right?”

You breathe out a sigh, “True, AI sentience has yet to be determined,” you acknowledge, “But intellectual ownership is what’s important here.”

Dustin sinks lower in his chair, if at all possible.

“At the end of the day, what Henderson did is really no better than…” you take a pause for effect, “Saaaay Christian’s use of Cyrano’s words for Roxane’s affections.”

The class audibly groans as you bring them back to the task and text at hand. You smile brightly and continue with the day’s lesson.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #reader insert #fanfiction #the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy

[vertigoed]

everything i wanted | gojo satoru

Summary: Your best friend had turned into a cold blooded killer overnight and your boyfriend had to be his executioner. You couldn’t cope with the horrors and insanity being a sorcerer entailed and fled to the other side of the world without a single goodbye.  A decade has passed and you find yourself being a teacher at Jujutsu high, along with your high school sweetheart that you abandoned when he needed you the most. 

Warning: mention of drugs and depression 

MASTERLIST

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You step out of the car with your hands tightly gripping your handbag, the familiar school gates stood tall before you and the memories instantly started flooding back. It felt like yesterday when you were having lunch with Gojo, Shoko and Geto underneath that maple tree. 

You were only 17 when you left Japan, unable to handle the tragedy of losing your boyfriend and your best friend in a span of a month. Your teenage self felt like the longer you stayed, the deeper the blade dug into your wounds so you packed your suitcase and left without looking back. 

You wanted a fresh start, somewhere you could be invisible and live a quiet life without the painful reminders of the past and the burden of having to protect others. 

It’s been a decade since the incident and you would think time has healed you, but it didn’t. Time has been nothing but cruel to you, flying by within a blink of an eye, and of course that was your fault. You did spend every waking moment trying to numb the pain with all sorts of substances.

With a deep breath, you begun walking with your head held high but silently praying to the Gods that you wouldn’t run into you know who. 

The only reason why you had returned to your home country was because Yaga had personally contacted you to ask you to come back to Japan and start teaching at Jujutsu Tech. At first you declined, after all, why would you go back to the place you were running away from? 

But then Yaga opened up the real reason why he needed you to come back so badly. There had been influx of unclassified special grade curses and curse users specifically attacking Jujutsu students. Three students had already died and the faculty staff were busy fighting off these attacks and in dire need of more help. 

He mentioned on the phone multiple times that “they can’t do this without you” so you were left with no choice but to say yes. 

Jujutsu Tech looked exactly the same as you had remembered, it was like you never left. 

You reminisced the old times as you walked on the same cobblestone path that you always chased Satoru on because he either stolen your MP3 player or he had said something to piss you off.

You smile to yourself, remembering how you thought you were such an adult back then because you were saving lives and all. But, in reality, you guys were all just kids being forced to play grown ups.

You walked deeper into the school grounds, enjoying the beautiful autumn scenery. The trees were adorned with hues of gold, red, and orange leaves, which flutter gently in the crisp breeze. 

“Y/N?”

Your heart sinks, mind began racing and palms sweating at the recognition of that voice. You slowly turned around, trying to keep your composure to look calm and collected. 

You had practiced for this moment for weeks now. You planned exactly what you were going to say but the moment he came into your vision, everything went out the window. 

“Hi?” your voice came out shaky and already your face started to heat up. 

Satoru looked the same but different, maybe a bit taller and his shoulders had gotten even broader than it already was. His blonde hair was still unruly as ever but instead of his signature glasses that he use to wear, his eyes were covered by a thick black bandana that also kept his long fringe away from his head. 

“I heard you were coming,” Satoru begun walking over to yours with a toothy grin, “You look great.” 

You noticed his voice had gotten deeper. You had always remembered Gojo as that cheeky 17 year old boy who was your first love. But, as he got closer, you started to realise time has aged him like fine wine. You blushed harder and looked away.  Just being in his presence has turned your brain to mush, making you wish you could sink into the ground and hide. 

“How have you been?” Satoru continued, eyeing you up and down. You felt self conscious all of a sudden, aware you weren’t as dolled up like you use to back in high school. 

“Ah, good, I guess,” you replied with a shrug, running your fingers through your hair to soothe your nerves, “I was living in London, haven’t really done any jujutsu in a while so interesting to see how that goes...” you trail off, peering up at him through your eyelashes to see his reaction. 

He still had a smile on his face like you were just telling him what you had for lunch. Never mind the fact that you two dated for a year and you had pretty much ghosted him after he had to execute his best friend. You abandoned Satoru when he needed you the most, so the fact that he was smiling brightly at you as if all was good, was secretly killing you inside. 

You wanted him to be angry, to go off at you and be petty, just so you can rid of the guilt that’s been deteriorating you. 

“Don’t worry you’ll be fine, you’re y/n the ice queen,” he joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

You grimaced at the mention of your innate cursed technique, more specifically when you are most emotionally charged, your cursed technique subconsciously manipulated matter into acid snow. Snow that would freeze burn your enemies. The last time you had accidentally manifested this was when you saw Satoru be stabbed in the neck and you had thought he had died. You were in hysterics to put it lightly and as you sobbed on the ground, you didn’t even realise it was snowing during that hot humid day.

At that time you didn’t know how to control the technique and ended up freezing several innocent bystanders. Satoru noticed your discomfort and hastily changed the subject.

“You look tired, want me to get you a coffee?” 

You shook your head, looking down at your fingers as you nervously play with your rings. You took a deep breath, and looked up at him, “Satoru... I’m really fucking sorry-”

“It’s okay, it was 10 years ago,” he cut you off with a wave of his hands, he grabbed your shoulder and ushered you to start walking with him, “Besides, I get it, it must’ve been hard for you.” 

You broke down straight away at his words, a rush of emotions flooded through you. The weight of the guilt and shame that you carried for a decade broke apart.

You tried to talk through your sobs but no words could come out. As you cried into your hands, you feel Gojo’s long arms wrap around you and pull you into a warm, familiar embrace. This only made you cry harder. You had missed his touch, his voice, his smell. You missed Satoru so much that you wasted your 20s trying to forget him. 

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his hand cradled the back of your head and his hug tightened as you sobbed harder, the emotional pain was too much for you to handle. 

“I-I’m so, so, so sorry,” you choked out between your cries, “I was selfish, I didn’t know how to deal with anything. I should’ve been there for you when you needed me the most, I honestly deserve to be hit by you-”

“Hey don’t say that.. come on, look at me,” he pulled away and removed his blindfold, gently cupping your chin so you would raise your head. Your tear soaked eyes met his sky blue blue orbs. 

And it that moment, you could swear the time had stopped. You were mesmerised to be put it lightly. His hypnotic eyes glistened in their own light with bright hues that twinkled like stars. You quickly looked away, knowing you were staring like a fool. 

“I knew my eyes would stop you from crying,” he said playfully as he softly wiped your tears from your cheeks. 

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, he was still as cocky as he was in high school. You wiped your snotty nose with the back of your sweater, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Come on, I’ll take you somewhere more private,” he casually draped his arm over your shoulder and you tried to ignore the pang of nostalgia that hit you, knowing all too well that you shouldn’t get use to this. 

You hated that despite the many years that had passed, being in his arm still felt like home. 

_________________________________________________

like for part 2 

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru angst #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo imagine #jujutsu kaisen imsgine #jjk #jujutsu yuji #sakuna #megumi #gojo satoru x you

[phr0gg13]

A Manticore Crashed my 14th Birthday Party

(Part 1)

Luke Castellan x Daughter Of Hecate!

(Series Masterlist)

Heres part one of the chapter! I didnt realize that it was too long for tumblr… Whoops! (Part Two)

I hated school with a passion. My father had me sent away to a private school at the age of 12. He said I would academically excel there as well as not feel so isolated, that there would be more kids like me. Well… He was wrong. Completely and utterly so. In my two years at this school, I have been nothing but an outcast. My father has made it a tradition to write to me as often as possible and try to visit whenever his work allows him. He has even made sure to visit me on my birthday. Today was the day, November 16th, I finally turned 14, meaning I also began my freshman year. Whooo!! My father will be here sometime in the afternoon, and we will get milkshakes and catch up. He will also give me a gift, which is usually not all that expensive. We discussed it throughout letters, and I always thoroughly enjoy the presents. Though this year, I secretly wish for an MP3 player. I had told my dad that I yearn for my own music, and he told me that he would see what he could do.

I had gotten through the utterly boring classes today, and now it was later in the afternoon. My father would be here soon, and I was getting dressed in some comfy clothes. There was a knock at my door, and a voice came through it: “Ms. Cain, your father has arrived and is downstairs in the lobby waiting for you.” It was the headmistress of the girls' dormitory. I let out a small sigh as I ran my hands over my outfit; I was nervous for some reason. I didn't know why; I never am nervous to see my dad. I went to the door and opened it. “There you are! Come on, you do not want to leave your father waiting,” Ms. Lucia ushered me downstairs, and I saw my father. He was as cleaned up as he could be. He worked hard, long days at construction sites, but he was looking quite cleaned up. I quickly went up and hugged him. “Hey kiddo.” His gruff voice came out, and he held me tight. “Happy birthday, are you ready to go get a milkshake?” He smiled at me as he squatted down to my height a bit. I nodded my head, not being able to find my voice for some reason; this was weird. I was acting weird, and I didn't know why. He gave me a small smile, and we went to his beat-up truck. I rested my head against the window and closed my eyes. I focused on the vibrations of the truck window against my head as a way to ease my anxiety.

“You okay, Kiddo?” I heard my father ask with worry in his voice. “Yeah… I'm okay,” I responded quietly, meaning to be louder. My body seemed not to want to raise my voice. As we entered the old-fashioned diner, which seemed to be one of the more popular spots in this small town, the odd feeling I had before came back in full force. My father and I made our way to the booth; I sat down on one side while he sat on the other. He smiled at me and grabbed the menu. “Let me guess what you want.” He had a playful tone to his words as he dramatically rubbed his chin. “A hot sauce and mayo milkshake?” He said with a grin on his face. I giggled and shook my head. “I want a strawberry one! You should know this; I get it every time.” I rolled my eyes at his antics; I was starting to feel a bit better now that we were sitting. Eventually, a waitress came over and started to ask about our orders. My dad ordered for me, though I tuned out their conversation as the waitress started to flirt with him. Gross.

I turned my attention to the window and saw that the sky had changed drastically; it was dark and gloomy. I had even seen some lightning in the distance. I closed my eyes as I felt the feeling come back. Every cell in my body was telling me to run and hide. I didn’t understand; I was completely fine! That was until I heard screaming from outside. I whipped my head and looked to see a giant lion with wings? It had a scorpion tail too, and it had landed on someone's car. I looked over to my father, seeing the look on his face made me feel even worse. He was mortified; I had never seen him like this before. “Honey, we have to go. Now!” He shouted as he got out of the booth. He grabbed onto my arm and pulled me out of the booth. We started to run out of the diner to the truck. I was so confused. “Dad? What's going on? What is that?” He shook his head as he fiddled with his keys; the truck was giving him trouble starting. I thought he was gonna break his key with how hard he was turning it. I looked out the window and saw the lion was coming towards us. Eventually, my dad got the truck to start; he stepped on the gas as hard as he could, and we were off. I hugged myself tight as I tried to calm myself. “It's okay, kiddo… We are okay!” My dad's tone almost seemed like he was pleading with someone. He continued to speed away from the diner…

#percy jackson fanfiction #luke castellan #percy jackson #annabeth chase #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo series #pjo tv show #luke castellan fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo #pjo fandom #pjo x reader #pjo disney+

[lesbian-empress-nero]

It seemed like ages passed in the hospital, eons spent waiting for results.

Akihiko’s knee bounced incessantly, even after Makoto put a hand on it reassuringly. Akihiko looked over at him, noted how pale he looked, noted the blood that had dried under his fingernails from the desperate attempt to staunch the bloodflow from Shinji’s wound.

“He was still breathing when we brought him in,” Makoto pointed out, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands shook, the one on Akihiko’s jumpy knee and the one clenched into a fist around his mp3 player.

“I’m scared,” Akihiko confessed, his voice shaking. “I’m scared that I’ll end up losing my best friend. I can’t- I can’t lose him too...”

He was aware of Mitsuru looking at him, of the worry that furrowed her brow, but he ignored it. He was busy throwing up his heart.

“I know. ‘There’s nothing we can do right now,’ that’s what they always say in movies. But it doesn’t take away the fear. I’m scared too, Akihiko. I’m terrified that I’ll lose a guy I never had the chance to know better beyond a few gruff words in the lobby. I don’t want to lose him either.” Makoto really did look scared. His lower lip trembled, his eyes shone with unshed tears. He was pale and shaky and looked like he was about to throw up.

The telltale click of a door shut everyone up. All eyes were on the doctor as he walked out, bearing a clipboard and a grim face.

That expression made Akihiko’s blood run cold. His skin turned to ice, and he froze. Please, he silently begged. Please, let Shinji be alive.

“He’s in a coma. Thankfully, it isn’t a deep one- he’ll most definitely wake up. However, we are looking at about two to three weeks before then.”

He was alive. Despite being shot, despite losing so much blood, despite those wretched suppressants that Akihiko now knows he was taking, Shinji was alive.

Akihiko should have known better than to doubt him.

“Can he have visitors?” Yukari asked tentatively, and the doctor nodded.

“Yes. Whenever you all are ready. Though, I suggest only one at a time for the first week or so. After that, it is up to you how many you deem fit to visit.”

After the doctor turned on his heel and strode down the corridor, all eyes turned to Akihiko.

“You should visit him, Akihiko. He’d want to see you first,” Makoto murmured. Akihiko knew he was right, and had to admit that the kid knew Shinji better than he gave himself credit for.

“Yuki. You can visit him next. After all, you helped save his life,” Mitsuru said.

Akihiko didn’t linger to hear Makoto’s arguments. He made a beeline straight for Shinji’s door, the dried blood on his hands itching the entire way.

There he was, Shinjiro Aragaki, laying on the bed. He was hooked up to a number of machines and wires, like some kind of speciman from his shitty sci-fi movies.

And yet, he looked almost peaceful. There was no scowl on his lips, no furrow to his brow. But he was still pale, his cheeks were still gaunt, his eyes were still darkly circled and sunken. Some things couldn’t be changed in a few hours.

Akihiko sank down into the chair beside him, sighing. “You’re a dumbass, Shinji. You know that? I mean, what were you thinking!? Did you think you deserved to die? Did you think at all?”

He knew it wasn’t fair to Shinji to unwrap all of his rage and grief and sorrow right there beside him, but he continued to anyways. He figured Shinji wouldn’t mind.

“We care about you, Shinji! Did you think we wouldn’t miss you? Did you consider the grief you’d cause us? Mitsuru can’t handle another heartbreak! I can’t handle losing another person!”

He was crying now, sobbing at Shinji’s bedside, clutching his hand and clinging to it.

“You’re selfish, Shinji. You’re a selfish asshole and I’m so fucking glad you’re alive because I don’t know what I might have done if you weren’t,” Akihiko whispered, breath catching with a new wave of sobs.

“...God, when did I get so soft, huh? Probably sometime around when Makoto arrived. Guy’s got a knack for that sort of thing, doesn’t he? Even Mitsu likes him... Do you think Miki would have liked him? He’s pretty quiet, so she might have tried to get him to talk more. Probably would have driven him crazy asking about his mp3 player. But I think... I think they would have been friends.”

Akihiko glanced at the clock, cursing quietly when he saw how long he’d been in there for.

“I’ll visit you tomorrow, okay? I’ll bring Ken along. Bye, Shinji.”

The ride home seemed to last forever, but it was forever spent in relieved silence. Makoto and Fuuka were sharing earbuds, Mitsuru, Junpei and Yukari were talking quietly, and Akihiko was hugging Ken as tightly as the kid would let him.

Ken was trembling with sobs, his tiny hands shaking as they clung to Akihiko’s vest. Sometimes Akihiko forgot how young he was, how young he had been when the incident happened.

“It’s okay, Ken... He’s okay. I’ll bring you there tomorrow after school and you can talk to him all you want. We can get ice cream after, even, if you want. Does that sound okay?”

Ken didn’t move his head from its place against Akihiko’s chest, but he nodded slightly. Akihiko rubbed his back, holding him close.

Shinji was alive. And somehow, just the fact alone was a comfort.

Because that meant that one day, he would wake up. And everything would be okay again.

RAYAGGGYHG JUMPING OFF WALLS RN of course aki would be mad at shinji. them insulting each other is how they always talk. its like a love language. also AKI COMFORTING KEN!!!! THE FATHER FIGURE AKI!!!! shinji lives... the tension in waiting to hear if shinji would live or not is so..... ghhhrghrhhh eatjng this fic like a tasty snack

#nero answers #shackle-foes #shinjiaki #akishinji #persona 3 spoilers #persona 3 #shinjiro aragaki #ken amada #akihiko sanada

[secondbeatsongs]

@fishmech replied to your post “”:

@secondbeatsongs well the convenient thing for winamp skins, is the skin file is actually just a renamed zip, containing standard image formats, and for these freeform "modern" skins introduced in winamp 3 onwards, xml files describing what parts of the images are meant to do what function/display what info etc. older winamp skins that are confined to the standard window shapes are even simpler, cuz you just need images in a renamed zip file

@secondbeatsongs i'd reccomend starting by simply making copies of the default Classic and Modern skins that come with winamp , and just start editing off those as templates to get a feel for what works and what doesn't. and of course any modern graphics package should offer tools to create simple gradients and fake reflections and all the rest key to this particular style, you'll just need to make sure your output files are in the right sizes.

​so the good thing about this is that windows media player skins pretty much work the same way, so I'm sure I already know how, skills-wise - I made a bunch of WMP skins as a kid, so I know how to do the XML and the hover images and everything.

it's really the amorphous shiny-smooth graphics that I love so much, and that's what I desperately want to learn how to do. I want to make things that look like weird old mp3 players! I want the cluefinders laptrap aesthetic! I want to make things that look like they stepped out of a late-90s or early-00s disney channel original movie!

so yeah! code-wise and image-formatting-wise, I can do it. but unfortunately I am not good enough yet at the shiny fake reflections to make things exactly how I want.

ah well. I'll get there eventually!

also, for funsies: here are screencaps of some of the WMP skins I made back in the day:

...y'know, looking back at these, these are pretty good, considering I was 12-14 when I made all of them! I was not bad at graphic design, turns out!

and a lot of them have bonus stuff - the ones that have a picture for the play button, the picture changes into something else when you hover over them - like, in the Mythbusters one, the truck explodes, or in the ASOUE one, the eye turns into a picture of Count Olaf.

there's some fun alt text too (esp in the ASOUE one)

and if you hover over Adam and Jamie in the Mythbusters one, little speech bubbles pop up with quotes from the show

these are like! not bad for a literal twelve-year-old! I'm proud of past!me!

#fishmech #young wizards #twilight #mythbusters #eragon #nancy drew #asoue #wicked #narnia #those are all the fandoms of the WMP skins in the screenshots #ah the mid-late 00s 🥲 #personal #sbs rambles

[oftlunarialmoon]

5 Fun Ideas for Your Agere/Littlespace Bag!

Ciao lovelies! Before I begin, I’d like to thank one of you lovelies, named Isobel, for the suggestion behind this post! I am slowly working my way through the requests currently in the blog post request form, but don’t let that discourage any of you from sharing your requests! ^-^ and thanks for the patience on that so far! In today’s post, to answer Isobel’s request for something related to an agere bag, I will be sharing 5 fun ideas for your agere/littlepace bag! Including decoration ideas, things to pack within, and some subtle/discreet regression ideas too! I hope you like this post, and let’s get into it!

Once again, thank you Isobel for this suggestion! 

I know many of my fellow age regressors / littles out there can’t openly be themselves for fear of judgment or bullying, so a lot of you have to be discreet or subtle about your littlespace. I wish we could live in a world that’s more open and accepting to everyone, but for now, this list has some discreet regression suggestions for you ! Let me know if you’d like to see more ideas like that in the future!

5 Fun Ideas for Your Agere/Littlespace Bag!

IDEA #1: Personalize / Decorate a Plain Backpack!

there are many other ways to make your agere bag unique! You could use patches, buttons, keychains, fabric paint….there’s a lot you can do with a plain backpack! For those worried about being discreet, you can always explain a cute bag as kawaii or alternative fashion inspired, and doubly so if you use fandom decorations from shows you like when small! :)

Your bag would be super personal to you, and also shows your secret little side~!

Now let’s move to some ideas of items that can be packed in your bag for discreet regression! 

IDEA #2: Subtle Babey Snacks!

It’s super easy to bring along snacks like fruit snacks, goldfish, bite size muffins, etc, and these can double as regression snacks! 

I personally like goldfish, fruit snacks, and scooby snacks! (Scooby snacks are also good for those of you who pet regress!)

You can take this a step further with cute or kawaii food storage containers, or just tupperware that you can cover with stickers!

IDEA #3: Personalize your Devices!

So you could get a cute phonecase , which is an easy and cute way to feel little, but you could also personalize your phone or mp3 player with things like cute stickers on the outside! AND, now with the iphone updates, you could customize the icons in your phone, lockscreen images, etc! :) You could even make your passcode a secret reference to a small time show you like !!

Another thing you can do is DIY a cute case for your phone out of felt! Check out THIS DIY from OFT’s past where I made a cute cat pouch for your device!

IDEA #4: Tiny Toys! 

Okay, this is a little less subtle, but you can bring small toys or minifigures in your small bag! It may feel a little uncomfortable to do so at first, but you can give a lot of reasons for this!

Possible explanations for toys in your bag:

“I have a job as a babysitter after school and these are for the kids there.”

“I am an ameteur photographer and I like using these for practice.”

“I thought these looked cute and possibly would make nice fidget toys”

“I like to have something in my hands when I focus”

Etc, but you can also just give a simple:

“I think they’re cool.” 

You don’t owe anyone an explanation for the things you like, and you don’t need to be ashamed. What you share with others is your business, and your business only!

IDEA #5: Cute Memo Pads!

This is a fun one, because it can be so easily explained and can add this awesome moment of cuteness and secret smallness to your day! A lot of people carry memo pads or to-do lists, and it’s not unusual to have cute ones! You can even pair this up with a kawaii pen or pencil, and it’s totally normal, and flies easily under everyone’s radar. Kawaii stationery has been a common interest for a while, so it won’t make anyone suspicious.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this, Isobel, and everyone else as well!

And now the most important part: please remember to stay AWESOME and LOVE yourself!! You are epic, awesome, and amazing, and you deserve to know this each and every day! Be sure to give yourself positive affirmation each and every day! 

I’ll see you in the next post, video, or whatever comes next!

#agere #age regression #sfw littlespace #sfw agere #age regressor #sfw age regression #agereg #age dreaming #sfw little blog

[radioactivedragonspit]

Back In The Ol' Days [2014] we had the punk/nerd AU... but I have my gripes with the PNAU; it feels outdated to me. In 2014 I ate that shit up, but it's 2024 and the rampant micro-trends have me re-thinkin modern Hijack portrayals...

So here I am to propose a new PNAU: Grunge X Emo.

Hiccup as a cozy grunge kind of guy- basically just classic comfy casual clothes but with earthy tones, ripped up jeans covered in motor oil stains, and loose flannel shirts over worn-out tees.

Jack as a casual emo kind of guy- Skinny jeans with rips (often on the end of the legs cause they annoy them when they're too long), tight band tees, and his classic hoodie he can disappear into the shadowy hood of to sulk.

Elaboration ⬇️

I think it could be fun to explore the way Hiccup has a ton of hand-me-downs and spends a lot of time patching up old clothes, or adding custom painted patches to his bags. Maybe he knows how to sew just from patching/mending. I like that in the movies we see him doing bith heavy work in the forge, and having gentle hands as an artist. I think he'd be good at a ton of different diy skills and put them to practical use with his wardrobe.

In canon, Hiccup does have a lot of leftist and punk ideology; The Edge is literally equal-ownership equal-imput everyone else just decides he runs the show. And he literally changes the dominant mindset of the society he lives in to better the life of both his people and the ones they've been at war with for decades. Hes pretty punk... but I don't see him going so far aesthetically as to be a full Spiky Punk TM. He's always on the move, working on something, or chilling outside with Toothless, so I think a more casual comfortable style suits him. Though I do think he would like jackets with extra straps and buckles on the pockets and stuff, and maybe a good belt bag + leatherman combo. Totally the type to always have a pocket knife. He'd paint himself patches and slap a few of em on his bags, coats, maybe over that burn hole in his jeans that's been annoying him. He'd favor practicality over aesthetic, but he still has a sense of style. As he gets older he probably leans into the edgier style, wearing more black and red combos, more strappy belts/coats/bags, and even gets a few tattoos. But I do see him as a grungey earthy engineering guy with comfy, often oversized silhouettes.

Jack I could see being super impulsive and latching onto pop culture; something emos were notorious for. I, personally, was clamoring for a branded tee shirt the moment I deemed a band good enough to youtube->mp3 to my ipod. I could see Jack doing that kind of thing, and latching onto this misunderstood invisible-yet-visibly-different identity. He probably favors dark blue, brown, and black. Deffinitely the type to get on the colored jeans trend when it hit. Maybe he even doodles little swirling patterns on his clothes when he's bored- an adhd habit I know all too well.

Without being, yanno, dead, Jack's Different Look would probably come just from him wanting to express himself. He feels isolated and finds it hard to make lasting friends because when people *do* notice him, they tend to see him more as a silly little jester than a person worth getting to know. He copes with humor and trying to get attention every now and again but ends up with a closer knit group of oddballs. He's good with kids, of course, and tends to take on a cool-big-brother to anyone in need of one. All of this playing into this casual and easy-going but edgy, kinda emo look. He probably listens to sad emo music while sitting on a roof, staring at the moon, contemplating his purpose in life. He pretty much does that in his movie so it isn't much of a stretch lol.

Anyways, feel free ro give your 2 cents and build onto or off of this as you please, I'm just brainstorming I guess. Thinkin aloud... visually. I tend to like psychoanalyzing characters and it's interesting to me to think of Hic & Jack's canon portrayals and what they would mean in a modern-human AU.

#mad ramblings #grunge/emo AU #hijack #AU ideas i guess #i psychoanalyze pixels #because i love them #frostcup

[numbuh]

Do you think the decommissioning squad has a way to make sure people don’t just. Write down somewhere that they were in the KND

great question! i think, even if an operative did that, they wouldn't understand it? like, if you just wrote "you were in the knd. you were numbuh [#]" it would read like gibberish. in operation end, the way post-decom numbuhs 2 to 5 reacted to nigel claiming they were kids next door was disastrous. even if you wrote a long, elaborate explanation of what the knd is/does and claimed they wiped your memories... would you believe it? would you leave some kind of evidence to convince yourself?

if yes, what would you do with that information? the memories aren't coming back. you can't interact with your old sector/knd friends because it's not allowed. if there's no other evidence, you'd have to rely on what little your parents and other friends knew to confirm you were really an operative. you don't even remember how to fight (sure, maybe some reflex stuff or only if provoked a certain way, ie. numbuh 4 punching chad right in the face) so it'd be setting yourself up for failure/missing a life you can't get back to. snooping around for secrets or trying to play rogue tnd (without even knowing about it) will only put you and other operatives at risk.

on the other hand, it could backfire from the very start: you believe it, but you don't care. you're a teenager now. why should you care? those little kids fighting supervillains aren't your problem. the squad may consider that outcome more often than not because that's how it's supposed to be. being indifferent or cynical about kids and just living your life as if nothing happened. you also might join the evil teens despite any indifference. that, and you betrayed the knd by purposely writing down all that info for your post-decom self to begin with. what if someone else finds it? if you're quiet about it, no one has to find out. good or bad.

regardless, i feel there would be some sort of effort to get rid of knd stuff at home before getting decommissioned. maybe it's another honesty/loyalty thing and you would hand over all your 2x4 tech and such to your sector leader the night before (if you're not the leader, that is)... traitors would hide things and lie that they've given everything they've got. majority of stuff should be in the treehouse anyway. or maybe the squad checks the house when they bring the operative back (or while someone else brings them back, like 5 did for maurice,) which is really jarring if they're aware of it. these weird kids are going through their stuff LOL. most parents would be oblivious. the squad could miss anything hidden super well like a paper. they're not there to waste time looking through every nook and cranny of your home unless it's urgent, if they go through it at all. certain things can stay. anything with your numbuh on it that's not gear will just look like a random favorite number after decom. really depends on what you think: would they even bother to check houses for things like that? is it the standard or is it just something they do at random/when an operative is suspicious or important?

i have the belief that it's surprisingly easy to become a fugitive and stay one for a short while— as long as you know what you're doing. most kids wouldn't have the idea to pull wires out of a g.o.g.e.t.t.e.r. (in space no less??) or chad's idea to attach his mp3 player to the speaker in one to cause a crash, even if those were both arguably reckless examples (nigel was 100% correct that he and chad could've died.) i would imagine that mayyybe some things get overlooked by 86 and the squad and, in retrospect, really shouldn't have been. things that might get them an earful from their supreme leader later.

#anon #asks #knd #codename kids next door #kids next door #transmission.txt #decom talk #long post #queue #i'm aware any incompetence or general oversight we see from the squad is mostly due to like #when it's relevant to sector v and their experiences cuz that's what the show focuses on. meanwhile #operation forget gave us a number of over 175 traitors that got captured by the now former squad lieutenant within the span of 3 years #it's unknown how many fugitives were still on the run after 3 years but the number has to be incredibly small i would think. on average #most runners do not have that much luck and most operatives are so loyal that the possibility of fugitives is pretty low

[envihellbender]

Buried avatar Gerry

Rating: General Audience

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Gerard Keay, Michael Shelley

Content: buried alive, rodents, abuse reference

Summary: Buried!Gerard goes the Magnus Institute to give his statement, but he’ll only talk to Michael.

—

[WE ARE GREETED BY THE CLICK OF A TAPE RECORDER]

MICHAEL

Statement of Gerard Keay regarding his experience with Hezekiah Wakeley. Recording by researcher Michael Shelley. Statement Begins. [A PAUSE.] So, in your own time, Gerard. Whenever your ready.

GERARD

Oh erm. Okay. So. Yeah. This one isn’t really about mum like the others but I guess that’s the easiest way to explain it, you know? I’ve already told you about the tattoos and mum’s experiments, so next step is how I escaped it. It was her own fault really, she introduced me to my home. I just curled up in the Mother Earth’s arms and never let go. So she messed up, really. Anyway. I was supposed to be getting my buried tattoo, and just like the others it was supposed to be torture… but it didn’t work? Like, okay, so back then I didn’t have mud everywhere and didn’t have the rodent thing.

[THERE IS AN INDIGNANT SQUEAK FOLLOWED BY THE NOISE OF SHUFFLING.]

[GERARD WHISPERS INTO HIS COAT] Hey, y’alright, mate? [HIS VOICE IS LOUDER AS HE TURNS BACK TO MICHAEL.] Sorry, is it alright if Corpsegrinder has a wander around? He’s getting fussy.

MICHAEL

[A SMALL GASP OF SURPRISE, HIS VOICE IS NERVOUS.] Oh! I- yes, of course. By all means. Oh, he’s cute. My boss might not be quite so amenable if he gets out though.

GERARD

It’s alright, he won’t go far. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. So, mum originally did the usual sort of thing. This time she drugged me whilst I slept and had me moved into a coffin. So I woke up, and… it was nice. It was comforting. I was surrounded by all sides and held tight. It was like I was a kid again, swaddled against mum’s chest in a way I can’t imagine mum ever actually doing. It was pure black, my eyes could rest for the first time. The only thing that would’ve improved it was music, otherwise it just seemed like… Comfortable. Pure. Not remotely terrifying. And maybe that was a sign that the thing already had started to grow inside me. Which is definitely possible because I used to climb into the empty graves at the cemetery down the road when I was a kid, I’d be like, 13, and sneak out after lights out and go to just lay in the soft warm earth. I had my cheap MP3 player playing some music and I was completely safe. I fell asleep there sometimes. I was at peace. It was like that but I wasn’t rudely awakened at six by the gravedigger.

But no, right, so I always liked coffins, being wrapped up in small spaces but I figured I was just a goth or something. I used to get my duvet, my teddies, and curl up under my bed with a book, like one of them Artemis Fowl or Animorphs or something like that. So when mum had me locked into a coffin I just curled up happily and fell back to sleep. Didn’t even realise I was locked in. Mum got mad. She had to go further. So next she started dropping dirt on the coffin to make me feel like I was being buried alive, nothing. The only thing that sort of started to work was when she pinned me to the floor, sat on my chest so I could barely breath. She brought Hezekiah round, that was her big mistake I guess? Because he didn’t really scare me. Didn’t want to either. The opposite really. He was- so he told mum he needed privacy to terrify me properly, instead he edged forward, brushed my hair out of my eyes and talked to me for a little while. He put one hand on my shoulder, he told me that he’d be waiting for me by Saint Columba’s Church if I wanted. When he left he told my mum he could help her. I think she thought that meant he’d do what all the others did. But she couldn’t have been more wrong.

So I snuck out that night to the Church, it was a Catholic one I’d not seen before. I saw Wakeley stood by the doors, he had two rodents on one shoulder curled up together looking at me with tiny beady little eyes. And honestly? That night showed me how fucking liberating fear was. Mum only ever turned me into a shaking crying mess but Hezekiah showed me true actual terror and it was … I don’t know. Pure. Without ill intent. He saw how happy I was curled up in the coffin, he whispered to me about how he’d never let Mum hurt me again. He even let me listen to my MP3 player and hold a teddy close to my chest. I was surrounded by darkness and music. I felt every pound of earth that was piled on top of me. I stayed there in absolute bliss for I don’t know how long, all I know is when Hezekiah dug me back up again the cold early signs of Spring had turned to warm sunlight and flowers blooming over the old cemetery. Hezekiah was so happy. Mate, you have no idea. That weird guy had a smile from ear to ear and he fucking hugged me. I knew then what the Earth wanted. I knew my Mum wasn’t really my Mum, you know? She was… Something else. Someone who was trying to drag me from my real purpose. You know?

I did end up going back home, Mum was furious but she saw something different in me then. Saw I was protected. So the experiments on me stopped. That was when she started forcing me to hurt others. Like. Her. But. A lot of the time I refused. Only took those to the earth that I knew deserved it. It’s a privilege not a punishment. Mum’s ideas weren’t pure, not at all. [THERE IS A SMALL CLATTERING] Hey, Corpsegrinder, what’ve you got- Oh. Erm, mate, he says you dropped this?

MICHAEL

[HE IS NERVOUS, DELIGHTED, AND SURPRISED.] Oh! Yes! Thank you! Thank you erm… Corpsegrinder? Erm. And you, Gerard. Erm, so I guess we’ll leave that one there? Statement ends.

[CLICK]

#envi writes #the Magnus archives #Gerard Keay #Michael Shelley #roleswap au #the buried #buried!Gerry #tma fanfic