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thestarsanctuary · 3 years

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hi! I was hoping you could do a Bakugo, Midoriya, Todoroki and Kirishima (separate) with an s/o that has Tourettes, preferably they/them pronouns please. I hope you're having a good day <3

Of course! I was gonna take a break in the middle of my (unspoken) break aka me being lazy, but this request was so nice I- I had to 😔✋🏾 it was definitely the heart. It got me.

MHA BOYS WITH AN S/O THAT HAS TOURETTES

TW FOR ODD LOOKS AND STARES/BULLYING(ISH)

BAKUGO

Bakugo wasn’t really sure when he first met you about why your head was twitching or why you were repeating the sentences Aizawa had said sometimes, as he didn’t know you had tourettes. He never even spoke to you like the others did so you never had the chance to tell him until Kirishima did.

When you two started dating he started seeing patterns of when you would get to stressed and start jerking or spouting out random things you heard from youtube videos, he did his best to make sure you knew he was there for reassurance, whether it was a hand on your hand or just pure presence.

There were times when you would have ticcing fits and he would have to sit and rub your back and watch you, and in those times you realized he really was there for you.

He likes to do this thing where he rants on about things he doesn’t like to try and distract you- I’m not sure how he has so much he doesn’t like but every time it’s a new odd topic....sometimes it can literally be something like how he hates trees because when it’s fall he has to rake up the leaves and you have to say

“Bakugo they literally help you not die.” It really is a mystery sometimes how he’s so smart.

Sometimes you can be a bit upset with your tics. It’s not that you’re insecure or that you’re ashamed, but they’re difficult to deal with. The control that you could have isn’t there and that’s stressful in and of itself, and in those moments Bakugo realizes the best thing he can do for you - is make you understand that you are just like the rest of the class and the rest of the people in the world.

“Listen it doesn’t matter if you’re different because to me you’re still cool, you’re still funny, you’re still incredibly sarcastic and while I don’t enjoy that for the most part- you’re my extra regardless of whatever you feel. Get that bull out of your head.”

I mean, he wouldn’t date anybody less than the best.

MIDORIYA

Midoriya is the predictable character in the relationship. He researched about Tourettes and what he could do in times when you needed him, I mean he’s not perfect but he’d rather know something rather than nothing.

You tended to be the one who was more of a risk taker, and sometimes your tourettes got in the way of that- which could frustrate you to no end then causing harsher tics like hitting or yelling, and those were the times Midoriya tried to get anything too dangerous either out of your hands- or just out of the way so you didn’t get hurt, he was smart with it.

Other times he could be too much for you, almost treating you like a kid so you had to remind him that you know and understand precautions, but that you also want to live like everybody else and that is nothing short of your business.

You’re favorite activity with him was when he would help you study because he made it so fun for you. It could be hard to pay attention in class sometimes and do your work after school so Izuku would come over and assist you. He would make sure you guys took breaks and that you understood the topic at your own pace.

“Izuku can you like- give an example?”

“Well it’s just kind of- wait what is an example-“

In many situations Midoriya LOVED holding your hand, like he did it at any time, any place. It was something he thought wasn’t too much in public and it was reassuring for you both. When you’re tics got too much you could squeeze his hand, and other times when he wouls get anxious or something would happen he would squeeze yours. It was cute and handy!

There were instances when Midoriya definitely had his mistakes with your tics and how to deal with them but he was willing to take his time and learn because who would he be without his perfect person stayin’ by his side?

KIRISHIMA

Kirishima is probably the most sympathetic with your tics because he stay prepared for them. It’s never been like “Kirishima can you” but it’s always been more like ‘Kiri how do you always know’ and there’s never been an answer that he gave other than ‘I gotta stay ready for my lovely lover~’

Kirishima likes to do this thing where he goes “neck” after you have a rough day with your tics and with massage your neck for you or your back, depending on how your tics were. He likes takin’ care of you, and it’s not like he doesn’t know you can’t take care of yourself because hey, you didn’t get into 1-A by being a pushover.

Sometimes you’ve had times when people in school just aren’t all that accepting and Kirishima will clap back unprovoked.

“Sometimes I think about how sad you have to be to make fun of them and dang man, you got a therapist?”

Other times you’ll basically respond for him, like I said, you can DEFINITELY take care of yourself.

Whenever you’re in the car or on the bus on a trip in the case that you’ve gotten real excited (which is natural being around your boyfriends and your friends at the same time) he’ll play this playlist he made of your favorite songs and sing to distract you. Does he sing well? That wasn’t the question- but he does sing, only for you though because the other students keep dissing him.

He has a reflex of rubbing your back during free period or at lunch. I don’t think this is relevant but it’s something super adorable, and sometimes he just gives you his hand to look at and play with when you have anxiety as well to keep you calm.

Also irrelevant but other times he’ll facetime you before you guys go somewhere and ask what to wear because he wants to match with you, and it’s so cute because you could lie so hard and he’d believe everything you say.

You two are kinda a power couple like- you both can hold your own but also are such nice people, good job makin’ the rest of 1-A feel lonely guys.

TODOROKI

Todoroki is a simple guy. He doesn’t want to overcomplicate things for the most part because “why would I act like your guardian, if I’m literally your boyfriend” and that’s that.

He tends to try and keep you calm, as it’s something pretty simple for him, he knows a bunch of tactics for distractions or when those are obsolete, he’ll just sit there with you, and maybe rub your back or get a water bottle for when it’s done, he just never wants to do too much because he knows your capabilities, and he knows your limits.

He is also a large hand holder. Mostly because he doesn’t like the idea of PDA for the most part, and he doesn’t like leaving your side either, because you’re very comforting to him. It’s a given we all know he needs love and comfort please.

There have been times when people look at your because of your tics in public and Todoroki has had to give a little glare back because of the disrespect being blatantly put out. In rarer times you will both glare at the same time, those are the coolest moments of you as a couple.

Shoto doesn’t really care much for your tics only because he’d rather just make sure you’re ok then watch Avengers rather than treat you like a child if anything, and that’s because you told him first that you wanted a boyfriend not a babysitter (speakin’ facts) and at first he didn’t understand and he thought you didn’t want his help but soon understood otherwise.

Some cute things I like to think of are that he likes to put on your favorite songs when you’re anxious and try to dance for you. It’s not good- let’s start with that, because he’s kinda...stiff, but the attempt is absolutely adorable (and oh so funny).

Other things are he likes to call you cheesy nicknames when you’re cuddling because he likes your reactions everytime, because according to him, yeah he said it himself, you are very adorable when annoyed. Don’t @ me!

Overall he just loves spending time with you whenever he can, you’re truly a safe-haven for him.

EL FIN

Alright tourettes is a real thing y’all, so I didnt make this rainbows n cupcakes bc im sure that’s not always how it is.

If anything in this is offensive or too much for somebody I can take it down and re-do it! I’m not too sure how it is bc it feels kinda repetitive but we’ll see I guess, and thanks to the person who requested my day was fine thanks 😩✋🏾.

I also included some things I like to do (play with hands and listen to music) because i have anxiety and I known that can worsen tics and can also come with tics (a lot of ppl with tics have adhd, anxiety, or some sort of disorder along with it)

- SS <333333

#bnha #bnha x reader #tourettes #tourette syndrome #mha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijiro kirishima #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #kirishima x reader

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kookie-doughs · 3 years

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything is now ruined.

Chapter 22: Then It Ended

As soon as we came, Annabeth ang Grover tackled me. We were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated us as if we'd won some reality-TV contest. According to camp tradition, we wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where we got to burn the burial shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls— Percy told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched him and told him to shut up. Percy being the son of Poseidon, he didn't have any cabin mates, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make his shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle.

As I was still unclaimed, Hermes cabin had made me one. (Just... IDK go crazy with your shroud IG) It was fun to burn. As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and passed out s'mores, Percy and I was surrounded by my Hermes cabinmates, Annabeth's friends from Athena, and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand-new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover's performance on the quest "Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and-whiskers above anything we have seen in the past." The only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabinmates, whose poisonous looks told me they'd never forgive us for disgracing their dad. That was okay with me. Even Dionysus's welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen my spirits. "Yes, yes, so the little brats didn't get themselves killed and now they'll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday...." Going back to the cabin I finally had time to talk to Luke. Who just expressed his relief of me being fine, and how he was scared when Annabeth told everyone about me. No wonder everyone was so shocked seeing me come back with Percy. On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by cabin nine. Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. According to Annabeth, who'd seen the show before, the blasts would be sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors. As Annabeth, Percy and I were spreading a picnic blanket, Grover showed up to tell us good-bye. He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and sneakers, but in the last few weeks he'd started to look older, almost high-school age. His goatee had gotten thicker. He'd put on weight. His horns had grown at least an inch, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human. "I'm off," he said. "I just came to say ... well, you know." I tried to feel happy for him. After all, it wasn't every day a satyr got permission to go look for the great god Pan. But it was hard saying good-bye. I'd only known Grover a year, yet he was my oldest friend. Annabeth and I gave him a hug. She told him to keep his fake feet on. I asked him where he was going to search first. "Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan ..." "We understand," Annabeth said. "You got enough tin cans for the trip?" "Yeah." "And you remembered your reed pipes?" "Jeez, Annabeth," he grumbled. "You're like an old mama goat." But he didn't really sound annoyed. He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway. "Well," he said, "wish me luck." He gave Annabeth and I another hug. He clapped Percy on the shoulder, then headed back through the dunes. Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware. "Hey, Grover," Percy called. He turned at the edge of the woods. "Wherever you're going—I hope they make good enchiladas." Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him. "We'll see him again," Annabeth said. July passed. I spent my daysplanning out strategies with Luke for capture-the-flag and making alliances with the other cabins to keep the banner out of Ares's hands. I got to the top of the climbing wall for the first time without getting scorched by lava. From time to time, Percy and I would walk past the Big House, he'd glance up at the attic windows, and think about the Oracle.

I tried to convince him that its prophecy had come to completion. "You shall go west, and face the god who has turned." "Been there, done that—even though the traitor god had turned out to be Ares rather than Hades." "You shall find what was stolen, and see it safe returned." "Check. One master bolt delivered. One helm of darkness back on Hades." "You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend." Percy recited. "Ares had pretended to be our friend, then betrayed us. That must be what the Oracle meant.... Or maybe Nereid?"

"And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end." He sighed. "I had failed to save my mom and lost you..."

"So why are you still uneasy?" The last night of the summer session came all too quickly. The campers had one last meal together. We burned part of our dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads. Percy and I got our own leather necklace, and when I saw the bead for my first summer. The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the center.

"This is so beautiful..." I smiled to Percy. "The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first Son of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!" The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares's cabin felt obliged to stand. Athena's cabin steered Annabeth to the front so she could share in the applause. I'm not sure I'd ever felt as happy or sad as I did at that moment. I'd finally found a family, people who cared about me and thought I'd done something right. And in the morning, most of them would be leaving for the year. * * * The next morning, Luke called me. He gave me a paper, telling me to fill it out, and asked me to meet him as soon as I could. I knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong: Dear (WRONG NAME) , If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon today. If you do not announce your intentions, we will assume you have vacated your cabin or died a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin work at sundown. They will be authorized to eat any unregistered campers. All personal articles left behind will be incinerated in the lava pit. Have a nice day! Mr. D (Dionysus) Camp Director, Olympian Council #12 That's another thing about ADHD. Deadlines just aren't real to me until I'm staring one in the face. Summer was over, and I still don't know what to do. I had no where to go to. The only option I had was Percy's or maybe Hades was not joking about inviting me back to the Underworld. Sighing I decided to just meet Luke before filling it for second opinions. The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. All the campers were in their cabins packing up, or running around with brooms and mops, getting ready for final inspection. Argus was helping some of the Aphrodite kids haul their Gucci suitcases and makeup kits over the hill, where the camp's shuttle bus would be waiting to take them to the airport. I was walking around looking for Luke. I jumped when I felt someone tap me from behind. I instinctively unsheathed my knife and turned only to see Luke with his hands raised.

"Whoa! Calm down just me." He laughed.

"Kinda weird seeing someone laugh at a knife pointed at them." I smirked sheathing my knife.

"I only laugh since its you." He smiled and ruffled my hair. "Are you done with everything?"

"Not really. I don't know whether to leave or not yet. That's why I came. Help me?" I asked him.

He turned to me and to the forest. "How about you hear me out about something... important and private... then decide?" He gestured towards the forest.

"Not planning on killing me are you?" I squinted at him.

He gasped. "Not you. Never. I would never hurt you."

I let him lead me to a shrouded area of the forest.

"How serious is this thing that you can't let anyone see? I am blindly trusting you here Luke." I laughed nervously. But when he didn't reply I felt something was off. "Luke, okay this isn't cool. How deep into the forest do we have to go?"

"Y/N remember when you said... You want to be the person I trust...? How you promised to help me?"

"Luke?" He took my hand and pulled me sharply. I winced at how hard he pulled me. "That hurts! Let me go!"

He snapped back and let go of my wrist. "I-I'm sorry... Y/N..."

As much as I knew I had to leave, I couldn't I was worried about him. I reluctantly placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's happening?"

"I did it..." I said and sat on the ground. "I swear I didn't mean to get you hurt. But, I confess to everything. I stole bolt and helm, I summoned the hound, I gave Percy the cursed shoes... And just now, I tried to kill Percy Jackson." He looked at me with empty eyes.

I shot up and looked at him in emotions I couldn't put in words. "W-Wh---" I wanted to leave and check on Percy. But once again, seeing him right now... I need to stay with him. "Why are you telling me this...?"

"Join me... please?" his voice was weak. He sounded vulnerable. "Let's serve my Lord together..."

"L-Luke... no. I-I can't do that!" I took his shoulder, "Y-You should stay with me instead. How about that, huh? L-Let's explain to Chiron and the others... come on please. I could help you!"

Nothing was working.

"Come with me..." He muttered.

"Luke, I won't join you. You have to change your mind. You can't do this."

"I can't change my mind."

"I can help you with that? How about you go with me huh? I could spend all my time doing this and that. Please, just change your mind."

He didn't reply for a while until he whispered, "Promise me."

"Promise you what?"

"You'll stay with me."

"What? Luke I wo--"

"You won't join... Just...don't stay here for the year... and stay with me."

"I-If I stay with you... what would that mean?"

"Yo-You... might change my mind."

"I'll go." I replied with no hesitation. "I'll leave camp for the year. And I'll find my parent to prove to you that Gods and Goddess aren't all bad. We'll find my parent together."

"I do my lord's bidding--"

"You can still do it. If you want to. But whatever happens... stays only between us. I'll stay with you until I change your mind. And I'll bring you back to camp."

"I would never do anything to ruin your trust in me." He knelt down. It was kinda awkward but hey... "I need you."

Worry not hero. We shall stay.

"Please..."

We'll meet again. Wait for us, we shall join you soon. Now leave.

I had no idea what happened since when I came to Luke was gone and there was no sign of him anywhere. How were we going to st---

We will meet him once we leave. Now go as our hero needs us.

I suddenly remembered Percy's state that Luke had told me about. So I ran. I ran to the Big House

***

Percy finally opened his eyes. He was propped up in bed in the sickroom of the Big House, his right hand bandaged like a club. Argus stood guard in the corner. Annabeth and I sat next to Percy, I was holding his nectar glass and she was dabbing a washcloth on his forehead.

"Here we are again," Percy said. "You idiot," Annabeth said, "You were green and turning gray when we found you. If it weren't for Chiron's healing..." "Now, now," Chiron's voice said. "Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit." He was sitting near the foot of the bed in human form. His lower half was magically compacted into the wheelchair, his upper half dressed in a coat and tie. He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale, the way it did when he'd been up all night grading Latin papers. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved." "Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened." Between sips of nectar, he told them the story.

I bit my lip trying to keep what happened between Luke and I private. It was a risky move that would not be approved by anyone after all. The room was quiet for a long time. "I can't believe that Luke..." Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him.... He was never the same after his quest."

Percy was looking at me as if checking what was my reaction to his story. "This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron murmured. "I will go at once." "Luke is out there right now," Percy said. "I have to go after him." Chiron shook his head. "No, Percy. The gods—" "Won't even talk about Kronos," Percy snapped. "Zeus declared the matter closed!" "Percy, I know this is hard. But you must not rush out for vengeance. You aren't ready." "Chiron... your prophecy from the Oracle... it was about Kronos, wasn't it? Was I in it? Y/N? And Annabeth?" Chiron glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Percy, it isn't my place—" "You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?" His eyes were sympathetic, but sad. "You will be a great hero, child. I will do my best to prepare you. But if I'm right about the path ahead of you..." Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows. "All right!" Chiron shouted. "Fine!" He sighed in frustration. "The gods have their reasons, Percy. Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing." "We can't just sit back and do nothing," He said. "We will not sit back," Chiron promised. "But you must be careful. Kronos wants you to come unraveled. He wants your life disrupted, your thoughts clouded with fear and anger. Do not give him what he wants. Train patiently. Your time will come." "Assuming I live that long." Chiron put his hand on Percy's ankle. "You'll have to trust me, Percy. You will live. But first you must decide your path for the coming year. I cannot tell you the right choice...." I got the feeling that he had a very definite opinion, and it was taking all his willpower not to advise me. "But you must decide whether to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, or return to the mortal world for seventh grade and be a summer camper. Think on that. When I get back from Olympus, you must tell me your decision." "I'll be back as soon as I can," Chiron promised. "Argus will watch over you." He glanced at Annabeth. "Oh, and, my dear... whenever you're ready, they're here." "Who's here?" Percy asked. Nobody answered. Chiron rolled himself out of the room. I heard the wheels of his chair clunk carefully down the front steps, two at a time. Annabeth studied the floor. "What's wrong?" Percy asked her. "Nothing. I ... just took your advice about something. You ... um ... need anything?" "Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside." "Percy, that isn't a good idea." Percy slid his legs out of bed. Annabeth and I caught him before he could crumple to the floor.

I said, "I told you ..." "I'm fine," He insisted.

He managed a step forward. Then another, still leaning heavily on me. Argus followed us outside, but he kept his distance. By the time we reached the porch, his face was beaded with sweat. But we had managed to make it all the way to the railing. It was dusk. The camp looked completely deserted. The cabins were dark and the volleyball pit silent. No canoes cut the surface of the lake. Beyond the woods and the strawberry fields, the Long Island Sound glittered in the last light of the sun. "What are you going to do?" Annabeth asked us. "I don't know." Percy replied. "I got the feeling Chiron wanted me to stay year-round, to put in more individual training time, but I'm not sure that's what I want. I also don't want to leave you both with Clarisse only." Annabeth pursed her lips, then said quietly, "I'm going home for the year, Percy." He stared at her. "You mean, to your dad's?" She pointed toward the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Next to Thalia's pine tree, at the very edge of the camp's magical boundaries, a family stood silhouetted—two little children, a woman, and a tall man with blond hair. They seemed to be waiting. The man was holding a backpack that looked like the one Annabeth had gotten from Waterland in Denver. "I wrote him a letter when we got back," Annabeth said. "Just like you suggested. I told him... I was sorry. I'd come home for the school year if he still wanted me. He wrote back immediately. We decided... we'd give it another try." "That took guts." She pursed her lips. "You won't try anything stupid during the school year, will you? At least ... not without sending me an Iris-message? Both of you?" Percy managed a smile. "I won't go looking for trouble. I usually don't have to."

"You already know my plans."

"When I get back next summer," she said, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?" "Sounds like a plan worthy of Athena."

She held out her hand. Percy shook it. She gave me a hug. "Take care, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth told Percy. "Keep your eyes open."

"You too, Wise Girl."

Then turned to me, "Good luck on your own quest Droopy."

"Of course Peabody." We watched her walk up the hill and join her family. She gave her father an awkward hug and looked back at the valley one last time. She touched Thalia's pine tree, then allowed herself to be lead over the crest and into the mortal world. "I made my decision." Percy said. "What's yours?"

"I'll be leaving camp... I'm going to look for my parent..." He looked at me in shock. "I'll be back next summer," I promised him. "I'll survive until then."

"Alone?"

I smiled at him.

"Don't you want to stay with us? Mom said---"

"I want to find my parent. I need to. I'll be fine Percy."

I helped Percy to his cabin so he could pack and went to mine. To my surprise I see a middle-aged man with an athletic figure slim and fit with salt-and-pepper hair, and a very familiar sly grin. He had bags at his foot.

"Delivery for Y/N L/N."

"Uhm..."

"Hermes." He said.

I froze and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Personally packed. As a thank you for what you're about to do." He smiled softly and handed me the bags.

"H-Huh...?"

"For helping Luke."

"I..."

Don't forget her mail!

Ooh! And tell her to bring us snacks next time we meet since it'll be often now!

No it wouldn't be often! She'll be with Luke!

"Both of you keep quiet." Pulling out a mail he handed it to me. "Luke... prayed to me telling me about your plan. He asked me to help you. I don't know what or why he did it. But I know he'll change thanks to you. So do guide him."

"Sorry you lost me at the talking air..." I blinked.

Hermes laughed and showed a caduceus. "It's just George and Martha."

"Hi?"

Hello!

"I just wanted to let you know. No god or goddess could see you. No matter how hard they tried. So your secrets.. are really secrets. Good luck on your travel."

Next time we meet you should have snacks.

Then he vanished.

Staring at the letter on my hand, I was stunned seeing it was from... my mom and dad.

Sweetie,

You've made quite a friend here.

-Mom and Dad.

I immediately knew where to look. I hurriedly took my bags not bothering to check the contents. I ran to Percy's cabin and helped him out so we could leave.

Percy got a cab and looked at me worriedly.

"I'll write you. Stay safe Arthur Curry." I ruffled his hair and watched him go.

I didn't know where to go so I just went to the first secluded area I saw.

"You have more stuffs than when you arrived." I heard someone behind me.

"You prayed to your dad. I hope he knows how to pack." I sighed turning to him. Turning around I barely made out Luke from the few days I last saw him. "You okay?"

"Do you know where to look first?"

Call upon our hound.

I whistled, I don't know why. But when I did, D/N came out of the blue. Luke looked at me and my dear dog, who was probably bigger than the hound he'd summon back then. "How do feel about L.A?" I said riding on D/N and making space behind me for Luke.

~~~END OF BOOK 1~~~

Previous | Book 1 Masterlist | Series Masterlist

END OF BOOK ONE!!! THANK YOU FOR READING YLATHB I HOPE YOU ENJOY!! I'LL PUBLISH BOOK 2 WHEN I'M DONE OR EVEN AT LEAST HAVE WRITTEN 5 CHAPTERS OF THE BOOK 2 ;))

I HOPE TO SEE YOU NEXT TIME!!!

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

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lip sync your way into my heart

( @thecomfortofoldstorries and I got into a fun head-cannon debate last night about Tik Tok POVs and this is what happened)

--- Jaskier has never really been in the loop when it comes to social media. He was behind the curve when he made his Tumblr and he was two years late to sign up for Twitter. It’s no surprise that he finally downloads Tik Tok and makes an account several months after it’s become a viral platform.

That also means all the good usernames are taken; Jaskier types in @buttercup-bard, sees that it’s available, and calls it a day. This isn’t an app he’s going to care about. It’s just to waste time during his forty minute commute to and from campus.

Alas, he has ADHD...and this shit is addictive.

Especially, he hates to admit, the thirst-trap hotties who do weird, obscure, edgy POV videos. Jaskier knows they’re aimed primarily towards teen and young adult women but he’s a red-blooded Redanian gay. He’s horny. He can watch a few POV Tik Toks on the bus and thirst after pretty boys with big muscles...as a treat.

By Jaskier’s second week of classes he’s found a definite favorite Tik-Tokker (is that what they’re called? Or is it influencer? Jaskier doesn’t care). The guy is gorgeous. He has beautiful honey-gold eyes and long, silvery-white hair; which is appropriate since his handle is @whitehairdontcare. He makes a wide range of content, too. Perfect for Jaskier’s Concerta-focused tastes. There are some dances here and there and some Q&A videos, but for the most part he does POVs.

Jask and his roommates, Essi and Priscilla, have spent many happy hours poring over Mr. White Hair’s account, watching and re-watching their favorites from his vast repertoire of content. Essi loves his weird, edgy-boi shit. Stuff with titles like “POV: I fight the bully who insulted your haircut” or “POV: you make a deal with the devil for true love”. Stuff that Jaskier would have been into when he still listened to My Chemical Romance on the regular (okay, he still does, but don’t tell Essie).

Priscilla is a huge fan of Tik Tok dances. She follows every challenge and ranks her favorites, compiling them into a YouTube series that’s more for her self-gratification than anything else. Mr. White Hair is generally towards the top of her list whenever he deigns to follow a trend that doesn’t involve badly applied makeup blood smears. The guy clearly works out and the definition of his body (and the movements of said really hot body) make the dances look so much more fluid and fun. Jaskier and Priscilla clearly share a brain-cell when it comes to appreciating Mr. White Hair’s hotness.

Jaskier’s favorites, of course, are the cute little POVs that lie scattered between all the edgy ones. Stuff made for the softies of Tik Tok. Stuff made for boys like Jaskier. “POV: I fix your car for you” is the one he’s probably re-watched the most. Mr. White Hair is lying on his back beneath a jacked-up blue car, oil smeared in a few strategic places on his face, chest, and arms. At the very end of the Tik Tok he moves the wrench out of the way of his face completely and winks directly into the camera.

Jaskier hates to admit it, even to himself, but no matter how many times he’s watched that stupid twenty-give second video, that wink drops his heart straight down into his shoes and fills his stomach with butterflies.

---

“Hey do you guys carry fake blood here?” an almost terrifyingly deep voice asks from behind him. Jaskier twirls around on his heel, Retail Smile firmly in place, and loses his shit the moment he sets eyes on his latest customer.

It’s Mr. White Hair.

Here. In the middle of the aisle of the Party City where Jaskier works every weekend. He’s either going to throw up or pass out or both.

He doesn’t though. Instead, the Demon Lord of Retail possesses his body momentarily and nods, “Right over this way!” He leads the insanely attractive influencer over to the year-round section of Halloween FX makeup and gestures towards the shelf filled with various fake blood capsules, bottles, and packets.

“Thanks,” Mr. White hair smiles. Jaskier nods again, silent, and drifts back towards the counter in a daze. He’s the only one on shift right now (it is not a very busy Party City) and he knows that he can’t pass out on the dirty tile floor or he’ll get fired (and perhaps tetanus). He just needs to power through the next few minutes and then he can crouch next to the helium tank and freak the fuck out.

But not until Mr. White Hair is gone.

Just as Jaskier is re-learning how to breathe normally, the sexy internet star makes his way towards the counter with an armful of products and the retail worker loses it again. Thank god for the ability to compartmentalize.

“So, just these for you?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem! I love your Tik Toks by the way,” Jaskier replies automatically. His eyes widen slightly. Why the fuck did I mention his Tik Toks!?

“Thanks,” the guy says and blushes. “I didn’t know they’d gotten so popular.”

“You have like two million followers?” Jaskier laughs. “I think that makes you pretty popular. Maybe even famous.”

“Oh yeah...right.”

“Anyway, your total is going to be twenty-one fifty.”

Mr. White Hair pays and Jaskier bags all his fake blood, wondering the whole time exactly what kind of content he can look forward to seeing. More of Essi’s edgy shit, apparently. As he’s handing the plastic bag over the counter, Jaskier smiles and works up the courage to ask, “Is your hair naturally white? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just really pretty.”

Geralt’s face goes slightly pinker than before and he nods. “Yeah. Weird genetic thing. Thanks.”

“No problem. Right on,” Jaskier beams. “Well, it was nice meeting a famous person. Thanks for stopping in.”

“Thanks for helping me out,” the Tik Tokker replies. Jaskier watches him exit the store before ripping his phone from his pocket and dialing Essi. He needs to talk to her before he spirals into a giddy panic attack.

---

“Hey Jask have you seen that hot guy’s latest Tik Tok?” Priscilla asks, lounging across her futon like a queen. Jaskier looks up from his copy of The Collective History of Aedirnian Funeral Dirges and wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion.

“No, why?”

“You should go check your phone. I think you’ll be happily surprised.”

“Oh-kay,” Jaskier says, drawing out the ‘kay’ for as long as it takes him to get up from his seat on the floor and exit the room. He retrieves his phone from the charger in the kitchen and returns to Priscilla’s bedside. He opens his new favorite app and pulls up @whitehairdontcare’s page. There’s a new POV from earlier this morning and Jaskier taps on it.

His eyes go round when he reads the caption: “POV: You’re the cute cashier at the Party City and I’m bad at flirting”.

Mr. White Hair is staring into the camera with those beautifully golden eyes, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand while he lip syncs to whatever song is playing. He’s wearing a tight, navy blue v-neck and Jaskier can see the movement of every one of his ridiculously defined muscles as they flex. The silver wolf’s-head necklace Mr. White Hair always wears around his neck is in its usual place, dangling down between those perfect collarbones…

Jaskier takes a shaky breath and glances up at his friends, who are staring back at him with wide eyes. “It could be about anyone.”

“How many Party Cities do you think he went to yesterday?”

“I’m not going to get my hopes up,” Jaskier snorts. “He’s a social media influencer and I am one semester away from finishing my degree and my thesis. Why would he ever want to be with someone like me?”

Essi rolls her eyes and Jaskier goes back to his homework.

---

Later that night, alone in his room, Jaskier plugs his earbuds into his phone and watches the Tik Tok over and over. He finds the song Geralt used and adds it to his Work Is Tough playlist, which he’s allowed to play over the loudspeakers at the store so long as he’s working a solo shift.

He watches Mr. White Hair’s plush pink lips move around the words and dreams of kissing them someday, as far-fetched as that scenario is (because this video is definitely not for him, that’s impossible):

“My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.

So won't you kill me, so I die happy.

My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury,

or wear as jewelry; whichever you prefer.”

Fucking Dashboard Confessional. Of course. One of Jaskier’s favorite bands from his emo days in middle school. If this really was for Jaskier, if this really was a legitimate attempt at online flirtation by Mr. White Hair himself, it was working.

Jaskier buries his head in his pillow and sighs.

#geraskier fic #geraskier tik tok au #there will be a part 2 i promise #geraskier fanfic #geraskier #geraskier au #all I do is make aus all day and work retail #geraskier fluff #flirty geralt #influencer geralt #party city employee jaskier #college student jaskier #geraskier college au #geraskier alternate universe #oops I keep making cute shit

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 1

Chapter: 1/12 Rating: T (for language) Content Warnings: Canon-typical Remus content. This chapter only: alcohol use Characters: All Pairings: Moceit, background Prinxiety, background Intrulogical (yes I played a little game of "pair the spares") Additional Tags: Hey it's the fic I published on Anon because I was embarrassed of how utterly pretentious it is!, post-PoF, sickfic, dirty poetry, humor interspersed with philosophy and Janus-typical pontification, this is VERY speculative and will get Jossed in the future lmao Summary: After claiming his place in the Light and coming face-to-face with the consequences of his actions, Janus finds himself unwillingly re-calibrating his moral compass. For selfish reasons, of course. But one apology snowballs into several, and soon he's running around the Mindscape with a low-grade fever and a guilty conscience as he desperately tries to regain some sense of self. Oh, and he's definitely not falling in love with Patton, so don't even bring it up. One Last Note: I wrote this in an ADHD fugue state. It is HEAVILY influenced by Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment, but there are also references to poetry and various other works of literature. I also deliberately used symbols, themes, and motifs. Most of them are pretty in your face except for the recurring ouroboros, which is used as a symbol of rebirth. ...Told you it was pretentious.

When you wake up to the promise of your dream world comin' true With one less friend to call on, was it someone that I knew? Away you will go sailing in a race among the ruins If you plan to face tomorrow, do it soon

Janus appeared in the Dark side of the Mindscape, elation swelling in his chest. Even the ringing headache and bitter taste in his mouth couldn't hollow the unfamiliar triumph that warmed him to the core. Caught up in his own thoughts, it took a moment for him to register the sight before him: Remus, upside-down on the couch, his brow furrowed and face an alarming shade of purple.

For a moment, Janus stood stock-still as he tried to get his bearings. He must have been more flustered than he'd realized-- He'd been aiming for his bedroom.

But here he was, staring down at Remus, who was definitely going to burst a blood vessel (or several) if he didn't flip over soon.

"That's not horrifying at all," Janus said, thinking it would be rude to dismiss Remus, especially since he had probably been eavesdropping. He had likely heard everything. Everything. Even the ugly parts.

"Do you remember when Thomas read that post about Nutty Putty Cave?" Remus asked in a strained, strangled voice. "That spelunker who died because he got stuck upside-down?"

"No," Janus said, before realizing his mistake. "Yes." He definitely wanted Remus to remind him of the gory details.

"That's what I thought," Remus said with a wicked grin.

Janus sighed through his nose. Remus, though he thrived on attention, seemed content enough to continue his experiment by himself. On the other hand, if Janus didn't bring up a certain insult he'd levied at Roman, Remus most certainly would, and at a time where it would cause the most upset and turmoil. Better for Janus to deal with it now, even if he would have to fight the tension pulling his muscles taut. He wanted to dance. He wanted to scream.

Hesitation proved to be Janus' downfall, and by the time he'd opened his mouth to broach the subject at hand, Remus had beaten him to the blow. "You're not usually this quiet, Oralboros. Snake got your tongue?"

Janus, again, sighed. Rather than answer, he doffed his hat, set it on the coffee table, and clumsily arranged himself upside-down next to Remus. The change in position immediately made his head throb. He ignored it. "I definitely meant it when I called you 'evil'."

Remus' eyes widened in faux-shock. "You called me evil ?" he shrieked, voice ringing out high and clear. "Me? How dare you. I'm an angel!"

At least Remus was taking it well. "Sarcasm is my thing," Janus said, realizing that he might make it out of this without having to properly apologize.

For some reason, Patton's face flashed into his mind, and a subsequent twinge of guilt made his tongue go sour. Fine. If there was ever a time to start telling uncomfortable truths… "But I am sorry I said that."

"Wow!" Remus laughed. "You must be upset." A red stain began to spill across his left eye. "You don't apologize."

"It’s not like I care about your feelings or anything." Janus would have liked to have drawn himself up to his full height, but it was impossible to do while upside-down. "As much as I'm enjoying watching your blood vessels slowly burst, would you please turn over before you hurt yourself? I've suffered enough psychological trauma for today."

"Oh, fine." Remus kicked his legs and landed neatly on his toes like a gymnast.

Janus, by contrast, got his arms tangled in his capelet and nearly folded himself in half before he found his balance again. "I meant to do that," he said, turning to grab his hat so Remus wouldn't see the blush on his face.

The sudden sensation of blood draining from his head made the room whirl. He steadied himself against Remus' shoulder until it slowed somewhat, but nothing could dampen the horrible ringing in his ears.

"Well," he said, adjusting his shirt. The sudden appearance of his conscience had taken the wind out of his sails more than he cared to admit, and all thoughts of dancing bled out of him along with a good deal of energy. "I'm not going to go scream into my pillows until I tire myself out."

"Being an agent of chaos is hard work," Remus said with a sage nod, "but that doesn't sound very relaxing, Mr Self Care."

"It's a form of meditation, if you think about it," Janus said.

Remus made a face. "You know I don't do that."

"...Meditate?"

"No, think."

"Ah. Well." Janus made only a token attempt to hide his fond smile. "Good night, Remus. Please stay up late and injure yourself."

"Can do, Snakeypoo.”

Janus turned. It was close enough, he might as well walk to his bedroom, especially considering how well his last attempt at appearing in it had gone.

The reason why that had been so difficult became apparent in mere moments. Janus froze in the hall and dropped to his knees at the giddy wave of horror and delight that made him too light-headed to stand.

He knelt in front of the empty stretch of wall where his door had been previously. Heat flooded his face.

"Jay?" The rounded toes of Remus' boots appeared in his line of sight. Janus zeroed in on them, the mud splatters and stains on the soft leather. "You have an aneurysm or what?"

Janus, unable to speak, motioned for Remus to turn around. He couldn't deal with this right now.

"Ohhh," said Remus. "Well. Good luck with that ." He hauled Janus to his feet. "So you're a boner fide good guy now, huh?"

Janus stared over Remus' shoulder at the empty stretch of wall where his door used to be. "That depends entirely on who you ask."

Remus shrugged and rose up on his toes. "You can scream into my pillows instead, if you want."

"As tempting as that is…" Janus trailed off, his eyes still fixed on the wall. It was tempting, despite the constant chaos in Remus' room. But he'd have to face the Light side sooner or later. It wasn't like he could move his room back, not without psychologically damaging Thomas and undoing all the work he'd done. "I'm really looking forward to getting insulted some more."

"Alright," Remus said with a shrug. "Try not to throw me under the bus this time, alright? Unless it's a real bus…" His gaze became dreamy, unfocused. "And it's doing 50 in a school zone and there's a whole pack of screaming kids in the crosswalk--"

"Goodbye, Remus." Janus turned and left.

The barrier between the "dark" and the "light" sides of Thomas' brain had been a joint venture. It would have been there in some form no matter what, but it was Janus and Roman (with Patton's tacit blessing) who had worked to put up something more physical between them.

Janus ducked under the red curtain, trepidation percolating in his stomach, but what he found on the other side was anticlimactic to say the least: It was dead silent on this side of the barrier.

Janus wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. He knew by now that the so-called "Lights" had issues working out their interpersonal issues, and this most recent conflict wasn't the kind of thing you just got over. It did follow that they would all go off to lick their wounds for a time.

Hesitantly, toe-to-heel, Janus crept down the hall. It felt for all the world like he was sneaking around a vast hotel, right down to needlessly ornate design on the plush carpeting. That was probably Roman's doing.

Janus focused, trying to call the Mindscape to work for him. He wanted to go to his room.

The Mindscape listened. Janus turned a corner and found a row of doors stretching down yet another brightly-lit corridor. His eye was immediately drawn, not to the brilliant yellow of his own door, but to the figure huddled in front of it: Patton sat with his arms wrapped around his legs, forehead resting on his knees.

"Looking for someone?" Janus asked, slightly louder than necessary.

Patton jerked his head up. "Oh! Janus!" He plastered an unconvincing smile on his face. "You sure pop star-tled me."

Scaring Patton hadn't brought Janus nearly the level of schadenfreude he'd thought it would. He crossed his arms over his chest, extending a third to help Patton up. "Take your time getting to the point.”

"Oh." Patton accepted Janus' proffered hand and got to his feet. Warmth spilled from him, permeating the fabric of Janus' glove and gently heating his palm. "Well, it's just…" He took a deep breath. "I noticed your door and I thought-- Well, I wanted to make you feel welcome!"

A high-pitched tone resonated in Janus' skull. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing at the mounting pressure-pain-exhaustion in his temples. "Aren't you just a saint ." Patton's face fell. Janus fought the urge to swear aloud. He usually had a better handle on himself, and he knew better than to alienate potential allies. "I mean, thank you, Patton. Truly. I appreciate it." Patton had proven himself useful. Janus should at least cultivate that relationship, even if it meant a little discomfort.

"Have you eaten?" Patton asked. "It's a little late, but I could make something if you wanted." He paused. "Maybe we could play cards or something." Another pause. "O-only if you want to, I mean."

Janus let his face remain impassive even as he internally cringed at the idea of staying awake for even another second. It would be so easy to brush Patton off with a few honeyed words and disappear beyond the barrier of his door. But Patton had stood up for him today, or at least he'd tried to. Janus sighed. Quid pro quo. "That sounds like an utter waste of time."

"Are you… I'm sorry, sometimes I can't tell when you're…"

"Yes, Patton. That sounds lovely."

Patton actually hopped in place, an adorable little jig that absolutely didn't send a confusing little shockwave of fondness through Janus' ribcage. "Really?"

"Really," Janus lied.

He followed Patton down the hall into the living room, which opened into the dining room and the kitchen. Janus studied his surroundings, trying to take in as much as his exhausted faculties would allow. Even in the absence of other Sides, the living room felt warm and welcoming. All the lights were on, and they bathed everything in gentle golden light .

"You're awfully quiet," Patton said.

Janus shook himself. "I was just getting my bearings."

"I guess you've never really been over here, huh?" Pattton opened the refrigerator. Was he actually going to cook , instead of just manifesting something? How quaint. "Do you like grilled cheese?"

It had been a long, confusing day. Doublespeak came to Janus as naturally as breathing, but he was obviously running circles around Patton even when he wasn't trying to. "Yes," he said, hoping to telegraph his sincerity by not emoting at all.

It seemed to work. Patton studied him for a moment before turning back to the fridge. "Then that's what I'll make."

Janus took advantage of this temporary distraction to clamber onto one of the barstools. The slick velvet of his capelet tended to disagree with surfaces like wood and vinyl, and he needed a moment to arrange things so he didn't look as unbalanced as he felt.

He watched Patton work in the kitchen, a detached coolness washing out the scene. Quid pro quo, he reminded himself when he felt his facade begin to slip. He owed Patton this.

He certainly didn't feel the slightest twinge of guilt, that he had been the one to orchestrate this breakdown. Yes, the Light Sides had loaded the gun, but in the end it was Janus who had pulled the trigger.

He shook his head and thought about playing cards, good Bicycle playing cards with holes punched through them like they'd come from a casino. "What should we play?" he asked, pulling the deck from his breast pocket.

Patton looked up from the stovetop, his eyes flicking to the cards in Janus' hand. "Do you know Kings in the Corners?"

"Not personally, no."

Patton laughed, but there was something cold about it. "It's really simple," he said. "I'll show you how to play and you can tell me if you like it."

It was nearly impossible to cheat at Kings in the Corners. Janus doubted this had been a calculated measure on Patton's part, doubted he had the capacity for that kind of foresight, but he respected it just the same.

They played in funereal silence, staring each other down across the light wood of the dining room table. Janus, ill-inclined to take off his gloves, utilized a napkin to keep from staining them with melted butter from the grilled cheese Patton had made. Neither one of them smiled. Neither one of them spoke.

Janus pulled a card from the deck to indicate the end of his turn and glanced up at Patton. His face was somber, almost sorrowful, and it clashed against the gentle domesticity of the dining room, with its floral table runner and mismatched placemats.

Janus started to laugh.

"What is it?" Patton asked, cheeks darkening. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Janus swallowed down another peal of laughter and cleared his throat, unable to wholly restrain the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You look like I’m holding you here at gunpoint." It was somewhat ironic, considering Janus was the one who felt like he couldn't leave.

"What?" Patton smiled, but it was more akin to an offering than an expression of joy.

"It’s not really funny. " Janus wasn’t quite sure how to make Patton understand.

Patton sat back with a sigh, placing his cards facedown on the table. "But I guess it is pretty funny, huh? In a really sad way."

Janus almost asked what was sad about it before realizing that Patton probably missed his friends. Instead he said, "Yes" and stifled a yawn behind his free hand.

"I'll make coffee!" Patton leapt to his feet and was off to the kitchen before Janus could so much as blink.

The newfound solitude made it that much harder for Janus to ignore his headache, which had only worsened in the hour or so he'd been playing cards with Patton. Despite the nonchalant facade he'd tried so hard to project, he'd been holding himself tense.

Maybe the night (or morning, at this point) would be easier to tolerate if he had, say, a bit of gold rum.

The corner of a flask dug into Janus' hip. He smiled.

"Just how late are you planning on staying up?" he asked Patton when the latter returned holding two mismatched mugs.

"Oh, I don't know," Patton said. Lied. He set a mug down in front of Janus and then resumed his seat, the cards forgotten by his elbow. "I'm… A little scared of what tomorrow will be like."

Janus eased the flask out of his pocket. "Rum?"

"Oh, um," Patton said, staring at the flask. "I don't know…"

Janus raised an eyebrow, working something out. He landed on it a millisecond later: Patton wanted to be convinced. Easy enough. Janus opened the flask and poured what he hoped was a shot into his own mug. It was black, he noticed, except for the yellow snake that wrapped around it, its tail firmly in its own mouth. Ouroboros. "Surely you don't intend to make me drink alone?"

As Janus had expected, Patton buckled the second he was pushed. "I guess not."

It was funny, Janus mused as he carefully tipped rum into Patton's coffee, how lying was only off-limits when Janus suggested it. Hilarious.

But now wasn't the time for bitterness, now was the time to repay the debt he owed Patton. "Cheers," he said, pocketing the flask once more.

"Cheers."

Janus sipped his coffee. "You put milk in this," he observed.

Patton's smile was surprisingly sly. "I know you want me to think you take it black. Virgil did too, at first. I know you ‘Dark Sides’ have an image you like to uphold."

"And how does Virgil take his coffee now?" Janus asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"With Snickers-flavored creamer."

"Well, I do take my coffee black," Janus lied.

Patton's smile never faltered. "We'll see, kid-- Uh, Janus."

"Patton," Janus said, before he could start thinking about the implications of Patton wanting to call him 'kiddo,' "you are planning on sleeping tonight, aren't you?"

"Maybe eventually," Patton said, suddenly unable to look Janus in the eye. "At some point."

"Tomorrow will come whether or not you sleep. It's definitely better to pull an all-nighter and feel like garbage instead of facing everything with a clear head."

"I know." Patton leaned forward so he could rest his head on his hand.

For a moment, Janus was tempted to mirror him. Sitting up straight was becoming quite the chore. "I know how the others love a calm, rational discussion."

"Oh, I wish." Patton's expression turned wistful.

Janus stifled a yawn behind his hand. He had half-expected the coffee to counteract the depressant effect of the alcohol, but all he had to show for the combination was a racing heart.

"I'll be fine out here if you want to go to bed," Patton said. Without seeming to realize he was doing it, he brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on his thumbnail.

It was a tempting offer. A day ago, Janus would have taken it. After all, it wasn't like he cared about Patton outside of professional courtesy. They weren't friends. But guilt nagged at him and wouldn't let him entertain the idea of abandoning Patton for longer than a second.

"That's a remarkable impression of a window," Janus said, waiting for Patton to look confused before elaborating, "I can see right through you."

"You got me." Patton smiled sadly. "That's something I've always admired about you, Janus."

Now it was Janus' turn to be confused. "What?"

"You're so… clever."

Janus narrowed his eyes. "Please do keep trying to change the subject."

"It's just… I don't want to have to lie there and, and think about today and everything I did wrong. I hurt Thomas. I hurt my friends." Patton's eyes were shiny behind his glasses; the unshed tears sparkled in the light when he locked eyes with Janus. "Aren't you going to think about the same thing?"

Anger flared, perhaps prematurely, in Janus' chest. "About what you did wrong today?"

"About what you did wrong," Patton said timidly.

"I," Janus said icily, "didn't do anything wrong." He stared Patton down across the table, jaw set, daring him to push back. Let him lecture and nag, let him prove that he hadn't changed no matter what he said.

But Patton only nodded, his face lined with misery. "Okay," he softly. "I think you're right, Janus. We should go to bed."

Janus thought about how much faster he could get to bed if the table was cleared, and all the dishes and cards vanished in a blink.

"Um, Janus?" Patton said.

"Yes?"

"I don't regret everything that happened today."

"Oh?"

Patton only nodded and sank out.

Janus made a beeline for his own room; better to find his way there on foot rather than risk appearing in the wrong spot.

Once inside, he looked around to ensure nothing was amiss, eyes roving over the dark wood of his bookshelves and desk, his mirrored closet doors, the leather armchairs across from his bed.

Everything was exactly as Janus had left it. He nodded, satisfied, set his hat on the nightstand, and sprawled out of top of the covers without bothering to further undress.

One hazy thought crawled to the surface of his mind before he fell asleep: At least he wouldn't be one of the regrets haunting Patton tonight.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #janus sanders #moceit #spicywrites soft-shoe shuffle #song featured is: race among the ruins - gordon lightfoot #pics are free to use from unsplash and wikimedia commons

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babysizedfics · 3 years

Note

Poor roman :( but that being said I am heka interested in 5

remus humiliates roman in front of jamal (but jamal is a sweetheart)

vote from this concept voting post!

TWs: swearing, emotional humiliation, arguing, remus is generally pretty mean in this - not "unsympathetic" but his behaviour is not ok, brief alcohol mention but it isnt a main feature

first some background info on remus and ro:

roman and remus' friend groups actually run parallel to each other by pure councidence in that theyre the same age and are both in the local queer scene

usually they only run into each other on nights out and avoid each other like the plague... until one of romans friends and one of remus' friends become a very serious couple and the friendship groups merge

remus tends to hang it over romans head whenever they argue or remus just feels like teasing him that he could so so easily spill romans secret littlespace to all his friends

and while roman claims to not care he also really doesnt want that to happen, especially the specific things remus threatens to reveal (namely him calling his cgs mommy and daddy, and his fear of the dark - which remus knows are romans biggest embarrassments)

and remus never USUALLY actually follows through on his threats, he loves to freak roman out but he doesnt mean to be intentionslly cruel.

but one night theyve had an argument recently and remus is out to hurt roman and finally follows through on his threat to reveal romans secrets. in front of jamal

((the actual incident below the cut))

all the friends are walking back from a night out, and remus hangs back from the group to talk to jamal. roman is just glaring at remus and not saying anything and holding jamals hand tightly. remus hasnt embarrassed him too bad so far, just asking jamal questions and referring to roman as his "baby brother" which is so annoying, but the thing is roman can tell hes building up to something

then suddenly remus smirks when he sees a completely pitch black side street thats theyre about to pass by, and he calls out to everyone "hey guys, there's a 24/7 mcdonalds through here and its a shortcut to the bus stop" and everyones like WOO mcdonalds and redirects to go down the side street

and romans heart pounds watching the friends all filter down the street without a second thought, theres no streetlights down there, theres light on the other side quite far away, but before that its SO DARK. and he freezes in place and jamal is tugged back by it and looks back at him. "babe, come on"

romans starting to feel shaky and he literally cant move his feet. his eyes flick between the street and remus' sadistic cocky smirk.

"whats wrong baby bro? you stuck or something?" remus leers with that stupid stupid smirk

and roman HATES him so so much

"ro, what's the matter?" jamal asks

"i- um," roman stutters, trying to keep his voice from shaking too much at the sight of his friends just having DISAPPEARED into the darkness - how are they okay with that?? "i- im not hungry"

"okay well i am, and remus said it was a shortcut anyway so-"

"i-i -- no i can't"

seraphina, romans best friend, looks back and notices whats happening and quickly jogs over (knowing roman is scared of the dark) "hey roma, it's okay we dont have to go down there" she soothes

jamal is supportive but he doesnt get it. he thinks roman is scared of criminals or smth. "i promise theres no one bad down there, hun. and i'll be right next to you the whole time, i'll protect you" and he smiles and tugs romans hand to pull him towards the side street

romans eyes quickly tear up and he panics and rambles "nononono dont please please i cant i cant" in a broken voice and plants his feet firmly on the ground, paralysed with fear

remus starts cackling "ohhhhh thats right~" as if he just remembered. "my baby brother's terrified of the dark, isn't he?"

"f*ck off, re" sera barks, standing between the twins, protective of roman

"wait, are you?" jamal asks sounding surprised. roman doesnt let himself look at him, too busy watching remus warily and knowing thats not all he has planned to embarrass roman

remus goes on, shouting out to jamal over sera's head "he's petrified!" he confirms sounding delighted. "yknow that massive blackout last summer? he cried like a baby. literally sobbing for his daddy patton to make it go away"

theres a brief silence because no, sera and jamal didnt expect remus to refer to patton as romans daddy - they both know roman calls him dad but this is a surprise.

and that one second of silence drags on for ages for roman, all he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears and remus' obnoxious laughter

he is shaking, frozen in shock rather than fear now. for all of remus' teasing threats at home, he didnt expect remus to actually do it. hes devastated and humiliated that remus told to his best friend and especially his BOYFRIEND of all ppl

and honestly he's not even thinking about the pitch black side street right now because the streetlights on the main road are blurred by tears welling in his eyes anyway

"why dont you just leave him alone!" sera hisses furiously after her mild shock

then jamal bounces back rlly stern to remus "yeah i already know about that! roman told me and it was HIS choice to tell me"

roman stares at him in disbelief but jamal is too busy staring daggers at remus to notice

remus looks suddenly offended and frowns. hes clearly hurt that the others dont think its funny "jeez youre both such bores. im just having some fun"

"youre demented if you think thats fun" seraphina growls and shoves remus away towards the sidestreet. remus rolls his eyes and runs ahead to join the others who are all oblivious to that coversation, howling with drunken laughter in the pitch black and jumping out and scaring each other

"f*cking prick" jamal calls after remus, seething

sera quickly throws a concerned look to roman "you okay?"

roman just swallows thickly and looks between seraphina and where he saw remus join the others in the pitch black. his stomach churns at the idea of remus telling more people. "i-is he gonna--"

"im on it" sera nods and starts turning around "i wont let him tell anyone else, roma, promise" then she runs ahead to keep an eye on remus and to give him and jamal some privacy

after a moment jamal turns back to roman looking so worried and holds his hands and asks very gently "babe, can you tell me how youre feeling?"

and roman is teary but he whispers "i - you stuck up for me"

jamal looks suddenly sad and cups romans cheek "of course i did"

"but you said i told you about it. i- i didnt tell you that i-" roman gulps after his voice wobbles "i didnt tell you about it"

and jamal smiles sadly and goes "i know babe... im sorry, i just didnt wanna give him any more power. it seemed like he's held that over you for a while"

suddenly the tears in romans eyes overspill and he doesnt really know why but he can't stop them

jama gasps a little "oh roman, its ok" and just pulls him into a tight hug

roman clings and sniffles, glad that he can hide his tears from his boyfriend even if it is in his neck.

and jamal just strokes his back and whispers "its ok baby, its ok" **

they talk about it quietly as they take the longer, well-lit route instead. roman admits he would never have told jamal abt his fear on his own - and the reason he's been avoiding staying overnight at jamals apartment is bc the one time he did he got so scared of the dark that he couldnt sleep and was just anxious all night but wouldnt wake jamal to tell him

after jamal finds out hes like baby why didnt u tell me its okay and comforts him about it not being embarrassing or childish. then:

"so you do actually want to stay at mine, its just because its so dark that you didnt?"

roman nods shyly "yeah... im sorry i know its a dumb fear i just-"

"its not dumb ro. i meant to say if it works for you, we could leave the hall light on and the door open. its not like i live with anyone who can walk in."

roman blinks "wait you - really? it wont make it hard for you to sleep?"

jamal smiles softly "no hun, honestly i could sleep anywhere. i fell asleep in the middle of the day in the staffroom just last month"

roman laughs, so so so relieved

"so... maybe next time you come over for dinner you could stay the night, yeah?" jamal says with a smile and a blush. he wraps his arm around romans waist and pulls him in, hip to hip

roman bites his lip and blushes. after a moment he suggests shyly "im free tonight..."

and jamal smiles so big, stops walking and puts his arm up to romans chest to stop him too then angles romans jaw down to kiss him

in the near future jamal promises to buy a plain nightlight and always leaves it on for roman when he stays overnight from then on

**side note: roman could never stand anyone calling him baby before because he felt infantilised at school becaus of his undiagnosed adhd. so he sees it as a derogatory name more than anything. but when jamal says it roman feels so warm and respected because he knows jamal would never mean it in that way. so jamal has "baby" rights basically

#swearing tw #little angst #long post #chaotic cousin remus #little/big concepts #asks #tumblebee the smol bean

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academiadaisies · 3 years

Text

my struggles with studying

I don’t expect a lot of people to read this, and I’ll probably end up embarrassed to have typed this all up and posted it by tomorrow, but I think it’s important for me to get this out and away from myself.

I appreciate anyone who reads this, and welcome completely anyone who is/has been in a similar situation to me and wants to talk about it or has some tips. I don’t have a lot of people to talk to about it, I definitely feel like anyone I’m close to will not be a lot of help, and I don’t want to be a mental burden, with them knowing my problem, wanting to help, but not knowing what to do, and blah blah blah... Just know, anyone is completely welcome to reach out to me. I know a lot of people say that online, but I’m just a little cancer moon, cancer rising ;). I’ve got ears and struggles too. Sometimes things are difficult. :)) <3

School has always been my demise. I was basically a corpse just going class to class, making little contribution and writing down what the powerpoint said. I would zone out - not realising at all, come back to myself and suddenly the whole class was doing work, and I would have to swallow my pride, interrupt the person next to me and ask what we were supposed to do.

But my nights were wasted too. I guess I was never really taught to study, and everything I had tried for myself never seemed to work. But I didn’t try often. I remember coming home and turning on my computer to watch the next episodes of my show of the week, my mind in a dull and empty buzz, and next thing I knew it was midnight.

Growing up there was no schedule or routine. No one was really checking I had done my homework, no one checking I was showered or that I had brushed hair. There were no rules either. No specific screen time, no food rules, no bedtime. I know why, my mum was a very hard worker, having a daughter, a job, and university, and I am so grateful for her. She was busy. But it just meant I never knew much discipline. There was no structure, but I wasn’t forgotten. There was no food in the house, but there was money, and I - having no sense of diet - would spend more than was good for me on junk; a six pack of crisps a day, frozen pizza... and today that has never ended, it’s something of an addiction now. The lack of restraint and discipline is apparent everywhere in my life.

In school is where it is at it’s absolute worst. It’s not even an issue of my intelligence. The absolute last thing I want to come across as is conceited, but I did better than I deserved my first two years of high school exams having never studied for them, except maybe a bit of rereading and desperate attempts to memorise the night before. I passed everything, bar one, and sometimes with A’s.

But last year was inarguably my worst year ever, and it has bled into this year too. My attendance was below 50%, I came in maybe two or three days a week, sometimes only finally getting the motivation to show up in the afternoon, and even then I would hide away in pupil support classes, still not doing any work. My mum phoning me and screaming down the line as soon as she got the absent text. Me not knowing how to explain that I just couldn’t physically force myself to get up and ready. I started with 5 subjects and finished with 2, both of which I initially failed, but those grades were redacted because people argued the SQA were not grading fairly, basing grades on location instead of merit, and so I scraped by with two C’s. I absolutely would not have passed if not for the pandemic.

This year is hard to tell where I would be in a normal situation. I like to believe it was going to be so much better. The idea of leaving high school and entering college*. It was a fresh start. I was supposed to get my work done the day it was handed out, I was supposed to be more extroverted, and become a leader like I always wanted. But, of course, it’s all online. I think a major benefit of it is I don’t have much excuse not to be in class anymore. I can (and usually do) wake up minutes before the class starts, and do it all from bed, so if I was left to my own devices to get myself there and back, I’d bet my attendance has skyrocketed from what I it would have been. Though, my college is quite far, and I think my mum seeing to that I was on a bus, or even not in the house when she has to leave, would have been enough to ensure I was there too. If it was in person I would have no where to hide too. I wouldn’t get to have my camera off and play games during classes and not take notes, the lecturers would see. I’d have to take notes and I don’t usually do that. I wish I had. But then that just begs the question of would it be a repeat of high school? Would I be a corpse that goes through college classes blankly instead of high school ones? I really don’t know what to think. But today my college work is suffering. I have seven vital pieces of work long overdue, and I think the weight of all of them on my brain stops me from doing even one.

*If you’re not familiar with the system here, college is basically a stage after high school but below university in Scotland, that not everybody goes to. I’m not sure the school systems everywhere in the world but it’s not the equivalent of sixth form college in England, or what’s called college in the US, which would be university here. I’m sorry if this sounds dumb because there’s probably this everywhere in the world but I just want to clarify what stage I’m at exactly. I’m taking a HNC which is kind of the equivalent of first year university.

And so it leads me to believe I have ADD/ADHD. I really am not about to self diagnose. Although it might be enough for some, I often worry I’m a bit of a paranoid person, and that I like to jump to the most “extreme” conclusions, but I don’t think my livelihood makes it totally unlikely.

I find myself devoting my time and what motivation I have to things that just don’t matter. I’ve memorised maps of the US, Europe, Scotland and Ireland. I took up interests in religion and astrology, buying crystals as if they were coming to save me like all the TikToks say. I’ve taught myself bits of piano, British Sign Language, chess, Teeline shorthand and Morse code, just to give up. I even made it to 100 days on Duolingo learning Scottish Gaelic before I stopped that too. Engrossed in wide varieties of things that I’d love to be great at, abandoning it because I’ve decided I’m bored.

But the worst waste of my time is always spent on my phone. I am a huge advocate for downtime, not every single second has to be productive. But it’s never good to have a 12 hour daily screen time average.

I can never concentrate either. I can’t force myself to. As I write this I have an essay due I’ve had for a month, and I’m going to have to do it all tomorrow. I don’t understand why I can’t physically force myself to get it done. I always think, “why am I on TikTok when I have an essay due?” And I never really have a reason. Even my driving instructor told me to get tested because, especially nearing the end of the lessons, my attention starts to waver, and I find her having to change gears for me sometimes, and warning me to stop looking at whatever might pass by.

I have a little list of priorities in my mind too. I keep reminding myself that I have this essay and this assignment to do, but I also have ideas of starting a blog or reading a book. The school work is first in the list of priorities, I know it needs to be done first and so I take it to the extreme and can’t seem to do anything meaningful at all until it’s gone. Of course, it never is gone, I never do it, and I find myself scrolling social medias all day, a perfectly anodyne time waster. No substance and no thoughts.

But I’m a perfectionist too, with very little confidence. I can tell part of me puts it off because it needs to be as good as it possibly can be, and another part tells me I’ll start it later, I’ll feel better about it later. I have big ideas, that if only I could force myself to do, would be great, but the idea of it not being good enough only puts me off. I’d not do the work until it’s at the point where the excuse is “it’s only bad because I didn’t give myself enough time to do it,” because of the fear of the possibility “it’s bad because I’m bad at it.”

Part of my inability to really do anything I think also had to do with depression. ADD/ADHD makes my life chaos. My room is a mess, there is no organisation or structure in my day, there is no motivation to fix it, no understanding of how to fix it. I’m a very intuitive person, because I have to be. Any decision I make is unknown to me until it’s happening really. I can’t plan when I’m starting work, sometimes I just have to hope I get the motivation to open my laptop. I think depression feeds off the ADD/ADHD symptoms. My room is messy because I can’t be organised, then my mindset worsens because I have such a terrible, unlivable space with no motivation to do anything about it, and it just stays that way. I can’t concentrate long enough to do work, then my mindset worsens because it means I have work overdue, that will have bad consequences, people disappointed in me, and etc, etc. I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m articulating myself well here. I’m intuitive in decisions but I’m also an overthinker. Or maybe just more of a worrier. I don’t do the work and so, every time my phone pings I jump and check cautiously because I fear it’s my lecturer messaging me that I’m off the course. The depression really took a terrible toll on my life. I won’t get too into it but I can hardly talk to friends, find the motivation to shower, or even go outside. All I find myself doing is lying in bed staring at a screen. I don’t know what else I can really do about it.

And the worst part is, in my mind, I have myself convinced that it’s not even that bad. That it’ll be okay tomorrow, I’ll change tomorrow, as if I’m not long past the point of this just being a little off day.

But one thing I do I know is a symptom of ADD/ADHD, which consumes my whole mind, is my hyperfixation. I won’t go too deep but basically for just over a year it’s been an honestly unsubstantial book I read. Loved by many, but nothing special, in comparison. I’ve only read it maybe twice all the way through but it never leaves my mind. I relish in any and all fan works, stalking the ao3 works, refreshing the tumblr tag. I can just stand and jump and pace, while listening to one song on repeat, thinking about the characters in all kinds of scenarios for hours on end. I can imagine the main character as me in everything I do; as I pick up a book from my bookshelf, as I walk my dog, as I lay down at night. I constantly compare myself to him too, feeling bad that I’m not as similar or good. I hate it. I don’t know if I even like the book anymore, I don’t think it’s possible to tell, I’m just obsessed with it.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it really. The NHS don’t diagnose ADHD in adults, and I’m only 18. I’ve been this way my whole life but no one ever paid much attention to it. When I told my mum I think I have depression, she laughed at me, then got really angry, saying I’m not depressed just lazy, before buying me flowers and telling me she was worried I was going to hurt myself. Now I feel like I can’t speak about anything serious like this rationally because she looks for every reason that there is no problem, and if there is it’s the worst possible case, and “oh I’ve been a terrible mum.”

I don’t understand my problem. I have big dreams and goals for my life, I know what I am doing now will never get me anywhere but still that knowledge is not enough to get me to do what I need to. I’ve even written this post over eight days, for all the distractions and lack of motivation I’ve had to finish it. It’s a never ending cycle, but I really hope having this out there now will spark something in me. I’m sure this will make someone feel better about their situation now too, and that’s totally okay! If it can help someone, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I’m sorry I probably brought up a lot of completely irrelevant stuff, and went into tangents at times, but I just wanted to stress how it all plays into each other. They’re all connected, which brings a lack of motivation and discipline to my life and my work. I just want to let it all go.

Again, I really don’t think many people will read this but anyone is completely welcome to message. If anyone has some tips for people who can just never concentrate, or also anyone who is in social sciencey type courses (psychology, sociology, politics esp) and has some tips for doing that too I’d be so grateful. :) <3 (also this is a repost because I tried posting last night but it wouldn’t go to the tag, hope it works this time)

#studyblr #study #studying #student

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edelwoodsouls · 4 years

Text

all roads lead - ch. 8

When his mother dies, Stiles runs away, straight into danger - only to be saved by Peter Hale. Seven years later, after burying their alpha, Stiles and Malia return home.

Word Count: 3,212 | Also on Ao3 | Other Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,

Chapter 8: PACK

They end up at the ice-cream shop.

Whilst its outside is nothing but peeling paint and a flickering neon sign that now only reads ' C R AM', the inside is a hidden gem of smooth pastel surfaces and large booths, paired with upbeat 80s music and the heady scent of melted chocolate and burnt sugar.

Going in, Stiles knew he was about to be submerged in enemy territory. Still, walking in to the scent of wolves heavy in the air brings back memories of the supernatural cafes and bars in New York, of the stink that had surrounded Peter when he came back from alpha meetings. He has the sudden urge to scrub his skin raw or spray perfume; he shifts closer to Malia.

The booth by the window is filled with what Stiles assumes is Scott's entire pack. There's Isaac, beside a girl with dark hair that Stiles recognises - Allison, who lives in his old house, who of course is connected to all of this, because everything in this fucking town is.

He can't help but frown at how close she sits with everyone, how easily she laughs with them, despite the stink of wolfsbane and iron that clings to her. They don't even seem bothered by it. Stiles has seen packs with humans in them before. But hunters?

The thought flees quickly as he notices the last two of the group. A girl with straight brown hair and an etched frown, and an older guy - maybe twenty-five. Both with Peter's jawline and bright blue eyes.

Stiles forgets how to breathe. Scott is talking, the others sliding into their seats, but the world is ringing, tunneled upon these two, so achingly strange yet familiar.

"Stiles?" The sound rushes back to the scene, and he looks down to see Scott has put a hand on his arm. He sees the tell-tale snake of black veins disappearing quickly up the other alpha's sleeve, so fast he could have imagined it. "You okay?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry. It's been a long day. What were you saying?"

"I was just introducing everyone."

"Cool, cool," Stiles slides into the booth at the edge beside Malia, facing Scott. His beta leans against him, her shock a far less visible force, but just as shaking.

Scott introduces everyone. Allison gives them a grin that is so sweet it almost hides the sharp edge behind it. Stiles barely registers that her surname is Argent, that he should probably be panicking at the fact that he has her family's blood clinging to his hands, but the information settles somewhere in the back of his mind for later, far less important than his current panic attack.

"And this is Derek," Scott says, confirming what Stiles is already acutely aware of. "And Cora. Hale."

Derek, for his part, appears distant. His mouth is permanently curled down, his eyes staring at a point on the wall opposite. He nods noncommittally in their direction. The table goes uneasily silent for a moment, and Stiles feels he must be missing some important context to this scene.

"Nice to meet you, I guess," the girl says, tone as biting as Stiles would expect-

What had Scott said? Cora Hale. Cora Hale, not Laura. Cora, who was listed as one of the casualties of the fire. Who had been in their year at school until she had vanished that night in a puff of smoke and flame.

"Guys," Scott breaks the silence, "this is Stiles Stilinski, and Malia Tate. They just got back into town and are living with me and Isaac."

Everyone leans in with interest at that. There's a question in their eyes he knows he's not supposed to see, a less-than-subtle shake of the head from Scott. No, this silent conversation says, they're human. Not a threat.

Not pack.

Thankfully, Stiles is saved from trying to bridge a conversation by the arrival of the waitress. Money isn't an issue for him or Malia, not with the exorbitant funds Peter left behind. Between the stress of the day and the ADHD in the back of his brain screaming for sugar, Stiles goes absolutely ham, and even Malia orders a few waffle cones without the ice cream- she still hasn't gotten used to being cold without her fur, let alone inflicting it upon herself on purpose.

He watches the other pack, feeling more than ever like a wolf in sheep's clothing. He can't help but study them as an enemy - just in case, he tells himself, ignoring the rational part of his brain that accuses him of paranoia. It's not paranoia if someone's out to get you, and Stiles is sure that between the mess they left behind in New York, and the mess they've discovered here in Beacon Hills, it's only a matter of time.

Eventually the blood will find them.

But for all he knows of the current situation, this pack does not seem like one in crisis. They laugh easily with each other. They lean towards each other, towards Scott, as if he is the sun, and they are just planets orbiting around him. Allison and Isaac trade comebacks across the table. Lydia inputs with sniping comments and imperious facts, switching it up with forceful compliments so genuine that the whiplash makes his head spin. Even Derek manages the occasional deadpan remark, and Cora tries, too, though she looks as awkward as Stiles feels - a new addition to the pack, he assumes.

He wouldn't guess, watching this family through the window of an ice-cream shop, that so much death and blood hangs over their heads.

Of course the peace can't last long. The conversation turns to him and Malia like an inevitable landslide Stiles can only watch rushing towards him. He feels how out of place they are in this scene, how Lydia in particular watches him as if she can see the death that weighs down his shoulders.

"So where did you say you spent the last seven years?" she asks, as if the question has been building momentum on her tongue all this time.

Uneasy, intensely curious silence drops like a weight over the table. Scott shoots nervous glances between the two of them, but everyone else watches with a hunger Stiles feels devouring him from afar.

"New York," he says, allowing a confident smile to settle on his features, as if this is all he needs to say. He has a suspicion that Lydia has conversations like chess matches, and tipping his hand with nerves is something he cannot afford.

"How'd you end up in New York?"

"I got a bus, how else would you get there?"

Lydia's eyes narrow. "Why did you end up there?"

"Getting lost in a city is easier than a town like this."

"So you left of your own accord."

"I didn't say that, and I don't think it's any of your business."

"How come you're back now, then?"

"Circumstances changed. There was nothing keeping us there anymore."

"You said you were here to pay your debts," Allison chimes in, pointing at him accusatorially with her ice-cream spoon. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Stiles curses silently, taking a moment to weigh his options. "I owe my dad for not being here," he says slowly. "I owe Scott for not being here. Whether it was my choice or not. Me and Malia just want a chance to live a normal life. To finish high school. To leave the past in the past where it belongs and where it should die. If that's okay with you?"

He spits the last question at the table, satisfied when he sees the ripple of uncomfortable guilt across their faces. Lydia's eyes remain narrowed, but he feels the tension ease somewhat. After all, for all intents and purposes he's just declared his allegiance to their pack - to Scott. That's really what this conversation is about, all other curiosities aside. Are you a threat to our alpha? Are you planning to hurt him more than you already have?

"Personally I fucking hate school," Malia says, crunching down on a waffle cone and snapping the remaining tension in an instant. "Stiles is the real nerd here. I just highlight everything in the textbook and hope for the best."

"You can just borrow my notes," Lydia sighs. "Everyone else does."

Malia grins at her, though Stiles can see the moment her thoughts wander back to Kira, to their study sessions together, and the enthusiasm turns sour.

"Maybe we could help you guys prepare for the aptitude test?" Scott asks. "Lydia's a certified genius, and I'm only failing French at the moment."

Stiles manages a smile. "I'd like that."

~~~

"Can't sleep?"

Stiles is sat on the roof that evening, staring up at the nearly full moon. It always pulls at him like this as it grows - he used to sleepwalk in the early days. Now, keeping his wolf under lock and key so often, he finds the urge, the gravity tugging him out into open sky, irresistible.

He nods silently, and Scott pulls himself up onto the roof to sit beside him. For a moment, they simply stare at the moon, transfixed.

"Nervous about going back to school?"

Stiles snorts. "School is the least of my concerns."

"I feel that," Scott nods. His voice is so heavy, so tired, that Stiles looks up immediately to examine the other alpha's face. In the moonlight, the sunshine that usuallt radiates from him seems diminished. There are deep purple bruises beneath his eyes. His shoulders slouch as if they hold the weight of worlds upon them.

For all that Stiles avoided questions during the day, now he finds his own bubbling up inside him. "What..." his voice hitches unexpectedly. "What happened when I was gone?"

Scott's heavy expression turns guarded for a second, before dropping, as if those walls are unnatural to erect, their weight too much to bear on top of everything else. He really is just a naturally open book, all too genuine.

"A lot, Stiles."

"Tell me." He knows anything he learns now will be a filtered truth filled with holes, but he wants desperately to know that he didn't ruin this boy's life by leaving. That the blood of another future isn't on his hands.

"You... you left. Theo left not much after."

"I was wandering where that guy got to."

"His sister died in the preserve; his family moved to start fresh, I think."

No death in the preserve comes without a half dozen red strings attached to it. Stiles files this information away for later.

"Your dad... Stiles, it was bad. Really bad. He got suspended from work. He went to rehab. Relapsed. Got put in the cells a couple times to sober up. Everyone tried to help him, but..."

"He'd lost everything," Stiles whispers. He doesn't want to hear this, the confirmation of his worst fears about his father. All of this is his fault.

"If you- if you ran away, Stiles, I wouldn't blame you. Your dad at his worst, he wasn't a great guy to be around. I can imagine how scary that must have been. I just wish you'd told me what it was like. I could've helped. You could've stayed with me. You didn't have to leave."

Stiles says nothing. Scott's hand inches towards his as if he wants to rest it on his arm like he often does with Isaac, to give that tactile support that pack relies on, but it falls short, resting unsure on the roof tiles.

"Anyway, my mom kinda staged an intervention, along with the old sheriff, and a couple of the deputies from work. She has experience with, y'know, after my dad. I don't really know what happened, but somehow he got back on his feet. Started going to AA meetings. Got promoted to sheriff. Started dating my mom. They've been married a year now. It was a really nice ceremony, actually. Low-key. You would've hated it."

Stiles lets out a soft laugh. "They seem good together."

"Mm," Scott replies, his mind a thousand miles away.

"Can't help but notice you're avoiding talking about yourself, though, Scotty."

"Says the guy."

"Touche."

They lapse into silence. Scott's heartbeat is steady but his scent is awash with a mixture of melancholy and regret that Stiles is intimately familiar with.

"You seem to be doing well, now, at least," Stiles says eventually, as the energy pent up in the quiet begins to itch at his skin.

Scott sighs and nods, both gestures at odds with each other. "Isaac and I became friends a bit after you and Theo left. Both the kids with no friends, y'know?" Stiles cringes. "He moved in in the spring after his dad died. And Allison moved here in January. She became friends with Lydia, who became friends with us."

The information in this story is so sparse Stiles can feel the tidal wave of details slipping in between. But how can he ask for more? How can he ask how did you become a werewolf and who did you kill to become an alpha and how long has it been, how are you so good at it, what am I doing so wrong?

"Derek and Cora aren't usually as rude as today. Well, they are - I think being a dick runs in their genes. But their sister was killed a couple weeks ago - animal attack - and it kinda fucked them up a lot. She was a really great- person."

A really great alpha, Stiles thinks, as another of the puzzle piece slots into place. He feels an unexpected pang at the thought that he will never meet Peter's older niece. He wanted to see what made the Hale pack so special. He wanted to look that woman in the eyes and ask her how she could sleep at night knowing she abandoned her pack.

"A lot of death in this town," Stiles notes as nonchalantly as he can. "Animal attacks. And my dad mentioned something about a serial killer. That's insane, man."

"It's a lot, yeah," Scott says, that heaviness returning to his shoulders like Atlas reclaiming the sky. "There was this guy. He fucked us all up in a lot of ways. But he's gone now, and somehow I think we're all better for it? I mean, we've been through so much shit. I've seen my own blood on my hands more times than I can count in the last year. But without him, I never would've become who I am. Never would've become friends with Lydia, or Derek and Cora, or..."

The names of ghosts linger on Scott's tongue before vanishing like smoke.

"Sounds like some guy," Stiles laughs, all-too aware that Scott has told him more than he probably should have. These are not the official stories, the normal stories of a teenager. And yet he doesn't seem surprised that Stiles isn't horrified.

"That's certainly one way to describe Peter."

Stiles' world shivers to a stop; shatters into a thousand diamonds all reflecting the stillness of this night, this moon.

"Peter?" he manages to choke out. His heart, he knows, is racing too fast, betraying his racing thoughts, but the world is turning to ice and dust before his eyes, and he can't bring himself to care.

"Peter Hale," Scott says slowly, eyes narrowed towards Stiles in concern. "He's Derek and Cora's uncle, but they're nothing like him. He came back to town to settle some old score with his family and got a bunch of us tangled up in the process."

There had been two months, at the beginning of the year, when Peter had vanished. Business trip, he'd claimed, as if he had a consistent job and didn't simply pull cash out of his family's obscene inheritance.

Stiles' curiosity had burned, but he'd been too busy nursing Malia back to health from the gaping hole in her head, the screaming nightmares she had to claw her way from drowning in, to care about much else.

The Peter who returned had been so quiet. His temper shorter, his remarks snider and crueler. Reckless. It had taken months for the tension, the weight, to ease from his body, and by that time the three of them had found themselves hunted for sport and chained up in their own apartment. The beginning of the end.

"Sounds rough," Stiles manages a half-strangled laugh.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just-" The night has become cold enough to freeze his skin, and yet he feels heat rising like a fever in his chest. His thoughts are too fast, his lungs too small to contain the world. The moon above is little more than a haze of silver, glaring down at him in judgement. "Today's been a lot, I think. Seeing everything I've missed, everything that happened because I left-"

"Nothing is your fault, Stiles-"

"You don't know that, Scott. You don't know what might have been different." You don't know what I've done. That everything you've suffered might have been because of me. "And I'll have to live with that every day."

"You're back now," Scott says, a fierceness in his voice Stiles hasn't seen before. The other alpha finally reaches up and places his hand on Stiles' shoulder, the skin-on-skin contact like electricity grounding him to earth. "And I don't care about the past. You wanted a new start, this is it. Here, with us. You just have to let us in."

"I want that more than anything. I just... how do you ever stop looking over your shoulder? How, after all the blood you've seen, how are you so happy?"

Scott purses his lips, thinking about it. His eyes leave Stiles and find the moon above them. This thing they share, that tethers them together more than any past or rivalry might. They are both wolves in love with the stars.

"I'm not happy," Scott says quietly. "Some days the world feels so heavy I can barely stand. You should have seen me earlier this year, I was a total mess. But I put a lot of work in over the summer. I take every day as a new start. I talk to people when I can't carry the load alone. It helps, to have someone to share with. I'm sure you know that from Malia."

"I don't know if I have the energy for that work," Stiles admits. He refuses to acknowledge the burn of tears beginning in his eyes.

"So take it one day at a time. School. Social life. Life, in general. Each step is a good one, even if sometimes you feel like you're sliding backwards. It's all a journey, and it can't always be a race. Sometimes you just gotta rest."

"Wow. You should write a self-help book, Scotty, that's some motivational shit."

"I try."

They lapse into silence, staring at the sky, and somehow Stiles finds his head resting on Scott's shoulder. He hasn't been this physically close with anyone except pack, isn't sure how to feel, how to reconcile how his heart aches for touch and his skin crawls at the thought of it.

His wolf whines silently inside him at how good it feels, and how wrong it should.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #malia tate #scott mccall #fanfiction #lydia martin #own work

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the-a-word-2214 · 4 years

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☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹

Spikes and Purple Hair

Warnings: Language

616 words

Chapter 5

Lust's band members

Tiffany Rogers: Bass

Veruca Jones: Lead Guitar

Steven Williams: Drums

Sebastian Johnson: Vocals and Rhythm Guitar

During their tour, Veruca calls James when they're answering fan's questions in Long Island one morning in '86. She surprises him by joining Metallica on their tour with Ozzie. Lust performs with them.

The Metallica tour bus came into view as it pulled up to the CMJ radio station. They were currently on their Master of Puppets tour with Ozzy Osbourne and they were having a blast so far. The crowds were always loud as fuck and they usually welcomed them with open arms. They were now going to talk with some fans and discuss how the tour was going for them. The only problem was that it was cold outside and it was really fucking early, like, 7:00 am early. The boys were not prepared for the day's events until they had had their beer. Nothing like a little day drinking to get the day started. Once inside, the band settles themselves into the four chairs that they had set up around four phones. Once the calls trickled in, they didn't stop for a handful of hours. As the day began to wind down, a familiar voice sounded on the other end of James's phone. "Hey, baby! How're you doing?"

It was Veruca, she was calling the radio station. A small smile appeared on his face as he listened to her voice. "I'm good, what're you doing calling the radio station? I didn't know that you were on Long Island." She giggles and can't keep in the secret any longer. "Look outside." He does as she says and finds Lust's tour bus outside the station. "Holy shit, no way! What're you doing here?!" He exclaims as she walks into the studio. The rest of the boys cheer and whistle as they share a passionate kiss. "Well...Lust is going on tour with you guys." Now it was the boys' turn to stare at her in disbelief. "Fockin' Ozzy doesn't tell us shit!" Lars exclaims as he takes a swig of his beer.

The rest of the morning was spent answering fans burning questions. The occasional groupie would attempt to chat up Lars or Kirk considering how baby faced they were. Veruca sat in James's lap while he finished up the rest of his calls. It was nerve-wracking for him because he was always super anxious and had trouble talking to strangers. They had the afternoon to themselves though, so they decided to crash at the hotel for a little bit. Their designated rooms would be trashed in no time, of course.

Lust was staying just a few rooms down from the boys while Veruca decided to room with James. They hadn't had a quiet moment together in months so the tension was ever-growing as their tour buses pulled up the hotel. The young couple's fingers were intertwined as the exited the stuffy bus. The testosterone was almost unbearable for the young musician, but she managed. With Lars' ADHD-self and Kirk's shenanigans, it was a wonder that they didn't make sex jokes 24/7. Once inside the pristine building, the band threw down their bags and bid adieu to each other, the quiet set in. The rest of the rooms were booming with excitement except for the couple. They were happily staring at each other, dopey smiles on their faces. "You know...I think you've really got me fucked. I'm so tightly wound around your finger that you'll never let me go." The singer admits in a hushed tone. His girlfriend smiles and pecks his nose. "You're stuck with me, Hetfield."

They were in for one hell of a night...

☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹

#james hetfield x oc #james hetfield #metallica x oc #metal oc #80s metal #metallica #thrash metal #metalhead

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oskarwing · 4 years

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TUA Percy Jackson AU

Just me having the need to combine Fandoms. These are just my very chaotic thoughts in no order. Also I might write a fic to this one day...

Note: Even though I don’t mention it for everyone specifically just where it seems to fit because this post will be really long already they all have ADHD and dyslexia because that comes with being a demigod in the Percy Jackson universe.

Luther and Five were the first of the seven to come to Camp Half Blood Hill. They are children of Hephaestus and a male engineer.

Luther spend his earlier childhood trying to impress his human father by working hard in school and trying to get as good as him but the human Dad never quiet came over suddenly having to take care of two children that suddenly showed up in front of his door with a note from the dude he had dated for a while saying that those were their biological children.

At eight years old Five decided to run away and Luther couldn’t let him go alone.

Luther has their godly father’s craftsmanship talents which he mostly uses to build his model spaceships and sometimes trying to make more functional ones he also gets pretty good at sculpturing.

Five is good at building things too of course but he’s also one of the children of Hephaestus who have pyrokinesis-powers (I know that is super rare but ssshhhhh)

While they were running away from monsters Five lost control of his fire and he accidentally burned Luther who will always have scars from this and also restricted movement in his left hand (he is still good with building but it takes him a lot longer and he sometimes needs to ask Five for help)

While he was recovering he dreamed about Hephaestus and his father showed him his deformities and tried to make it easier for his son (I know gods generally don’t care but he can relate and also Luther is a tiny eight-year-old still at that point.)

Five obviously feels immense guilt over this. He was just scared and of the monsters and wanted to burn them like he did with some of the others but instead he got his twin!

He helps Luther as good as he can though. In the beginning when Luther still had a hard time he’d cut his food for him.

And nobody, not a soul, not anyone in the whole camp would ever dare to make fun of Luther. Not when his twin is standing behind him with eyes surprisingly icy for someone with fire powers.

They will try twice to go back home to their father.

Once when they are ten and want to maybe see if it was so bad after all.

And once when they are starting highschool and want to give normal life a shot.

The first time engineer human daddy made constant remarks about Luther’s scars. Both of how bad they looked and how it made him a little more clumsy because of how badly his left hand was burned.

He also like implied that he thought Five did it intentional. That was one of the few times Luther had to comfort Five while he was crying. Though he was crying too.

That stay didn’t last more than two days and they were on a bus back to camp.

The second time their human father was nicer. He had a new boyfriend and a dog and seemed genuinely apologetic. Though after how he had behaved neither of the twins accepted those apologies.

He didn’t know how to talk to them still.

There was too much between the three of them and it seemed awkward.

In the end it was a drakon attacking all of them that made the twins decide that this wasn’t their place.

Their father told them that he’d keep their rooms always ready for them to stay when he saw them off.

There weren’t any ‘I love you’s but that dog? The dog of the new boyfriend? She was a female dog and she had puppies in the time they were there. One of those dogs really loved Five.

And Five loved him.

And that’s the story how the Hephaestus-cabin got a tiny mascot named Mr Pennycrumb.

Klaus comes to the camp a year after the twins. He’s thirteen.

His godly parent is Hermes.

His mother had a big green VW trailer when he was little. One with which they traveled through the whole country staying wherever they seemed fit.

They lived in the back cuddled together on the bed. Klaus will still say that was the best time of his life.

It was also his mothers way of trying to protect him from monster. She hoped if they kept going they wouldn’t be to easy to find.

But then she got attacked and killed by a monster anyway and Klaus was handed through the foster system where he was also declared as crazy for how he described his mother’s death.

He went to countless therapists over the years.

Until he got found by a Satyr who brought him to camp.

He quickly joined in with the pranks some of his half-siblings did.

Also he became one of the children of Hermes who smuggle in all the good forbidden stuff the campers need and desire.

He’s quiet great at stealing as well.

Somehow he always gets Luther to build things for his pranks without Luther knowing what they are for.

“What do you need a pieform with a lever system that is remote controlled for?” “Oh, you know, I just wanted to give that harpy on the tree some pie and I can’t throw that high.” “Aw. That’s so nice of you!”

The pie ends up in the face of a surprised Ares-child.

Klaus is cackling in safe distance.

Since he has no other place to go he stays in the camp year round.

Third to join was Allison, only a few months after Klaus at age 15

She’s the daughter of Aphrodite and an artist.

Her father was bewitched by Aphrodite’s beauty and he has a portrait of her.

When she was little Allison spend hours in front of that portrait just staring at her mother.

Her father never once told her about her no matter how many questions she asked only one time when he told her he didn’t like to paint humans and she asked: “What about Mom then?” He answered: “Your mother is entirely different, Allie.”

Allison got handed from school to school. The schools claiming she was manipulative and somehow always got what she wanted and them only realizing what had happened after it was done.

Her father didn’t put her into therapy though. He just ask her to try her best to stop.

Allison didn’t really understand how she was doing it though. People just did what she wanted them to.

It’s charmspeak obviously.

When she was attacked by a Cyclops in school though her father thought it was time to get her to camp so she can learn to cope with her demi-godliness

But she mostly only goes in summer and spends her schoolyear with her Dad.

When Diego joins the camp at 14 a week and a bit after Allison he’s this angry boy always starting fights with anyone around him. So naturally everyone assumes he’s just a child of Ares.

But then he gets claimed and to the surprise of everyone... he is...

The son of Apollo.

Everyone’s like “That angry dude is supposed to go in a cabin full of sunshine people??”

And Diego is a little surprised too.

But he is very good at archery as it turns out.

And dancing! Apollo might be the god of music but you gotta know your way around rhythms if you want to be good at dancing!

His human parent actually is a ballet-dancer.

After she found out she was pregnant with Diego she moved in with her good friend Grace. The two of them fell in love before Diego was born.

Yep, Diego is raised by lesbians. Because I say so.

Grace is this friendly soft Mom we know but she’s also the one to teach Diego various martial arts.

Diego’s biological Mom is this no-funny business stern mother who on the other hand very much loves her son.

She just wants him to succeed in life and with her profession she just learned that you have to be tough to succeed.

Diego ended up in the camp because both of his moms got fed up with getting attacked by various greek monsters all the time.

Well fed up is kind of the wrong word but they wanted to make sure that Diego would be able to defend himself if he was ever in danger and Grace’s teaching don’t help him anymore.

So at the start of the summer they drive him down to camp.

He likes his siblings there.

Though he is concert of one Dave Katz who spends far too much time with that one Hermes kid that can never sit still and he’s not sure if he’s good for him.

Ben comes to camp half a year after Diego with a Satyr. He’s twelve and just radiates sadness seemingly.

Since he’s staying in the Hermes-cabin for a few days before he gets claimed Klaus tries to cheer him up a little with various dumb jokes.

He doesn’t laugh once. He does however ask for some books.

It turns out that he with help of his father worked through his severe dyslexia just to read the stories his father read to him himself

His father was a marine biologist and super dork.

Little Ben had this big book about different sea species he used to look through.

He also had one about different mythologies because his Dad was also super interested in that kind of stuff and wants his son to be informed all around.

He basically had books about anything and everything. And his father tried his best to answer any question he had and the questions he couldn’t answer he’d find someone else to answer.

Anyway you probably already know that Ben’s godly parent is Athena.

Surprise!

Once he gets claimed Klaus is like a little sad cause he started to feel really protective of him while he stayed in the Hermes cabin.

But he gets to see him every day anyway so it’s all good.

They still don’t know what’s going on with him though.

The Athena Cabin and Klaus try their best to find out why he’s so sad all the time.

It comes out during the mission he, Klaus and Diego go on.

On one of his research trips Ben’s father was attacked by Cetus. Ben was also on the trip but was able to safe himself though for a while it looked like he was about to drown.

His mother saved him however with a small boat that appeared under him.

As soon as he got to land it transformed into a tiny nutshell.

Ben has it with him at all times and that’s how he saves Diego and Klaus on that mission telling them that story.

Vanya is who Ben, Klaus and Diego are going on the mission for.

She is this ten-year-old girl in an elite boarding school who for some reasons despite trying her very best always gets in trouble.

The reason is constant monster attacks.

She’s pretty upset about that. She knows her human-father expects the very best from her. And so does she! She has to be the very best!

Her father is a conductor in a high-level orchestrate and he expects his daughter to be a lot better than ordinary.

The boys bring her to camp where she shows off her violin talent.

Diego kinda hopes that she’s an Apollo kid so he can keep an eye on her. Though he’s also somewhat scared of her.

She and Five are instant friends! They sit next to each other at the camp fire listening to the dumb stories Klaus tells or the great ones Allison acts out.

She gets claimed during capture the flag where she wins the flag (with the others help)

Her godly parent is Nike.

She’s a little scared when she sees what kind of overachievers her siblings are.

Sporty kids, Kids that are great at art or acting or school.

And she’s just little Vanya with her tiny violin and she couldn’t even make first chair in her school’s orchestra.

Soon she learns however that even though her siblings are highly competitive they are deep down very sweet.

She goes back to her father after the first summer ends but pretty soon comes back.

He told her what a disappointment she was.

Five and Luther have also returned from their Dad by then and they bond over shitty parents.

Klaus is also still there to lift the mood!

And Ben! He joins in with books he read.

None of them can wait for Diego and Allison to finally join them at the end of the school year.

#The Umbrella Academy #percy jackon and the olympians #crossover #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #though none of them are called hargreeves obviously #luther and five are twins

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mementomcriis · 5 years

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´ ･ . ✶ ⧼ maya hawke, demiwoman, she & her & they & them / girl with one eye by florence and the machine + the soft, white noise crackle of an ancient vhs tape, aging newspaper clippings and yellowed family photographs pinned to a corkboard and connected with a distinct red string, and the cloying, all consuming smell of lavender and sage ⧽ ━━ don’t look now, but that’s SIDNEY AMELIA KNOX-KHAN. the twenty two year old HUMAN has been here in seattle for their whole life, and is a FILM STUDENT & VIDEO STORE CLERK. they’ve always been IRREPRESIBLE & IRON WILLED, but i guess this town just brings out the worst in people ; apparently, they’ve been way more CONTRARIAN & VOCIFEROUS than usual. it wouldn’t surprise me if they knew what was going on. you can check out their stat page HERE.

i wish that i could say that i am a LIGHT that never goes out / BUT I FLICKER FROM time TO time.

section one of three : bullet point history trigger warnings for talk of murder

sidney was born here in seattle, washington. her mother was BEATRICE KHAN, a fairly well known name in the publishing world ( though she never released any of her own countless numbers of novels ), absolutely unrelenting when it came to cutting her clients a good deal. her father was julian knox, a one time american football player who PEAKED in college and turned to writing romance novels after a career ending injury forced him to confront that he wasn’t much qualified for anything else. the family unit that they created was full of love and ever nurturing - perfect, from the inside to the out.

they were the quintessential all american family, where it COUNTED. parents that were sickeningly in love. two kids, with the perfect age difference between them. they lived in a house in the suburbs with a picket fence ( that was actually stained brown, not white ) and a perfect lawn, where the cat they had in place of a dog due to julian’s allergies would lounge, day after day. even the neighbours figured they were perfect ; the kind of thing with with all smiles, to their faces, and muttered darkly in the privacy of their own suburban homes. beatrice would go to work from eight to five, every day. julian would stay home. he got the kids their breakfast, he got them on a bus. he would go inside and write and break up the day with gardening or do it yourself projects, attending community meetings, fulfilling his pta role - and then his kids would come home, and dinner would be on the table in time for his wife’s return. perfect. clockwork.

sidney loved it, personally. she had no desire to act out. no need to break the mold, so to speak. she never felt as if she were stifled, or that her parents were pushing their own ambitions onto her. if anything, the thing that was most shocking about her early life was that she actually ENJOYED it. school could be challenging, in it’s own way - she was diagnosed with dyslexia young, but it took a few more years for them to pinpoint her adhd - but she got all the help that she could have dreamt of needing. she was allowed, if not encouraged, to try every whim that came to mind. they were, after all, within a privileged position enough to ALLOW it. piano lessons for two years, the violin for five. she attempted gymnastics and managed to break her wrist just two lessons in - never bothered to try another more physical activity, after that, but she had a healthy appreciation for watching sports, just like dad. her home life was excellent. her school life was just fine. she was a BRIGHT and curious soul, and she had aspirations for the kind of college that should she have attended, her mother could have lived VICARIOUSLY through her. she was extremely lucky to like her parents, and to appreciate the life that they had given her for all that it was.

she shouldn’t have to look back on these earlier years with sadness, and yet, life simply doesn’t work the way that it SHOULD. the week before the murders, she never could have presumed what was going to happen, though she was plagued by nightmares - something that she attributed to the horror movie marathon she had just completed or the milk drank before bed, and not to anything legitimate. she dreamt of hooded figures and serrated knives and a screaming that never stopped ringing in her ears, even after she awoke in a cold sweat and struggled to fall back asleep. she would struggle from the tangle of bedsheets with the urge to wash her hands, compulsively ; as if she were trying to get non-existent blood out from beneath her fingernails. she was fifteen years old, and she googled things like ‘can my period give me nightmares?’ and ‘is the milk before bed thing legit’, but she had NO REASON to fear the images that slipped away, as night turned into day.

it seems cruel, in it’s own way, that the night which changed the course of sidney’s life for good is one she spent completely unaware. she was staying at her girlfriends house - a sleepover planned for almost a MONTH - and the next morning, when the police came to pick her up, she had been in the midst of eating breakfast with the affectionately named ‘in laws’ and trying to swallow back a persistent feeling of unease. she was lucky that she was waiting for a lift back to her house - she was luckier, still, that a nosy neighbour had noticed her mother’s car hadn’t left for work, yet, and popped around to check in on them. if they hadn’t, and if she had gotten the early morning bus as planned, then sidney would have had to live with image of her bloodied parents until the day she DIED, too.

her mom and dad were gone. this was the gut punch, number one. number two was that her sibling - her should have been legal guardian - was under arrest. the MURDER weapon ( a phrase she had only ever heard on tv, and could never have guessed would be said in regards to her life ) had been found wrapped in one of their jackets and thrown in a dumpster outside. they had been picked up a block away, and in interrogation, their alibi didn’t stand up. it was a rather cut & dry case, and suddenly, everyone in the neighbourhood - what felt like the whole world, back then - was doing their level best to pick sidney’s picture perfect life apart. people who had once only ever had good things to say now talked about late night arguments between mom and dad. said that they had never trusted the look of her sibling, not even when they were a kid. said there was something not right about them - and that they couldn’t be sure sidney wasn’t the same. the circumstantial evidence piled against the only member of family that sid had left, and there was nothing that could be done. she was put into the system a mere week after the murders, and everything moved quickly on. she talked to a handful of reporters, but for the most part, people out in the world didn’t care for the story. it wasn’t anything too SPECIAL, she supposed.

too many stories talk of foster care becoming a sort of hell for the children stuck in it. for sidney, however, her foster home was her only salvation from the world outside her door. the one thing that she could rely on, even as she went through the most momentous changes. her first week back at school, the staring was almost painful. the whispers were worse. sidney requested she be moved, and in the process, she allowed herself be cut off from her old life - the friends she had, the partner she had loved. she started somewhere new, and she was... different, now. stranger. sidney’s way of dealing with all that had happened was to cling to things that had once only been a special interest - UNSOLVED crimes, sensationalist stories, horror movies and the supernatural. she spent a lot of time in her room, and she spent even more indulging in these new interests. the people at her new school figured that she was weird, and that assumption only got worse when they discovered what had happened to her parents. whispers of her being like her MURDEROUS sibling were somehow worse than anything else that had ever been said, but she took it, for the most part, on the chin. she couldn’t explain her sudden draw to the macabre, even less than she could explain why everything in her life had fallen apart. frankly.... it didn’t matter. she simply was.

sidney’s foster family supported her, right up until she turned eighteen, and even after. she sacrificed the dream of an ivy league school for something more achievable, beginning to attend a seattle local college after graduation and majoring in film, finding among those students - OLDER and more mature, of course, than high school kids - something she had started to forget was possible. her job as a film store clerk didn’t exactly help her rake in the cash, but once she started selling movie reviews to online publications, sidney was able to save up some money and buy professional equipment - beginning her podcast in late 2018. she doesn’t tend to talk about what happened. she doesn’t tend to think about her SIBLING. she’s got a life, now, and it’s not exactly the one she ever expected to be living - but it is her own, and that’s really all that she can hope for.

section two of three : headcanons

sidney dealt with her grief by… hyper fixating on a special interest she had always sort of had, and becoming quite the little movie buff. horror movies, more than anything, but people didn’t react very well when she went off on a tangent over wes craven’s talent, so she broadened her horizons a little. she enjoys film, maybe moreso than she should. all that led her to other special interests, and now she’s dabbled in just about everything that a woman can.

her podcast deals, of course, with unsolved mysteries. this usually takes the form of unsolved CRIMES, but... she believes in ghosts and aliens, and she throws an episode in every now and then that deals with them. she’s very open about this side gig, solely because she hopes that someday, it’ll be what she does for a living - and because there’s no point in attempting to hide something that’s such a huge part of her life, even if people do tend to... not enjoy her being so into these things, as the daughter of two murder victims.

her older sibling was acquitted of the crime - eventually. sidney still doesn’t enjoy thinking about them or it, per say, but when the news reached her, she did begin to... hyper fixate, once again, and begin to obsess over what the TRUTH was. she has cork theory board dedicated solely to her parents - and more recently has added another one, dedicated to what’s happening in seattle. she’s not gifted, or in the know, but she’s certainly not an idiot.

has a pet rat named church ( which is a fairly ironic reference to the cat in pet sematary ), and he’s NOT her first. she’s owned several since she was put into care, and they’ve always been something of an emotional support for her.

while i align sidney more with ‘conspiracy theories’ and ‘true crime’ than i do ghosts and ghouls, i will admit that i tend to push a lot of spooky cliche’s onto her, because i like having a character who’s very IN TOUCH and into that season, in particular. promise i’m trying to control the impulses.

always has on at least five necklaces and eight rings, and never has any less than ten bracelets. her style would be hard to define, but the amount of cheap jewelry is FAIRLY indicative.

section three of three : wanted connections

sidney knox-khan, our maya hawke is looking for their older sibling who resembles finn cole, tiera skovbye, dacre montgomery / up to player and should be 23+. applicants do not have to contact rachel to talk over details before applying. ( pls allow me preface with the fact that i wld be happy for her sibling to be half / adopted / fostered either, and they don’t necessarily have to be named after a horror character like sid was - though the latter is a fun lil thing abt the family, so i would love if u went that route too ! sid and her sib have had. a rough life. and by that i mean, they had an entirely perfect life up until the sib was aged 18 - when they were arrested for the murder of their well to do parents. it’s all explained more clearly within sid’s intro, and basically… the evidence was circumstantial and flimsy. it probably would have made sense they spend SOME time behind bars, but it’s also possible they didn’t - though sid was put into care for the remainder of her teens, so may not know they were ever released ! the two very distinct routes this could go in are …. sid being suspicious of them and feeling as if they must of done it, because who else could have, or alternatively - sid being open to the idea of them not, because nothing about the case ever sat right w her. we could talk more abt it, but i feel like it’s one of those connects i just. wld love to have ! )

sidney knox-khan, our maya hawke is looking for their foster family ( parents, siblings, etc ) who resemble ariela barer, iman meskini, madchen amick, santiago segura, herman tommeraas, bradley cooper / up to player and should be any age. applicants do not have to contact rachel to talk over details before applying. ( sid never took their name, so first up - that’s a detail open to applicants ! basically. there’s a mother, a father, and their merry band of foster kids - probably… four… five? a nice amount. none of them have to be like one another. none of them have to fit a specific role. this is the family that took sidney in after her parents were murdered, and the fact of the matter is - there are a LOT of stories in which foster care became a hell for the protagonist, but that’s not sid’s story. she was ostracized in school. she had lost her only blood relations. her foster home became a safe haven, and the people within it became as close as could be to her. we stan one supportive household who still hold her whole heart, to this day. )

sidney knox-khan, our maya hawke is looking for their close friends ( max. four ) who resemble virginia gardner, justice smith, sydney park / up to player and should be 21+. applicants do not have to contact rachel to talk over details before applying. ( sid didn’t have ANY friends until she got to college, due completely to how #weird people began to find her. she eventually found her squad, but they’re basically. like every good horror movie group. her equivalent would be rany meeks from scream 1996, or noah foster from scream tv. she fits their archetype, but i wouldn’t say that the group MUST comprise of likeminded people. in fact, it’s more fun if they don’t. they’re not a group of jocks or cheerleaders or popular kids, but they are a sort of breakfast club. a merry band of b-listers who grouped together and have remained together for a real long time. )

sidney knox-khan, our maya hawke is looking for their ex poly ship who resemble up to player and should be 21+. applicants do not have to contact rachel to talk over details before applying. ( sidney made a bunch of… not entirely excellent choices, in the yrs following her parents deaths. that isn’t to say she acted out, or that she did anything that was too out of character for her. she really didn’t - but she did become a much more WEIRD version of who she had always been, and people pushed her away because of it. when others came along that seemed to be able tolerate who she had become, she clung to them - to almost extreme degrees. the relationship was a whirlwind if ever there was one, and perhaps wasn’t ‘true love’. maybe not even close. but they did seem to work right up until when they didn’t - and the end was quite messy, by all standards. sid did a good job of ending relationships on friendly terms, but this didn’t - all details aside from these are open for discussion ! )

#equinox.intro #˚ 　　biography 　 .　　 . ⊹ the grandchild of witches you weren’t able to burn.#death mention cw #murder mention cw

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cobythinks · 5 years

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Bad Day

I wanted to write angst. So I done and wrote some Roman Angst. Don’t wanna clog your blog so most of it’s gonna be below the cut!

You can find all my other writing on my MASTERLIST

Summary: Human AU. Roman wakes up and knows it will be a bad day, so what’s the point in even trying? Well, his friends and boyfriend come to tell him.

Warnings: swearing, food mention, self-deprecation, depressing thoughts, mentions of medication. Nothing too explicit, though! And a happy ending! <3

Ships: Logince

Roman groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. What? He could have sworn his alarm went off hours ago… He groaned and rolled over, searching for his phone. It had managed to fell off the charger and under the nightstand. He flipped it over and squinted to turn it on. Then he groaned again when he saw what time it was. How had he slept in so late? And why was he too tired to care?

He sat up, rubbing his eyes again. His bed seemed so soft, and he was tired enough that he could just fall right back asleep and sleep for the rest of the day. But he couldn't do that, could he? He was already half an hour late for his first class, and he needed to eat, and get dressed, and shower, and… Roman flopped back down onto his pillow and sighed. Being awake sounded too hard.

He was just drifting off yet again when the phone - still on the floor - started to ring. Roman yelped, nearly falling off the bed in his attempt to pick it up. It was Patton, but just before he answered the phone stopped ringing. Roman scowled when his phone reported that, as usual, his crappily placed room had no signal.

“Fine…” Roman yawned, letting himself tumble onto the floor. “I’m up…” bless Patton’s heart. He had the same class as Roman did today, must have gotten worried. He’d be calling back.

In the meantime, Roman dragged himself to his feet. He might as well get dressed, so he can tell Patton he was at least planning to do something today. Roman peered tiredly into his mirror, then ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t need a shower, it wasn’t that dirty. He yawned again and pulled on the first T-shirt in his drawer, then a pair of jeans from the floor. He nearly forgot to take of his pajama bottoms first, and sighed in annoyance when he realized.

It's not like this is the first time Roman’s had a day like this. It’s been a while, but he knows how it usually ends. He probably won’t go to any classes today - he won’t be able to focus anyway even with his medication. Roman scowled, then rubbed his eyes again. Oh yeah, he should take that. If he took it too late in the day he’d be up all night, and he didn’t need that after a sleep like that.

Though… Roman stared grumpily toward the clock on his wall. Maybe he shouldn’t, today. It was already later than he usually took it, and he wouldn’t need to focus if he didn’t go anywhere. That, and he’d run out of the prescription one day later than he’d been planning, so he’d be sure to get a new one before he did. And it’d be nice to have a day where he didn’t get nauseous from any strong smell...

Roman yawned and ran a hand through his hair, not bothering to comb it flat again. It was settled, then, he’d just have a lazy, medication-free day. He could watch TV or read, or work on a project he’d been planning. Roman smiled, still exhausted, and grabbed his phone before shuffling out to the kitchen.

Patton still hadn’t called back, Roman noticed suddenly. He looked down at the phone in his hand, which now in the kitchen showed a few bars of service. He’d probably call soon. Roman should get something to eat.

Despite the numerous breakfast food choices in Roman’s small kitchen, he only grabbed a container of leftover pasta and pulled off the lid to microwave it. Lazy day meant he didn’t have to cook, right? Besides, this was Patton’s ‘famous’ alfredo. The best alfredo Roman had ever had.

Roman lazily watched the microwave rotate, then frowned at the phone on the counter in front of him. Patton usually called back immediately, right? Especially if he was the one to call. He would always call at least twice.

Or, maybe he’d just given up.

The thought made Roman surprisingly depressed as he pulled the pasta out of the microwave. He sighed sadly and grabbed a fork, but left the phone in the kitchen as he trudged to the couch. Once there, he buried himself in blankets and turned on a Disney movie before starting to eat.

God, he really was pathetic wasn’t he? Roman stared unhappily down at his pasta. He woke up late and had to skip an entire day. Should he just drop out of highschool? Maybe. It’d be simpler to just get a full time job and suffer without his degree.

Roman shook his head and stuffed a bite of alfredo pasta into his mouth. He wasn’t supposed to think like that. They were supposed to have had this figured out in high school. ADHD gave him some depression symptoms, which was why he had his medication. Tomorrow, or maybe later today, he’d know that was ridiculous. He sighed again, feeling the deep melancholy sink into his chest.

Unless he was right, and all of this was for nothing.

“I’m going to his apartment after class,” Patton said to Virgil. Thank goodness they were just working on a project and could talk. “He didn’t answer twice, so I’m just gonna check on him myself.”

“What about your Science class?”

“I have an A,” Patton shrugged unhappily. “And… I haven’t missed any yet, which I was happy about. But Roman’s more important.”

“I’ll come with,” Virgil decided. “I don’t have another class until after lunch anyway.” Patton smiled, nodding.

“Okey dokey! I’m sure he’s okay, probably just sick or something. You know Roman doesn’t go out unless he thinks he’s 100%.”

“Unless he thinks he looks 100%.” Virgil corrected with a smirk. “He’ll come to class with walking pneumonia if he still looks like a disney prince.” Patton giggled.

“Yeah, maybe he’s just having a bad hair day.” he agreed, feeling better. “We’ll just pop in on him quickly and maybe I’ll still make it to science on time.” Virgil nodded and they both turned back to the project, Patton feeling much happier about his friend.

Half an hour later, the two were standing in front of Roman’s door.

“Hey, Roman?” Patton knocked. “You in there, buddy?” No answer. Virgil scowled and pressed his ear against the door.

“Disney.” he reported, then pounded harder on the door. “Roman!” Still no answer.

Worry slammed back into Patton’s mind and he started digging through his backpack, finally locating an extra key. He pulled it out and Virgil frowned.

“Is that a key to his apartment?”

“He gave it to me months ago,” Patton shrugged as he wiped it off. “He said ‘just in case’ but I have no idea what that meant.”

“Hm.” Virgil stepped back as Patton unlocked the door and opened it, stepping inside. What he saw was surprising, not to mention worrying.

“Roman?”

Their friend sat in a pile of blankets next to the couch, positioned like he’d fallen off the couch at some point. He stared at the ceiling, not seeming to notice they were there. Patton glanced at Virgil, who was scowling harder than ever.

“Roman, you okay?”

“Hm?” Roman turned his head to look at them. “Oh… hey guys…”

“What the hell?” Virgil pushed past Patton and reached to grab Roman’s arm. Roman sighed, letting himself be pulled into a sitting position. “Dude, what happened?”

“I-I’m just… uh, having a lazy day,” Roman mumbled. “Y’know…”

Patton looked around, spotting an empty container and fork on the couch. Virgil grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, Roman didn’t say anything, just leaned back and rested his head on the couch, looking up at the ceiling again.

“Roman, are you okay?” Patton sat next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Roman shrugged.

“I’m calling Logan.” Virgil decided, pulling out his phone. Roman protested slightly at the sound of his boyfriends name, but gave up almost immediately. Virgil walked to the kitchen with the phone, and Patton turned to look at Roman.

“Seriously, Ro, what’s going on?”

“I…” Roman’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “I don’t know.”

Logan pulled out his phone, surprised to see Virgil’s number. He answered immediately, looking around the near-empty bus.

“Virgil? Don’t you have a class now?”

“Ended fifteen minutes ago,” Virgil said quickly. “But listen, I’m calling about Roman.”

“Roman?” Logan smiled fondly. “What about him?”

“I don’t know. He’s acting really weird and lethargic, almost sad, and-”

“Lethargic?” Logan stood up as he approached the stop. Oh no. Of course, the day he was coming to surprise his boyfriend with a visit he was having one of those days. He hadn’t had one for at least a month and a half now.

“Yeah, do you know anything about this?”

“Has he taken his medication?” Logan asked worriedly, pulling his bag up over his shoulder.

“What medication?” Virgil asked. Logan sighed, shaking his head. Of course, his prideful boyfriend hadn’t told them. Even though Logan lived two hours away, he still kept it a secret from his best friends.

“I’m coming.” Logan finally said.

“Wh- you’re two hours away, and-”

“I’m entering his building.” Logan chuckled sadly. “I had a few days off of school and wanted to surprise Roman. I’ll be there in like, sixty seconds. Is he okay?”

“Uh-” Logan heard a few background sounds from the phone. “Shit. He’s kinda… crying. Thank god for Patton, I’m so awkward, I-”

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Logan hung up and sprinted up the stairs, skipping the elevator. He didn’t have time for the elevator. God, Roman better have taken his medication.

The door was still part way open when Logan burst through, eyes skimming around. Patton was holding a sobbing Roman in his arms, surrounded by all of Roman’s blankets and an empty tupperware container. Virgil was standing awkwardly by the kitchen doorway, and seemed incredibly relieved to see Logan enter.

“Roman.” Logan knelt next to his boyfriend and gently touched his shoulder.

“Lo-” Roman didn’t finish speaking before he turned to hug Logan tightly, trying to stop crying. “H-how… why?”

“I was going to surprise you.” Logan said gently, hugging his boyfriend tightly. “Roman, what’s going on?” Roman shrugged, burying his face in Logan’s chest. Logan sighed. He was going to have to be… less than gentle. Just for a moment. “Get up.” he sighed, pulling them both to their feet. Roman stumbled, but stepped back and rubbed his eyes.

“I… I didn’t know you were coming, I…” Roman looked sadly around the room. “Um…”

“Where’s your medication?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you take it?”

“Well…” Roman smiled sheepishly, but Logan could see it was faked.

“Roman…” Logan rubbed his eyes. “You have to take your medication!”

“Well it’s too late now,” Roman flopped onto the couch and sighed. Logan frowned.

“Good to see you Logan!” Patton forced himself to sound cheerful.

“Er-” Logan glanced up. Virgil seemed anxious to have something to do. “Virgil, do you think you could bring all these blankets to the bedroom?”

“Yeah.” Virgil hurried to gather the blankets, Logan sat down and pulled Roman into a hug. Roman immediately responded, cuddling into him.

“Patton, if you’d go to the bathroom and find Roman’s medication in the cabinet, and bring us a glass of water?”

“Sure thing!” Patton was gone in a heartbeat, leaving Logan and Roman alone in the living room. Logan sighed, running his fingers through Roman’s hair. He wasn’t much for physical touch, but Roman was. And he’d obviously had a bad day.

“M sorry.” Roman mumbled into Logan’s shoulder.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Logan stated. “You know this is something you’ve always struggled with.”

“M stupid.” Roman said. Logan frowned, pushing him back to look him in the eye. Roman bit his lip, tears in his eyes again.

“You are not stupid,” Logan said irritably. Roman frowned. “You’ve done stupid things, but that doesn’t make you stupid. But you know you need to take your medication.”

“I felt like crap when I woke up…” Roman mumbled. “Might as well save it for tomorrow…”

“No, you know that’s not right.” Logan sighed. “Nevermind. You’ll take it now, and then it’ll be fine.”

“But-”

“It’s okay that you’ll stay up late tonight because we’re going to a movie.” Logan decided, wiping tears off of his face. Patton walked in with the bottle of medication and a glass of water. Roman sighed and accepted it, downing the tablet with a swig of water.

“Sorry, Patt,” he sighed and looked at the clock. “You’re missing your class, and-”

“It’s alright!” Patton promised.

“But-”

“Shut it, Princey,” Virgil came in and leaned on the back of the couch. “You could’ve just told us you were having a bad day.”

“And now we know,” Patton said softly. “So it’ll be all good.”

“Thanks.” Roman sighed and leaned back onto Logan’s shoulder. Logan wrapped a protective arm around him and smiled gently, combing his fingers through his hair.

Logan glanced toward the door, where he’d dropped his backpack after entering. There was a more important surprise than just visiting, but he figured that could wait until after the movie. Or perhaps tomorrow. Either way, he wouldn’t have to leave his boyfriend for long after this visit.

He just hoped Roman liked the ring.

I told you there was a happy ending ;)

Thank you for reading!! <3

-Coby

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paw-patrol-kiddo · 5 years

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2018 for my regressive side

Oh my gosh, we’re at the end of the year already! It went by sooooo fast!!! I’m a shook baby hee hee hee

Anyways, as some of y’all may remember, I did a post like this last year! Things have happened since then, things have changed-- and I wanna cover it all! I don’t think I’d call this the best year of my life (I say this because I’m not so sure about 2017 being the best year of my life anymore tbh), but it was still pretty dang good!!! Had its hard parts and such, bu otherwise, was a v good year!!!!

Y’all probs know the drill: I write mostly about my age regression adventures this year, with occasional bits of my Teenage Life(tm) sprinkled in here and there! I try to keep the latter to very important events, though (frankly, I think I have failed terribly at this, but do I care? At this point in my life, not really tbh), and mostly focus on regression when I can.

If you wanna do somethin like this for what this year held for your regressive side, feel free to!! I’d love if ya tagged me in it so I can read it!

Are we ready for the year review? I am and hope you are! It’s below the cut if ya wanna read it! Here we go!!!

January of course started off with my 16th birthday! It also marked five years (note: I miswrote this as either five or six in my first year review post! It’s actually been five, almost six years now) since I started liking diapies again, something that’s been a part of my life on-and-off since 2010 for sure, though I think I’ve liked them since at least 2008 according to my memories and the vibes I get from them!

“Chloe, why is this important?” You probably ask as you read that sentence.

Well, personally, I think it’s a huge part of what led me to begin age regressing! I started off liking diapies, then I started wondering about “being and acting like a baby/toddler again”, I started acting on some of the desires and urges I got as a result whenever I could, and well, it went on from there as we can see!

Towards the end of this month, I got some cool baby toys, more toddler snacks, and another pack of binkies! That was a pretty good-ish day from what I’m able to remember. c:

Oh yeah! I gots another rattle before then! She was one of the only good parts of a terrible day. I still love her so much.

This month, I also began seeing a friend irl again that I refer to here as friendo! We first met when we were 12, saw each other again twice when we were both 13, and then never met again... until back in 2017 at a Halloween event! For most of this year, we saw each other weekly, and I’m so happy to say that friendo is my best irl friend. He’s really an amazing guy. He doesn’t know it, but he’s helped me get through the rest of my depressive episode.

Yup, I said it. Remember when I said I thought the episode I had back in November last year was over and that I probably just cheated one and thus was irritable as a result? Hoo, buddy, I was so wrong... I was still depressed and had no idea and it blew up in my face. It was bad. I’m talking being hardly able to get my chores done, being able to get out of bed being a miraculous achievement, happiness being a rare feeling.

It was so bad that my doctor told me if I kept having problems, we’d have to talk about “getting a mood stabilizer or anti-depressant on board”.

Fortunately, it hasn’t reached that point, and things started getting gradually better when I finally admitted I was depressed and got help after things took a sharp turn for the worse briefly (my parents even let me take a few days off of my chores so I could focus on resting and recovery! They’re no strangers to depression themselves).

The only happy thing I can really note during this time involving regression is that I discovered one of the very few things that could make me feel happy that wasn’t involving my special interests: Wearing diapers. It’s kinda funny to me! Depressed me was quick to figure out that was likely one of her best ways to cope.

That event sucks because now whenever I start feeling sad for more than one day, well, as you can imagine I immediately begin worrying that it’s coming back for another round. Whenever I stop feeling as happy, I start observing myself more closely. The thought of it coming back actually scares me.

I know one thing for sure: If that beast comes back, I’m going to get myself medicated for it ASAP. I’d really rather not, but if it comes back, then I guess it’s safe to say that seeing as I’ve struggled with depression on-and-off since at least 2013, medication’s probably a good idea!

Man! How’s that for a ramble? Let’s move on and talk about February! My ex came back to me after he stopped talking to me in October. At first, I was so happy! I quickly began befriending him again, especially after I learned that his ex-girlfriend, whom he had just broke up with, was less-than-ideal towards him.

But then I discovered he wanted to get back with me and was actively trying to get me to. I was scared if I flat-out said “I do not want to get back with you. I want to just be friends”, he’d flip out in the bad way. Honestly, he probably would. So what did I do?

Did what I felt was best to do with the help of Mama.

Let’s just say we’re not friends anymore. :3c I still feel bad about it sometimes, but hey, I can write An Actual List of problems involving our relationship, romantic and otherwise, so I guess it’s valid to not be comfortable with being his friend anymore, especially since it’s clear he just wants me back with him, no matter how I feel. He still stares at me whenever we play baseball. It bothers me a lot. Hopefully, he’ll get over me soon.

On the more positive and regressive side of things, some cool things happened. Friendo also pretty much called me out about me being little a lot (even when I’m big!) and accepted it without realizing it. Some may say he didn’t, but I think he did and it means so much to me. Pretty sure I almost cried of joy when that happened. I think about it every now and then and love friendo a little more. He’s a keeper for sure when it comes to friends!

March was w i l d. First day into the month, I literally had one of my then-rare nonverbal episodes. I was worried that maybe I was beginning to become depressed again as I noticed I was beginning to feel more tired. As I know now, turns out it was just my autistic burnout kind of setting back in-- oh, and my anxiety beginning to reach the point where I couldn’t cope anymore. But I didn’t know this at the time.

I shrugged it off briefly-- until I had another episode while on voice-chat with friendo. And another one the next day while on a real life trip to a museum. And then another when Kim came to visit... The nonverbal episodes rapidly became a close-to-daily experience, sometimes totally daily. As I watched myself “regress” as my mom and aunt put it, I was confused and scared about what was happening to me. The confusion eased once I figured out it was burnout, but obviously the fear didn’t really.

I went off my ADHD medication I was taking at the time (Adderall) towards the end of the month. I still find it interesting that I couldn’t regress on it. I don’t quite know why! I just couldn’t.

I tried taking two other medications after, but they... didn’t quite work, at least in pleasant ways. I won’t go into detail on those!

Kiddo-wise, I got new window curtains for my room! They’re one of the first things I see every morning. It’s very nice~ One of the things that gives my room the kiddy vibe of it. Oh, and I got a Paw Patrol bowl this month, too! I love to eat Cheerios out of it~

Literally the last day of this month, guess what happened? Kim moved in! That was an awesome day~ It sucked seeing her cry, though (that part right there? A bit of a personal part that I suppose I won’t share since I’m not sure if she’d be okay with it or not)

April was a Nice Month! I finally started going to occupational therapy (I was originally going to start in May, but I got pushed forward a month) and I can say with confidence it’s helped me a lot in the time I got to go. My occupational therapist taught me a lil trick I can do before I actually try eating any foods I want to try and it’s made my life much easier. I can try all the kiddy foods I want now without feeling as anxious about it! :D Who would’ve known that I’d like peanut butter sandwiches and string cheese? I wouldn’t have! Also, the Wilbarger brush? A gift to mankind imo

What else happened this month? Let’s see here... I went on anxiety medication via suggestion of my therapist/psychologist (oh my gosh, life-changer right there friends, 10/10, I actually don’t know how I lived without it), watched my nonverbal episodes take a major decrease afterwards, and Mommy surprised me with a pack of diapies with tapes! I can definitely say I prefer diapies with tapes, but I’m not that picky. Actually, I kind of am. It depends on how old I’m regressing to. Then I’m kinda picky, heh heh

May tbh? A pretty quiet month. All I can note is that summer break started for Kai and I and we both got to actually take a full summer break without the usual math-work we have to do! (I’m dyscalculic and prone to what my mom and I call “math skill regression”, so that’s why I have to practice. Idk about Kai, but I think it’s because she seems to have some difficulties with math herself)

The day I was told about our Complete Summer Break(tm), man, I flipped! I told myself I would make this summer the littlest one ever! Did I succeed? Sadly, no. But hey, there’s always next summer! And the next one if that doesn’t work out...

June was super-duper cool! I got a new bed to replace my queen-sized one and I managed to get a complete Paw Patrol bed set for it! I love my bed so much~ It’s so cute and Literally Perfect, especially when we consider the fact that I also have a weighted blanket with Elsa and Anna from Frozen on it! (I’ve actually had it for about two years now, but it’s not shown in the photo-set in the link!) Oh, and let’s not forget the Pillow Pet I’ve used as my main pillow since I first received it back in 2010! (That’s not in the photo-set either!)

The day after I got my new bed? Baseball ended for the summer. I knew what to do the first Saturday of no baseball. Funny enough, as if she read my mind, Mama surprised me with some Paw Patrol bandages that day! They always cheer me up whenever I get a boo-boo :3c

Towards the end of this month, I celebrated this blog’s one year anniversary! I am seriously so glad I made this blog. If I hadn’t, I can’t imagine what my life would be like, where I’d still be hiding this from A LOT of people, where I likely wouldn’t have met and become friends with quite a bit of y’all, where I wouldn’t have become more comfortable with myself. I’m sure I’d be very unhappy and feeling so trapped and lonely involving this. Otherwise... I simply can’t imagine what my life would be like otherwise.

As if I observed this day without thinking, I went to the Dollar Store pretty much next to Easter Seals (where I went for occupational therapy) place and had quite the shopping trip! That was fun~

July was a pretty nice month, I suppose! Early this month marked one year since I first wore a diaper for the first time since my first childhood! I just had to observe it in a specific way (aka wearing a diaper), only the day before the actual anniversary itself. Funny enough, Kim’s cat ended up coming to live with us that day! Her name is Rogue and she's really cute! She can be really mean sometimes, though. She ended up having kittens later this month~

Another regression-related thing that happened was that while we were on vacation, I got some cool toys! I got a train with lil block things on it, three stacking cars, a pink spiky ball, and two teddy rattles! I... still need to post pictures of those, apparently. I also got a dinoroar plushie that I named Jackson! He’s one of my favorite plushies and I love him a lot. I should post a piccy of him on here sometime!

Something else that happened on vacation was that I went nonverbal the second day of being there. Everyone, including me, was chill since it was normal by then. I went to bed that night and woke up the next morning, only to find I was still nonverbal. Talk about quite a shock for everyone! (I normally stop being nonverbal once I sleep, so this was really weird for me)

I ended up spending the rest of the vacation nonverbal, which I was pretty chill with, save for some problems communicating in a hot-tub without my tablet (Kim had a hard time keeping up with what I signed).

The day after we got home, back came my verbal skills. Five days later? If I’ve got my memory of what day correct, I heard Dad coming home from where he volunteers occasionally and suddenly got the paralyzing feeling in my throat I usually get just before I go nonverbal. In around ten minutes, I was nonverbal, but for seemingly no reason.

Save for two or so brief breakthroughs, I spent quite a while without mouth-words. My family and therapist and I have figured out what the cause is likely since then. (It’s quite long... I actually had the explanation here, but removed it cause it was Way Too Long. If anyone’s curious, I’m okay with talking about it if anyone wants to message me n ask about it~)

August isn’t very exciting!

Non-kiddo wise, I got my IPad to use as an AAC device! I use Proloquo2go on it if anyone’s curious. I honestly love it a lot.

Kiddo-wise, the only thing I can really note is that I... kinda started sucking my thumb again. Oops :3c Kim’s made me mostly stop though, by kind of using consequences for me if I didn’t stop and get my chew necklace I like to suck on (One big example I can think of: “Go get your necklace or we won’t cuddle anymore.”). She even had Kai take over redirecting me when she left for Texas the next month! It’s not fun, but I guess I don’t need to risk making my already severe overbite worse.

September didn’t have a lot either! The only thing I can think of noting is that I tried some Paw Patrol mac n cheese. Either the two or so brands I’ve tried weren’t that good or I just don’t like mac n cheese! Who knows? I’m probably gonna try Kidfresh’s mac n cheese if I can actually find it irl and if I don’t like it, I think we can safely conclude that I just don’t like mac n cheese.

October was a v nice month as semi-usual the past couple years! I finally got some Kidfresh food to try out. I like their super-blastin’ triple cheese pizza bites a lot! I don’t like their chicken meatballs, though. I have quite a bit of foods I wanna try from Kidfresh next and I can’t quite decide which, but I’ll probably try their cheese pizza or chicken nuggets or maybe their fish sticks next!

I also went trick-or-treating for Halloween! it was super fun, except when Kai got upset about being treated Not So Great by others (Example: People loved to give kiddos multiple pieces of candy and just give her one piece when her turn came, despite having lots of candy for everyone... Can confirm this myself) and when I used my IPad to say trick-or-treat for the first time there, I was greeted by the lady turning away from me, apparently no longer paying attention to me, and beginning to go on about “kids playing on their phones and tablets”... How’s that for hurtful? Last time I checked, Halloween was for everyone, no matter how they say trick-or-treat.

In case anyone’s wondering, I’m going trick-or-treating again next year and have no plans to stop ever cause I’m stubborn. :3c I’m just going to find a place that will be cool with people “too old to be trick-or-treating” trick-or-treating to take my trick-or-treating business-- and hey, maybe I won’t have to encounter any ableism there!

November has nothing I can note besides me getting a new pair of overalls! This was not only useful seeing as I might be getting close to outgrowing my first pair I got a few years back, but also welcome! It’s nice having overalls that are blue instead of some green country print thing all over.

December was... an adventure! I slowly began regaining my mouth words, which means that I can babble again (A lot of the sounds I make while babbling are apparently inaccessible to me when I’m nonverbal as I’ve discovered)! It’s nice being able to babble to myself again when I’m very small instead of just staying silent and occasionally giggling, squealing, and perhaps vocal stimming in the way I’m able to when I’m nonverbal.

At Walmart, while shopping for some fellow kiddo friends (y’all know who y’all are, hee hee hee~), I ended up picking up some small stuff for myself! I got another Paw Patrol plate, a set of bath toys, and a doggie and piggy rattle! I’ve posted a piccy of the plate already, but not everything else! Guess that’s some of the stuff I need to do for next year~

Christmas was great! I got lots of toys! I also got quite a bit of Paw Patrol merch! I love my new toys so much. I’m especially glad that I finally have more blocks to play with, and another Mr. Potato Head I can make super great creations with, like monsters n aliens disguised as a repairman!

Oh! I also got a Fisher-Price record player toy after wanting it for so long! I love it soooo much!! Whenever I play with it, I get so flappy n clappy n wiggly n vocal stimmy... I just have so much love for it! It’s definitely one of my favorite toys to play with right now.

I also got a 3D model of the solar system that I’m gonna build n hang up in my room sometime soon! I actually had a 3D model of the solar system in one of my kiddo room fantasies for the longest time omg. Oooh, if I can find a way to get rid of the popcorn ceiling (never put glow-in-the-dark stuff on a popcorn ceiling), I bet it would go so good with another glow-in-the-dark star set that also includes a big 3D moon and 6 meteorite stones! Y’all, my room just gets cuter and more kiddie-like as time goes on...

As we can all see, I’ve had quite the year! It’s had its good and bad parts of course, and I’d say overall, it was a pretty good year! Hmm, you know what? I should list some people who have played a role in making this year Great!

Mommy - Mama, I can’t even begin to express how thankful I am for all you’ve done for me. The past year you’ve taken me to therapy appointments, held me and bottlefed me, and helped me finally get occupational therapy after wanting to go for 3 years. You’re such a beautiful person, inside and out. You love me for who I am, and I love you for who you are right back <3

Daddy - I didn’t list you last year, but to be honest, I think I should this year! You’re trying your best and I can appreciate that. From taking me to therapy appointments, to being okay with me using bottles and sippy cups, to getting me that Paw Patrol nightlight back in May if I’m correct, you’ve done a lot for me. You’re a good dad. I need to tell you that more often. I love you Daddy.

Kai - You’re such a good sister I can’t even begin-- You’re just? so accepting of me??? and you’re such a good person???? I’m love you????? Seriously, thank you for being there for me pretty much all our lives and taking care of me whenever I needed it, especially early this year during my depressive episode. Love ya sis <3

Kim - I, umm... I love you!! You’re so sweet, gentle, and you’re so accepting of my age regression (or as you call it, “identifying as a 7-year-old”). I had lots of fun browsing the toy aisle with you that one time! I’ve miss you lots since you decided to stay in Texas back in October, but hey, at least you’ll visit us sometimes! And you’ve got a nice man I actually like to live your life with. Love ya sissy <3

Ray - You’re super cool and adorable~ (Random fun fact: I tend to think of you whenever I read- or hear- the word “Ray”) Also, I still love that mood board ya made me back in 2017. I’m never gonna get over it! Hope you’re doing alright, buddy <3

Cass - It’s been even longer since we talked! You haven’t been on Tumblr in a while it seems, actually. I hope you’re doing okay and that you’re just busy (in a good way, preferably) and that’s why you haven’t been online! You’re so cute and sweet. Whenever I can, you know what I’m gonna do? Take a picture of my bumblebee plushie and send it to you, just for you <3

Leah - Oh goodness, you’re someone else who I haven’t talked to in a while, as well as who seems to not have been as active as of late. I hope you’re doing okay! I can’t thank you enough for the times you checked on me when I wasn’t okay. You are... so sweet I literally can’t

Meena - You are literally... so cute! You’re super sweet, too! I always have lots n lots of fun whenever we video-chat n talk together! You n Iku are actually the first people whom I met on Tumblr I’ve gotten to video-chat with! Also, your cats are so pure n good I can’t. Please pet them for me if you can! (I love both you and Iku so much)

All my followers - Whether or not we’ve talked before, I love and appreciate all of my followers! According to my Totally Professional Research(tm), I have discovered a link between my followers and cuteness! I have lots of love for each and every one of y’all. Thanks for following me~

2018 has proven to be quite the adventure full of different discoveries, like that I’m very good at horse-riding, that I can spend at least an hour playing with my rattles and other baby toys if I want to, that I apparently have IBS... It’s been quite the ride!

This year has also proven to be the year of growth for me. I’m beginning to stand up for myself and my needs more often, I’ve become more proud of who I am, and each day that passes, I love myself more and continue to become less afraid to be who I truly am.

I can’t wait to see what next year will bring, and what kind of person I’ll become as time goes on. I’m sure my evolution of who I am as a person isn’t quite finished yet. Whatever I become, it’s bound to be wonderful. And most importantly, I get to enter next year with each and every one of y’all.

From my plushies, plush rattles, and I, happy, happy new year! May you learn to love yourself if you haven’t quite yet, your babas/sippies/kiddo cups always remain full of your favorite kiddo drink, and you always have lots of your favorite kiddy/baby things, whether it’s toys, diapies, binkies, or baby food n toddler snacks!

As always, remember to stay little/tiny/small.

#Chloe babbles #Mmph... wanna list sooo many people bu is already New Year's Eve n I forgot to return to workin on this til yesterday #Remember last year when I warned y'all about The Longest Post In The World? That post is nothing compared to this one #No seriously. My computer actually froze twice while I was writing this one. Not kidding #So if you decide you wanna read this be prepared for lots of lag n stuff hee hee hee #Just like last year this'll be my last post on here for the rest of the year. I'll see y'all next year~! (Aka tomorrow hee hee hee)

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dumbledearme · 6 years

Text

chapter one—at least once more

read Child of Land and Sea here

Act I — Storm At Sea

Part I — You are my world, my darling. What a wonderful world I see.

It was not my fault, she repeated all the way home.

Andy couldn't understand how yet again she had gotten herself expelled. For fifteen years she had managed to jump from school to school—nobody ever seemed to think she deserved a second chance. And maybe she didn't.

Whatever they might say about her, one thing Andy was sure of: It had not been her fault!

Yancy Academy; the simple thought made her want to barf. She hated the place and everyone in it. Well, except for Grover, the scrawny boy who cried whenever he got frustrated. He had bad acne, a wispy beard on his chin, and on top of all that, was crippled. Some sort of muscular disease in his legs that made him walk funny, like every step hurt. But she adored him anyway, he'd been the best friend she'd ever had.

Oh, and there was Mr. Brunner, of course. He'd been a good Latin teacher. But he pressed Andy unlike any other, ignoring the fact that her bad ADHD made her brain misinterpret things. It was hard to keep up, and he accepted nothing but the best from her. Like she could do any better than a C-.

Andy scolded herself and tried to focus. It was hot inside the bus. She was sweating like mad. The New Yorkers were busy with their own little lives. Andy sat back and remembered who's fault it had been.

Mrs. Dodds.

The math teacher—who looked like a fragile little granny—had decided to hate on Andy since her first day. She seemed sweet enough, but her death stare could scare the bravest of men. How she loved looking at Andy with hatred, as if she was trying to pulverize the girl with her eyes. Andy always knew the old lady was evil; she just had no idea how right she was about it.

Problem was nobody believed her that the woman turned into a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs. Nobody believed her that the monster was about to slice Andy to ribbons. Nobody believed when Andy swore that at the last moment, when she thought her math teacher was going to murder her, Mr. Brunner arrived and threw her a ballpoint pen that turned into a sword at her touch.

But Andy remembered it all too well.

Mrs. Dodds spun towards her with a vicious look in her eyes. Andy's knees were like jelly. Her hands were shaking so violently she had trouble raising the sword. Mrs. Dodds flew straight at her and Andy did what she had to do, what little she could do. When the metal blade hit Mrs. Dodds' shoulder it passed clean through her body as if she were made of water. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the stop, leaving nothing behind. Andy was left alone. Nobody was there but her. Her and the ballpoint pen in her shaky hands.

After that they all had tried to convince her with lies. They kept saying, over and over, that she had imagined the whole thing, after all, there had never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy! Andy almost believed them. Almost. But Grover couldn't lie to her. Whenever she asked, he would tell her there was no Mrs. Dodds, but he always hesitated first. She knew him all too well.

Then she heard a queer conversation between Grover and Mr. Brunner.

"... a Kindly One in the school!" Grover had said. "Now that we know for sure, and they know too—"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing her," Mr. Brunner had replied. "We need her to mature more."

"But she may not have time. The summer solstice deadline—"

"Will have to be resolved without her, Grover. Let her enjoy her ignorance while she still can."

"Sir, she saw the..."

"Her imagination," Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince her of that."

"Sir, I... I cannot fail in my duties again," Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Andy alive until next fall—"

A shiver went up Andy's spine and she returned to the present. She shouldn't dwell on these things, but she couldn't seem to focus on anything else.

The bus stopped at a red light and she glanced out the window. There was an old fashioned fruit stand in the street, with good looking cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots. But there were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks Andy had ever seen. The lady on the right knitted one of them while the lady on the left knitted the other. And the lady in the middle held an enormous basket of blue yarn. They all looked so ancient and bizarre Andy was surprised they could still function out in the world.

Suddenly, the three of them glanced over at Andy at the same time.

Her heart raced. They were definitely looking at her. The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors and cut the yarn dramatically, still watching Andy who didn't understand what was happening but thought everything seemed strangely significant. She wanted to go out there and ask the ladies what that meant, but the light chose that moment to turn green.

The bus drove far and soon Andy could no longer see the three old ladies.

Andy walked into her mother's little apartment hoping she would be home. Instead, Smelly Gabe was in the living room playing poker with his "buddies". Without hardly looking up, he said, "So you're home."

"Where's my mom?"

"Working. You got any cash?"

Andy couldn't help showing her disgust. Not only did he smell pretty bad, but everything about him was repugnant. He had about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp as if that made him handsome or something. She almost barfed all over him.

"I don't have any cash."

He raised an eyebrow. "You took a taxi from the bus station," he said. "Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. A girl expects to live under this roof, she ought to carry her own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"

One of the man watched Andy with sympathy. "Come on, Gabe," he said. "The girl just got here."

"Am I right?" insisted Gabe.

"Whatever," Andy dug some dollars out of her pocket and threw at her stepdad. "I hope you lose." And she rushed out of there into her so called room that now was mostly Gabe's storage. "Home sweet home," she whispered sitting on the bed. Gabe's smell was almost worst than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds.

Andy sat there without moving for a long time, until the door opened and her mom called softly, "Andy?" Immediately, Andy felt good. That was the effect her mother had on her. It was like she only saw the good things about Andy, none of the bad. "Oh, Andy!" She hugged her tightly. "I can't believe it." Sally sat beside her on the bed and proceeded to tell her how much she had missed Andy. Sally wanted to know everything about everything, that was how much she cared. But before they were done, Gabe called from the living room.

"Oi, Sally—How about some bean dip, huh?"

Andy gritted her teeth. Sally pursed her lips. "I have a surprise for you," she said. "We're going to the beach."

Andy's eyes widened. "Montauk?"

"Three nights. Same cabin."

"When?"

She smiled. "As soon as I get changed."

Then Gabe appeared in the doorway. "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

Andy wanted to punch him, but Sally said, "I was on my way, honey. We're just talking about the trip."

Gabe's eyes got small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"I knew it," muttered Andy. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," her mom said evenly. "Your stepfather is just worried about money. But Gabriel won't have to settle for bean dip. I'll make him enough seven layer dip for the whole weekend."

Gabe softened a bit. "Maybe if you hurry with that..." he said. "And if the kid apologize for interrupting my poker game."

"Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot and make you sing soprano for a week—"

"Andy!" warned Sally.

"What? Why do you put up with this guy?"

"See how she is with me?" complained Gabe.

Sally glanced at her daughter; they locked eyes for a minute. Andy sighed. "I am so very sorry I interrupted your incredibly important poker game. Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrowed. His tiny brain was probably trying to detect sarcasm in the statement.

Unable to, he turned his back and left.

The cabin was on the south shore way out at the tip of Long Island. Andy loved the place more than anywhere else. Her mother had been going there since before Andy was born, there was where she had met her father, whoever he was. Sally never talked about him. But now, as they sat together on the porch watching the waves, it seemed impossible for Andy not to try at least once more.

Her mom's eyes went all misty.

"Please," Andy urged. "Just talk to me. Say anything."

"He was kind," Sally shrugged, but didn't stop there. "Tall. Handsome. Powerful. But gentle, too. You look a lot like him," she added and Andy smiled. "I wish he could see you. He'd be so proud."

The smile vanished from Andy's face. "Why? What's so great about a dyslexic, hyperactive fifteen year old with a D+ report card, kicked out of school for the ninth time in nine years?" Surprised, she felt the tears streaming down her face. Weird. She didn't know she had that grudge inside her.

Sally opened her mouth ready to argue, but Andy wasn't interested in that. "How old was I?" she asked, suddenly. "When he left?"

"He was only with me for a summer. He didn't even meet you."

Andy felt a sudden rush of anger. She felt resentment for a man she never knew. He'd left them and now they were stuck with Smelly Gabe. "And you're going to send me away again?" she asked. "To another boarding school?"

"I don't know, honey," whispered Sally, her voice heavy. "I'll have to see about it."

"Because you don't want me around?" Andy said and a stupid sob followed. She couldn't control it. She missed her mother so much.

Sally came closer and embraced her child in her arms. "Oh, Andy, no. I—I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

"Because I'm not normal?"

"You say that as if it's a bad thing... You don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy would be far enough away. I thought it would be safe."

"Safe from what?" Andy asked, exasperated.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," her mom said. "They told me it was a mistake. But there is only one other option, Andy—the place your father wanted to send you. And I just... I just can't stand to do it."

"What? The guy never even met me but wanted me to go to a special school?"

"Not a school. A summer camp." Andy felt her head spinning. "I'm sorry, honey. But I can't really talk about it. I couldn't send you to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good."

"But... if it's only a summer camp..."

Suddenly started to rain. Typical movie rain, out of nowhere and bringing the world down with it. There was this weird noise approaching. Andy lifted her head and saw a figure in the night, coming towards them. She got to her feet. Sally did the same.

When the figure got close enough, Andy exclaimed, "Grover?"

But it wasn't him exactly.

"Searching all night," he gasped. "What were you thinking?"

Sally looked at Andy in terror. "Andy," she said, "what happened at school? What didn't you tell me?" But Andy was frozen eyeing Grover, not comprehending what she was seeing.

"Oh, it is right behind me," he yelled. "You should've told her!"

"Doesn't matter," Sally decided with authority. "Both of you, in the car, NOW!"

Grover ran for the Camaro—but he wasn't running exactly. He was trotting because where his feet should be, there were no feet. There were cloven hooves.

#andromeda #andy jackson #fem percy jackson #fanfic #genderbend #dfcrosas #storm at sea #child of land and sea #the little mermaid #disney #sally jackson #grover underwood #kristen stewart

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loveloveloveeeeeee · 3 years

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my struggles with studying

I find myself devoting my time and what motivation I have to things that just don’t matter. I’ve memorised maps of the US, Europe, Scotland and Ireland. I took up interests in religion and astrology, buying crystals as if they were coming to save me like all the TikToks say. I’ve taught myself bits of piano, British Sign Language, chess, Teeline shorthand and Morse code, just to give up. I even made it to 100 days on Duolingo learning Scottish Gaelic before I stopped that too. Engrossed in wide varities of things that I’d love to be great at, abandoning it because I’ve decided I’m bored.

#studyblr #study #studying #i dont know what im doing :)

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lanyearn · 7 years

Text

Bolt of Zeus - Chapter One

Look, I didn’t ask to be like this.

I didn’t walk into Wal-Mart and buy what kind of life I wanted. I wish it worked like that.

It doesn’t.

If you’re reading this because you think it’s some fantasy world made up in the mind of an author: good. Don’t believe in a word I say.

But, if you feel something inside you wake up… Run.

Run far away from this book and don’t turn back. Believe whatever your mom or dad told you about your birth. Believe them when they say your other parent, the one you never met, is dead or left. It’s only a matter of time before they feel it too, and then you are a fugitive, on the run forever.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

My name is Percy Jackson, and my life is an absolute trainwreck.

Sure, I could start anywhere in my life to prove it: the fact my father had left me and my mom behind to fend for ourselves, the bottomless list of school’s I’ve been to, the weird things that happen in my life…

But, it all went downhill a few months before I turned 13, back at Yancy Academy for Troubled Students.

Am I troubled?

Apparently so.

In all honesty, most things that happen to me wasn’t all my fault, but of course the blame gets put on me, so…

It was a cool May morning, which would have looked nice if I wasn’t on a neon yellow school bus with 50 other kids that were also troubled. And, above it all, I was sitting right behind my arch nemesis – Nancy Bobofit.

Bobofit was this midget of a girl with a temper as fiery as her hair. She had bright orange freckles dotting her cheekbones and nose, papery-white skin, crooked yellow-and-brown teeth, and the sickliest green-brown eyes to ever exist. On top of that, she was a kleptomaniac girl who adored picking on my best friend Grover.

At that moment, Nancy decided that she was going to throw pieces of cauliflower and ketchup peanut-butter sandwich at Grover’s hair, where it got stuck in his chocolate locks.

“I’m going to kill her.” I grumbled and went to get up, but Grover pushed me back down with his crutch.

“Perce, it’s okay. I like peanut butter.” Without looking back, he dodged another piece of flying doomsday sandwich.

“That’s it.” I went to turn around, but Grover put his hand on my shoulder.

“Percy, you know what’ll happen if ANYTHING goes wrong on this trip.”

This ‘trip’ was the school’s idea to get us out of the halls of the boarding school by sending us 50 miles away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Manhattan, New York.

Brilliant idea, I know.

Of course, I’m infamous for things going wrong on field trips. In 5th grade, last year, I had accidentally blown up our school bus at Saratoga Battlefield. I wasn’t aiming at the bus, but with my luck I hit it anyways. And the year before that, in 4th grade, I accidently leaned against the lever of the catwalk at Marine World’s shark tank. Needless to say, we all went swimming with some very shocked sharks.

And the year before that… Well, you get my point by now.

But still, Grover was the most picked on kid at school (other than me, of course). He was a crippled kid who constantly limped when he walked (but don’t let that fool you. He can put up quite a run when it came down to enchiladas for lunch). He always wore jeans that were two sizes too big, and shoes that obviously were too loose. His face was littered with acne, which hinted he must have been held back a few times. A mustache and beard was creeping onto his face in patches, but the school didn’t allow razors so there was nothing he could do about it. He had this weird nervous laugh, almost like bleating if you cup your hands around your ears enough, and he cried easily.

Naturally, I was his only friend.

Because of this, everyone picked on me too. I was fine with being picked on – I looked strange in the first place. My hair was pitch black with a deep red hue to it when it was in the light, odd eyes that weren’t quite green, but also not quite blue – almost a sweet-green with hints of mint. I was tiny for my age, under the ‘Recommended BMI scale’, whatever that means. I also had both Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder, ADHD for short, and Dyslexia. I spoke with a slight British accent – though I’ve never left New England. I barely made a passing grade in any given class on any given day. I didn’t even have a father for the sake of sanity.

‘Lost at sea’ my mom told me every-time. ‘Left before you were born.’

I love my mom, really, but I never believed her when she said that. But I never had the heart to ask any further because she’d get all misty eyed and stare off into the distance.

“That still doesn’t mean she can pick on you like that.” I sighed. “It’s not fair that the headmaster threatened me with detention if anything happened on this trip. Nancy should be getting detention for this.”

“Percy, I’m fine, really. It’s just a sandwich.”

“You’ll have food stuck in your hair all day.” I gingerly picked a piece of white-brown-and-red goop out of his curls and wrinkled my nose. “Who even likes this combination?”

Grover laughed and shrugged in response, another piece making its way into his hair. I was about to get up to punch Nancy in the face, when the bus screeched to a halt in front of the museum.

The bus driver announced we had arrived, and that we all must calmly leave the bus.

Nancy stuck her tongue out at me and got up, leaving in the crowd.

Looking back on it, I wish I had decked her in her crooked teeth. It was much better than the mess I was about to get myself into.

My Latin teacher, Mr. Brunner, led the tour.

He didn’t seem like much, at least for a guy in a wheelchair – thinning brown hair the shade of coffee beans, a thin brown jacket 3 shades lighter than his hair, white undershirt, a fedora that matched his brown eyes, all complete with an African tribal blanket over his legs. He had Middle-Eastern toned skin, much like a creamy mocha colour, and he looked around 45. He smelled like sweet cinnamon and hot chocolate, though I’ve never seen him around either of those things. He was a very strange man.

You’d also wouldn’t expect him to own a ton of Roman and Greek style weapons and armour hanging up in a classroom filled with trouble-makers.

He was the only teacher I enjoyed. He had tournament days where he carried around this glowing bronze sword and said, “What Ho!” while he waved it around. It’s rather silly, a man in a wheelchair the same length as his sword, but he was always so happy and content with it.

He guided us through the maze of a museum, discussing each display in the Greek exhibit. It blew my mind that this stuff had lasted 2 thousand - 3 thousand years, just to be put in a Pine-Sol smelling museum. The orange and black pots, or what’s left of them, collecting dust while the modern world learned little of its rich history.

Gosh, am I really that depressing?

Right now, Brunner was going on about the images on the grave marker, a stele, which typically told the stories of Greek myths. The stele was dedicated to a girl around our age who had died giving birth to a child.

It was quite interesting to learn about, but I could barely hear what he was saying over the snickering crowd of fifty 12-to-13 year olds.

Every time I snapped at them to ‘shut up’, I’d get a glare from the other chaperone and math teacher, Mrs. Dodds.

Mrs. Dodds was a 50 year old widow from Georgia who looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She wasn’t tall, maybe 5 feet max, but her black eyes were those of a hungry wolf – devilish and ready to strike out at a moment’s notice. She always had her thinning blonde hair in corn rows or in weaves, even though her scalp was littered with peeling white skin. She always wore black-hued, brown leather jackets and beige jeans (even when those two things do not match at all), and she had this tendency to call anyone in trouble, “Sweetheart”.

There were times I doubted she was even human. It all began at the beginning of the term, when our old teacher, Miss Reatherite, had a seizure and was forced into full time medical care. Mrs. Dodds was her newest replacement, and assumed Nancy was a pure angel whilst I was the spawn of Satan himself.

She’d point a crooked, pale white finger at me and say “Now, Sweetheart,” anytime I spoke in class, and I knew I was going to be up all night with detention.

The worst I ever had was erasing answers written in workbooks by the thousands of other student who had previously used the books. I told Grover right then and there: “I don’t think Mrs. Dodds is even human.”

“You’re absolutely right,” was his reply.

Instead, I tried to listen to what Mr. Brunner was explaining, until Nancy snickered something about the naked guy on the stone, which was when my patience popped like a bubble.

“Will you just shut up?”

That came out louder than I thought it would.

Silence rained down thickly amongst the group and Mr. Brunner wheeled around to face us.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Mr. Jackson?”

I felt flushed, my cheeks probably bright red.

“No sir.” I grumbled. Mr. Brunner smiled softly.

“Could you humour me by telling me what this picture is?” My heart fell.

He gestured with his pen to a carving that was dead centre on the stele.

I blinked, my mind filled with lottery-sounds. I actually knew what this one was

“That’s Kronos. The titan who ate his children.” I stood up a little straighter.

Mr. Brunner nodded. If he wasn’t paralyzed from the waist down, he would probably of been tapping his foot in impatience for a longer answer.

“And why did he eat his children?”

I frowned and wracked my brain for the answer. “Well, he was king god-“

“God?”

I cursed myself silently, then corrected, “Titan, not god.”

Mr Brunner nodded in approval.

“He was king titan, after overthrowing his father for the throne… His father told him that one day he would fall at the hands of his own children. Kronos became paranoid and ate his children to prevent this from happening. When his wife, Rhea, gave birth to baby Zeus, she gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. Zeus was, like, her 6th child and she wasn’t too happy about her husband eating her children.”

Snickers had arisen in the group, but I was on a roll. “When Zeus grew up, he decided his father was ruling unfairly and that he should be overthrown. He fed Kronos a mixture of mustard and grape juice, which caused him to throw up-“

“Ewwwww.” The girls cringed and scooted away from me.

“-the other 5 children in order from youngest to oldest. A big fight between the titans and gods erupted, the gods won and casted the titans to Tartarus. They sliced Kronos into a million pieces with his own weapon as punishment for the unfair judgement of his children.”

“Oh please, as if we’d ever need to know all that in real life.” Nancy whispered to her friend. “No one’s going to put ‘Please explain why Kronos ate his kids’ on a job application.”

“And to answer Ms. Bobofit’s excellent question, Percy, why would we need to know something like this is real life?”

His voice got deeper, the way it does when he asked the most serious question of the day.

“Busted.” Grover glared at the red-head, who was also red-faced from sheer embarrassment. At least Mr. Brunner got onto Nancy too, it made life a little more bearable.

“Um…” I bit down on my lip. “Maybe to explain the phrase ‘what goes around comes back around’?”

Mr. Brunner nodded in approval. “You get 10 points extra credit on your next test. Zeus did, indeed, overthrow his father with the help of his five siblings. This is a perfect example of karma, since Kronos and the 4 titans of the compass rose also overthrew their own father. He regurgitated his 5 other children, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter, Hades, and Hestia in this exact order, with using a mixture of mustard and wine. On this happy note, it’s off to lunch we go. Mrs. Dodds, could you please lead us out to the front?”

So with the girls holding their stomachs and the boys making bets that they wouldn’t puke if they were fed mustard and wine, we filed out to the front.

Almost all of us.

“Percy?” Mr. Brunner called out to me. Grover smiled at me and trudged his way outside, his crutches grinding together in a ‘chickeeek, chickeeek’ sound.

“Yes sir?” I turn around and look down at my Latin teacher.

“You did well, though, I expect better, especially from you.” His brown eyes looked like they had lived a thousand years longer than his body had.

“Sir, I thought you sai-” I stopped. Mr. Brunner raised his hand up.

“What I teach you is very important. You might disregard it as just a lesson, but I need you to realize that everything I teach you, everything I expect of you… I do only because it is a matter of life and death.”

I wanted to get mad. Mr. Brunner has been expecting me to do 100% perfect 100% of the time. ‘Go write down the 100 most worshipped gods of Greece, starting with number 100 and leading up to number 1’. ‘Go list the names of the monsters Perseus and Heracles fought’. God forbid if I got one question wrong on a test – he’d give me a long, sad look that made me want to ask for extra credit. It infuriated me that I couldn’t read because the words kept floating off the page, or the fact I couldn’t sit down to read in the first place because I had a nasty habit of pacing rooms.

But I couldn’t get mad, not at Mr. Brunner.

“Yes sir.” I mumbled. He took one last look at the stele, as if he knew the girl personally, then guided me outside to join the rest of the group.

“Hey.” Grover looked up at me from the ledge of the fountain. The glops from Nancy’s sandwich were long gone from his hair, and it was wet as if he had washed it off in the fountain.

“Hey.” I plopped down next to him.

“Detention or something?” Grover murmured.

I shook my head. “Never from Mr. Brunner. Just a pep talk about how I needed to take all this seriously. I wish he would lay off my sometimes. I’m just a kid, I can’t be perfect 24/7.”

I put my head in my hands, propping up my elbows with my thighs.

Nancy was over near a group of adults, slipping money out of their wallets without anyone ever noticing a thing (seriously, how blind were those people, not noticing a red-head orange-freckled girl right next to them). Some boys were traumatizing some pigeons with the ‘cheese’ from their Lunchable packets, pelting them at the birds where the neon orange pieces would stick to their feathers. It was rather sad, that those pigeons were being treated so badly, but if I ever told them to stop, Mrs. Dodds would give me a look that said ‘I will wring all the blood out of you like you wring water out of a towel.’

After what seemed like an eternity in silence, Grover looked back at me.

“Can I have your apple?”

I blinked in shock. I thought he was going to say something deep and philosophical to bring me up from the mental hell I just dragged myself into. Instead, I just nodded and he took the apple, then he happily munched on it. I watched the storm advance on us in the distance, lightning grumbling impatiently, as if the clouds were stuck in end-of-workday traffic.

The weather all around America had been fritz-y since the New Year’s Eve. Everything from 100 degree weather in the Dakotas in the middle of January to below 0 in April at Miami. A 5.0 earthquake rippled its way through Oklahoma just last month, then the next day there was a series of tornado outbreaks in the same exact spot. It was almost as if the ground, sea, and sky were having an epic battle to-the-death and we, humanity, were stuck in the middle.

Seeing all the weird weather made my stomach churn. I felt more sick more often and no one knew why. I would get aggravated on days where huge disasters would happen (even before they actually happened), almost as if I had a third eye that predicted the future.

That day I felt like the world just turned itself upside down, and something really bad was going to happen.

Never had I been so right in my life.

Just as I decided to try to eat something from my lunch, Nancy decided that she wanted to torment me and not those poor adults she just robbed. She strutted over to the fountain, which Grover and I were at because we really didn’t want to be seen by the other visitors as a part of that school, and dumped the rest of her satan sandwich into Grover’s lap.

“Ooops, so sorry.” the amount of sarcasm in her voice made my blood boil. “Didn’t see you there, my bad.”

I blew my casket right then and there. Screw what the counselor tells you, taking 3 deep breaths and counting to 10 won’t help anyone’s anger. In fact, release it, it’s not healthy to hold in emotions.

“Why don’t you just go drown yourself in the fountain, Nancy. Save both of us the trouble of seeing your disgusting face.” I snap at her, forcing all my emotions into my voice. I don’t know why I did, but it just felt right to.

Big mistake.

Nancy’s face went completely slack and she fell forward, face-planting directly into the waters behind me. People gasped in shock, then ran forward to see if she was still alive after a few seconds. Grover scrambled to get up, away from Nancy.

I couldn’t register what just happened. All I saw was the horror on people’s faces.

“What just happened?”

“Did she just listen to him!?” “Is she okay?”

Someone pulled Nancy out of the water.

Mrs. Dodds materialized in front of me, her eyes glittered with complete glee. The grin on her face was devilious, as if she had been waiting for this moment to happen all semester. Nancy gasped out, water pouring out of her mouth.

“Percy… Percy pushed me!?” She sounded like she wasn’t sure what just happened, and that was the only thing that her pea-sized brain could’ve thought of.

Mrs. Dodds hurried over to Nancy and made sure she was okay. Promised her new clothes from the gift shop, making one of the boys give her his jacket to wear for warmth, etc. etc.

Then she turned on her kitten heel to smirk at me.

“Now sweetheart-”

“I know, detention for a month.” I grumbled, and looked down at my shoes.

Gasps rippled through the crowd of 50 that had pooled around me and Nancy.

“You never guess your punishment.” I heard someone hiss in crowd. “He’s doomed, I tell you. Doomed.”

“Sweetheart. Come with me, now.”

“Mrs. Dodds, I pulled her in.” Grover’s chin trembled with fear, making his voice shaky, but he limped to my side. I couldn’t believe it. Mrs. Dodds scared the living heaven out of Grover, and yet there he was, taking the blame for me. “She dumped her food in my lap and I got mad. Percy didn’t do an-”

“Grover, sweetheart, you didn’t pull her into the fountain. Percy pushed her. You’ll be staying here.”

“But-”

Mrs. Dodds glared at him and he shrunk away from both of us. He glanced at Mr. Brunner, who had parked himself on a ramp with a red umbrella and a Charles Dickens novel. Naturally, he wasn’t seeing anything, much less acknowledging the fact something had happened at all.

“Thanks man, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Sweetheart, now.” Mrs. Dodds snapped, then she turned and made her way up the steps. I followed her, glancing back one last time at the group when I got halfway up the steps. Some people were holding up three fingers and whistling, the way they did in the Hunger Games. Whether or not it was a joke, I couldn’t help but feel dread pooling in my chest, like I was walking to my death. When I glanced back at Mrs. Dodds (who I swore I was right behind), she was waiting impatiently at the entrance, as if she had been standing there for a full 5 minutes.

How did she get there so fast?

‘Maybe your ADHD is acting up again,’ a little voice of uncertainty whispered in the back of my mind.

My counselor had told me recently that it was common for people like me to ‘fall asleep’, when we zone out and next thing we know, we missed something important. Like a puzzle piece of the universe had fallen out of place and I was left staring into a void of nothingness.

I didn’t think that was it though.

I rushed up the stairs, assuming that Mrs. Dodds was going to make me buy Nancy something nice and expensive at the gift shop.

I should have turned and ran to Mr. Brunner, since both teachers should have been involved in this.

Only, I literally had no idea what was going to happen, all I knew was I was in big trouble, probably expulsion-worthy trouble. 6 schools, 6 years, and going on 7.

Lucky me.

When I got to the top of the stair, Mrs. Dodds wasn’t there. She was all the way at the end of the corridor, easily 100 feet away from me.

How…?

I didn’t think. I just followed silently.

When I had finally caught up to my math teacher, we were back in the Greek Exhibit. It was completely deserted of everyone, excluding Dodds and I. It was the worst feeling in the world - being alone in a room with a teacher. The way she looked overall would be enough to give me heart-failure.

She’s a teacher, she can’t hurt me… Right?

But something pulled at the back of my mind. The way she glared at the statues of the greek goddess at the edges of the room, the growl forming in the back of her throat…

“You’ve been giving up a lot of problems, Sweetheart.” she purred, keeping her hungry gaze set on the King God, Zeus.

“Y-yes ma’am.” I shifted nervously. I felt like an animal trapped in a cage, looking for a way out. I was safe, but still… something told me to run.

“Did you really think you could get away with it?”

“No- no ma’am… I shouldn’t have pushed Nancy.”

She turned around slowly to face me.

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t care about that. Tell me where it is, and you can live.”

Wait… live?

“Miss… what are you-”

“Time’s up.”

I should have ran, but my legs weren’t working. Her face morphed into that of a fig - wrinkled, dried, and glistening with a purple hue. Her leather jacket melted away and wings grew out of her back, looking like the jacket was just scraped to make it. Her clothes turned into layers of black cloaks, tattered and covered in dried, cracking blood. A whip curled onto the floor, appearing in her right hand. She looked like she was just pulled out of a horror film, complete with cornrows of hair beaded with glowing blue spikes.

I stumbled backwards, unable to believe my eyes. She bared her fangs.

“Where is it!” She screeched. Her voice sounded like millions of tortured souls were speaking at once, wailing for freedom. Yellow fangs flashed in the light, black blood oozing out of her mouth like a stream after a storm.

Then something even more strange happened. Mr. Brunner, who had just been sitting outside happily indulging in his book, was at the entrance behind Mrs. Dodds (or whoever she was).

“What Ho, Percy!” a gold and purple object flashed through the air - a gold capped purple ballpoint pen.

Only, when I caught it, it wasn’t a pen. It was a glowing bronze sword - the one Mr. Brunner used every testing day (aka tournament days).

“Die, Sweetie.” The creature who had use to be my teacher flashed her whip towards me. Out of sheer fear, I shifted the sword to my left hand and swung it with all my might.

TSSHHhhhhhh.

She was a sand castle in a power fan. The minute the sword connected with her torso, she erupted into a cloud of white dust. A wail of defeat echoed through the halls, and Mrs. Dodds was no more.

There was a gold and purple pen in my hand.

I was all alone in a museum exhibit.

There was white powder all over me.

Did I… did I just hallucinate?

I took a deep breath in, holding back a sob.

What was going on with me?

It felt like forever, but I slowly made my way back outside and down the steps.

It had started raining, fat droplets of icy-cold water pelting everyone outside. Mr. Brunner was still on his ramp, engrossed in his book. Grover was over by the fountain still, holding a map over his head in attempt to keep his hair dry. Nancy was still soaking wet from her swim in the fountain, grumbling with her friends. When she saw me, she sneered.

“I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt.”

I blinked and stopped walking, pivoting my body to face her. “Who?”

She rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Kerr, our teacher, you idiot.”

“I’ve never met a Mrs. Kerr in my life.” She just glared at me and turned away. I stumbled back to Grover.

“Hey… Have you seen Mrs. Dodds anywhere?”

“Who?”

Grover looked at me, his head tilted to the right.

“Mrs. Dodds. Our math teacher. About 5 foot tall, cornrows. Leather jackets…”

“Percy, I- I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

He hesitated. I felt angry again. My best friend was lying point blank to my face.

“Dude, this isn’t funny. Where is she?” I pushed the anger down. Last time I got angry, Nancy almost drowned herself. I couldn’t loose my best friend to that.

Grover shook his head and I stormed off towards Mr. Brunner.

What was going on with me?

“Awh Percy.” Mr. Brunner looked up at me when I was within 5 feet away from him. “How may I help you?”

“Sir, where is Mrs. Dodds?” I steadied my voice.

Brunner bookmarked his page with a blue and pink metal bookmarker that said ‘Never a day wasted when a good book is involved’ “Percy, my dear boy, I haven’t heard of a Mrs. Dodds before.”

“But sir-”

“Percy, maybe we need to get you back to the nurse’s office when we get back to school. And please, next time bring your own writing utensils.”

He held his hand out expectantly and I looked at it, confused. My eyes flickered down to the pen I had forgotten I was holding. Slowly I hand him the strange pen.

“Sorry sir.” I mumbled, then turned back around to walk back towards Grover.

Was it really just some weird hallucination?

#sol tag #son of love #seagurl3 #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #pjo fanfiction #percy jackson and the olympians

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