#this has the same energy as the ‘except for Jesus’ line

[jonismitchell]

Top 5 opening lines! (can be from a book/a poem/a song)

this is such a good question.

'happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.' from anna karenina by leo tolstoy. everyone knows this line. i cannot stress how much everyone knows this line. i mean, i introduced this book to a class of high school students last year in a russian lit seminar i was running, and everyone knew this line. it's the thesis statement for all of anna karenina. it's a succinct statement about the world. i think we've discussed how good this opening line is before, but there's a reason i kept trying to read the damn book (and eventually actually managed, ha!). the opening line is so so good.

'jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine' from gloria (in excelsis deo) by patti smith, which i think is the strongest opening line to an album ever. as patti herself says it's about freedom! it's about not owing anyone the consequences for your life! which is really what rock music (at its best) is all about.

'nothing's serious when you're seventeen' from romance by arthur rimabud (my french is not exceptional, but the original 'on n'est pas sérieux, quand on a dix-sept ans' is beautiful.) the poem is about how sharply romance can touch you when you're young and i just find this effervescent, unassuming little line such a key part of it.

'i am a sick man… i am a spiteful man. i am an unpleasant man.' from notes from underground by fyodor dostoyevsky. my mum bought me a mug with famous first lines from literature on it for christmas and this is by far my favourite. it immediately lets you know the tone/energy of the story, but entrances you into reading. dostoyevsky's style is literally incomparable.

'if you are interested in happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book.' from the bad beginning by lemony snicket. which has the exact same energy as notes from underground, come to think of it.

#bybdolan-main #amy* #sorry for how long this reply is #asking with you

[aerodaltonimperial]

pipeline punch

Pairing: Hook/Max Caster Rating: T Warnings: None, except that I am, myself, a warning Prompt: Two people reach for the last bottle of the same drink in a gas station fridge.

It’s pretty easy to figure out when the roster descends upon any given location, because the nearest accessible sources of sustenance are nearly immediately wiped out, and today is no exception. The only Sheetz within walking distance looks like it’s been ransacked following the zombie apocalypse: all empty shelves and barren refrigerators, straight out of some B-grade horror flick. It’s a minor miracle that there’s a single energy drink left within the metal rings, even if it’s the most obnoxiously berry flavor, and Hook opens the door to reach for it in autopilot because he’s so fucking tired after getting delayed in O’Hare again that he can barely make sense of what’s happening around him.

Which is why he doesn’t notice the other hand reaching into the fridge at the exact same time. Fingers clamp down around his prize, bare skin that jolts him back into reality, and he whirls to find himself face to face with Max Caster.

“Let go,” Max says, all business.

“You let go,” Hook hisses.

“Oh, ho!” Max exclaims. His eyes have lit up, which sends alarm bells off in Hook’s head. “He does speak occasionally.”

Hook is way too tired to deal with this bullshit. “Let go, Caster.”

And Max leans way, way too close, grin wide and blinding. “Make me.”

“I will kill you,” Hook says, and boy does he mean it after the day he’s had. Of all people to tempt fate by poking a sleeping bear…but then again, he might get some real pleasure in beating the smile off Max’s face.

“Resorting to threats?” Max tilts his head to the side, studying Hook, but he very definitely does not let go of the Monster can. “Kind of a one-trick pony, aren’t you, Hook?”

Hook sighs. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Not a single thing,” Max replies. Cheeky. “Actually, there’s not much here to do at all, since every other person I know has decided to go to the gym, and now there’s a waiting line just to get on the leg press.”

“Maybe you could just use your ego as the weights,” Hook tells him seriously. “It seems big enough, anyway.”

“Ha!” Max throws his head back, laughing, and—come on, that was supposed to offend him, not make him laugh. “Fuck, that’s funny. Still not gonna give you the drink, though.”

“Caster,” Hook says, and yes, he’s aware that his voice is dangerously close to a whine, but in his defense, O’Hare might actually be a hellmouth. “Give me the damn drink and go away.”

“No can do, Hook-aroo. You see, I find myself with a pretty desperate need for some caffeine.”

Okay, Hook is really going to punch him. “Get something else. Go find a coffee shop.”

Max shifts. His grip on the can is somehow better than Hook’s, and maybe that’s the whole exhaustion factoring in; Max tugs the can out of the empty fridge and Hook has to scramble to keep his own fingers wrapped around it. He is not giving this up. He needs one win to keep the day from being a total and complete disaster.

He growls. He knows it probably won’t scare Max off, but whatever—feels good anyway. “Let go, Caster.”

“What'll you give me?” Max asks.

“Nothing,” Hook tells him, and then, amends: “The ability to keep living.”

Max grins again. God, Hook hates it. “You’re such a sourpuss. C’mon, make it worth my while.”

“What, you want me to pay you for it, and then pay the cashier again?” Hook snorts. “Fat chance.”

“Aw, what’s the matter?” Two of Max’s fingers clamp down over Hook’s, tight enough to pinch his skin against the metal. “Trust fund baby doesn’t have the money?”

Jesus Christ, it’s like he wants to die.

“Are you always this fucking annoying?” Hook seethes.

Max laughs. “Oh, normally I’m so much worse.”

Hook can believe that. He tries jerking the can closer towards his chest, thinking maybe he’ll catch Max off-guard and gain the upper hand, but all it does is pull both the can and Max closer to his position. Shit. “You’re an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one,” Max shoots back.

Oh my god… “What are you, five?” Hook gives the can a shake, which is seriously going to backfire if he’s the one who ends up with it. “I’ve had the shittiest day, just give it to me.”

“And this canned monstrosity is going to make your shitty day better?” Max scoffs. “Aim higher, at least.”

“You’re one to judge. How’s hanging out with Daddy Ass?”

“Oh!” Max exclaims. The glint in his eyes gets sharper. “Wow, that’s not dripping with disdain at all. Tell me how you really feel, Hook. How’s being all alone with no friends because you’re so insufferable to be around?”

Okay, that stung, and maybe he deserved it, but still. “You literally don’t know anything about me.”

He expects an argument, but Max gets kind of quiet. Thoughtful. “You know, you’re right; I don’t.”

“Right,” Hook says, although…it’s not really a retort. He’s a bit thrown, now, off his game.

“So let’s say I want to,” Max tells him. “Tell me something about yourself, then.”

What? “This isn’t fucking happy hour, Caster.”

“I’ll say. People normally don’t make faces that grumpy at happy hour.”

Hook’s back to wanting to punch him in the nose. “You are easily the most annoying person I’ve ever talked to.”

“That’s not a high bar, though, is it? You don’t talk to anyone, so there’s like, what, five people on that list?”

“Caster,” Hook says. Pleads. “Please.”

“Let’s go, then, Hook,” Max says, and is it Hook’s imagination or has his voice dropped significantly? They’re close enough that Hook could easily sock him in the face if he really wanted. “What’s it gonna be? Give up? Or give in?”

“Give in how?” This is so fucking frustrating. “All you’ve done is stand there and run your mouth.”

“Tell you what,” Max says. He tugs the can, and fuck, Hook’s sneakers tangle up together, propelling him forward farther than he wanted to stumble. They are toe to toe now, close enough that Hook’s got an uncomfortably close look at the mirth in Max’s eyes. “I’ll make this even easier for you. I’ll give you the drink, and I’ll just take what I want in return.”

“I’m not giving you the FTW belt,” Hook replies, automatically.

It’s insulting that Max laughs at that, too. “In what world do you think I want your belt? How would that even be a decent trade?”

“Then what do you want?”

Max’s tongue creeps out, pressing into the corner of his mouth. There’s kind of a stretched moment of nothing that Hook thinks is actually something, something monumental that he’s managed to miss. Like most things, really. The whole thing just serves to double the frustration in his stomach. If he could not be doing that…thing with his face, it would be great. Hook’s tired. His thoughts are a mess. He just wants to go to his room and not have to deal with people anymore.

“What,” Hook says, flat, when Max fails to answer his question. He’s trying to be as uninviting as possible, and it’s infuriating how little it seems to be working.

“I know what I want,” Max tells him. His tone is low, and kind of throaty, like he’s trying to be…wait.

Wait. “Uh,” Hook says, eloquently. Max is leaning closer, like close-close, like so close that Hook can feel the warmth of his exhales. “We’re, uh, in a gas station.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Max’s mouth quirks up, one corner higher than the other. “Why? You wanna go scurry off to the bathroom instead?”

Well, it would be better than standing here, right in front of the damn drink fridges, except Hook can’t get his legs to move. His knees have locked up, freezing him to the ground. And Max is—shit, Max is still shifting in. Hook’s hands tighten instinctively around the can, breath catching.

It isn’t until Max’s mouth is pressed against his that Hook realizes he probably could have run. He could have dropped the energy drink and turned on his heel and left, or he could have smacked Max across the face for getting even a fraction of this close, and he didn’t do any of it, and now they are locked at the lips, and it’s not even bad. It’s actually—ah, fuck, it’s actually good. Max kisses without any of the bullshit bravado Hook would have expected, sort of deliberately but gentle, little pushes of pressure that make Hook want to part his lips, which is, he’s pretty sure, exactly the point.

Well. Shit. Now he’s kissing Max Caster, and the kisses are bordering on really great as Max lets go of the can and instead cups Hook’s face with his palms, and Hook’s closing his eyes because this is the sort of thing he wants to fall into and let sweep him out of his weariness altogether, and did he know Max’s hands were this big, wide enough to cover the whole of his ears?

Ah, shit.

Max pulls back wearing the most fucking smug expression Hook’s ever seen, and that’s saying something considering it’s one of Max’s default looks. Except he doesn’t say anything else; he just takes a step back with that smile still plastered on his face.

In fact, he gets halfway to the doors before he stops. “Three twenty-seven,” he says, twisting around with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“The price?” Hook frowns, confused, because his brain hitched and sputtered and stopped working somewhere in the middle there.

Max grins. “My room number.” Then he flashes Hook a scissoring gesture.

Oh that son of a bitch. “Fuck off,” Hook grumbles, cheeks heating. He hopes no one he knows was in the Sheetz with the same idea of sustenance to see this entire situation unfold. Not even the Monster between his hands could help lessen the embarrassment if word of this got out.

Ugh. The worst thing is that, after Hook pays for the drink without looking the too-amused cashier in the eyes and flees the scene, the damn thing is just as obnoxiously, nauseatingly sweet as he expected it would be, coating his tongue.

And now he can’t stop repeating Max’s room number in his head.

Son of a bitch.

#wrestleprompts #hook x max caster #hookcaster

[lakemichigans]

tlou episode 8 thoughts!!

- man.... joel had the death rattle and everything...

- ellie trying to sound intimidating, i love her sm 😭 as much as i dearly love the "ditto for buddy boy" line, it felt wrong coming from this version of ellie. similar to how in the podcast they said it would've been strange for pedro's joel to say "you're treading on some mighty thin ice", i thought they would go the same route here. it's still cute though

- i love the addition of david being a christian preacher. i can imagine manyyy people only became religious after the world ended, making them more susceptible to manipulation than people who may have already been religious their whole lives. if you don't know anything about the bible except what your preacher tells you, you'll believe anything he says. you're desperate to find meaning and salvation in this cruel world and this guy is offering it to you on a silver platter (haha). finding out later that he just uses religion as a way to justify his own sick brain is like.... so real

- wow, david revealed himself quick. i knew we wouldn't get a super long fight scene with david as our ally like the game, but i expected at least one infected to be killed to solidify their bond before breaking it. that scene felt rushed to me :/

- the way ellie feels so much more comfortable being affectionate with joel because he's in this vulnerable state 🥺 if joel never got hurt, i truly believe it would've taken them YEARS to get to the point where ellie lays next to him and he rests his cheek on her head. being in danger speeds up the realization of "oh shit, there's no sense in building walls between us because it's already too late -- you feel like family to me and it would hurt me if you were gone"

- my god that kill in the basement was brutal. pedro captured the perfect amount of badass joel still on the verge of death energy lmao

- FUCK YEAH OH MY GOD that interrogation scene was literally perfection, i wouldn't change a single thing. my ass was CLENCHED kfjskfjs

- i like that the cannibalism is (kinda) less cartoonish in this version. i REALLY like (and by that i mean i'm very horrified by) the fact that only a few people know they're eating human meat while everyone else is left in the dark. especially the poor wife and child :(

- i didn't think it was possible to make the scene with david and ellie in the cage any grosser but they managed it ??? it was so visceral oh my god i want to kill that man. ellie is so smart and resourceful and it's devastating :( the way david uses her 'violent side' as a way to manipulate her is sick. it's such a typical abuser thing to do: "if you hurt me in retaliation you're actually just as bad as me" 🤢 it's written masterfully. i know that line will stick with ellie for a long time :( i'm choosing to interpret it this way because i despise the idea that the show-runners are implying that ellie truly does have a violent heart and is somehow kin to david because of that. i refuse to interpret it that way, ew ew ew.

- yooooo he said cunt

- i was worried the whole episode would feel rushed but i actually appreciate how it continues to ramp up as joel becomes more desperate to find ellie

- jesus christ.. they really went there.... i know it was implied in the game too but wow. i was in complete shock until the moment joel called her baby girl and then the floodgates opened. fucking hell man. poor ellie fucks sake

- i am so so so so glad that they still allowed ellie to save herself rather than be saved by joel. that has always been so special to me. although i wish ellie never had to live with the memory of killing david, it's so important that she was able to talk, think, and fight her way out of that situation. joel swoops in at the last second to COMFORT her, not to save her. it's perfection.

10/10 episode wow this one was brutal but easily my favorite?? i was on the edge of my seat for all 53 minutes even though i knew damn well what was about to happen. it was the perfect mix of action scenes compounding the emotional scenes

#the last of us hbo #tlou spoilers #the last of us spoilers

[dustedmagazine]

R.E. Seraphin — Fool’s Mate (Take A Turn/Safe Suburban Home)

R.E. Seraphin said of his new album, Fool’s Mate, that “on the surface, they are love songs but there's a suggestion of something more ominous.” To set aside the ominous for a moment, you can get a lot out of the surface alone. It’s an immediate, intricate record that satisfies with or without a deep listen. Take, for instance, the streaming “Lips Like Sugar” grandeur on “Virtue Of Being Wrong,” the warbling bass and sunny trumpets on “Argument Stand,” or the shaggy, shimmering guitar solo on “Fall.” The band displays a sure-handed coherence and magnetism developed and then recorded live – with the exception of piano overdubs. The result is a set of dynamic, buoyant tracks that snap together a wide enough rock and roll tent to encompass Tom Petty, The Clean and a dash of Mark Lanegan Band, among others. Taken as a whole, Fool’s Mate is also reminiscent of Wilco’s Summerteeth, another bright, powerful album with lurid desperation creeping in from the edges.

Seraphin’s voice holds the center, bending lines into hooks. It’s a quality he shares with great power pop annunciators like Michael Stipe and Matthew Sweet, though, as a vocalist, he more so evokes the melodic hush of The Clientele’s Alasdair MacLean, Lloyd Cole’s breathy deadpan or, at times, the muted viciousness of The Jesus & Mary Chain’s Jim Reid. Like Yo La Tengo’s Georgia Hubley, too, Seraphin wrings a great deal of energy and melancholic drama out of his stage whisper. In contrast to the mix of 2022’s more blown-out Swingshift EP, Seraphin’s voice is given a great deal of room on Fool’s Mate. For all the robust buzz of music around him, here Seraphin’s lightly-fuzzed words always stand out. And it’s in both what he says and how that we return to the ominous something underlying everything.

It’s put most succinctly on “Clock Without Hands” (not a Nancy Griffith cover): “The sun is big and bright but the clouds keep on rolling in” —  just one example of a preoccupation with a gathering storm. If that observation is a good working hypothesis for how the stories on Fool’s Mate are likely to unfold, then it’s the album’s more macabre lyrics that provide the most convincing evidence of how innocent tips into sinister. On the pleading “End Of The Start,” Seraphin twists and abrades familiar moments of pop song romance to grotesque and captivating effect. Rather than get lost in someone’s eyes, the narrator’s love has “a smile [they] really want to eat” and skin that isn’t just perfect, a la Cole, but “glistening” and, further, glistening with a “dew” they “wanna feel.” Consuming, somatic details like these, conveyed by Seraphin’s earnest, stricken delivery, leap up through the album’s gleaming surface to show the human weirdness wriggling underneath, and hint at trouble to come. The brief, sparkling “Bound,” an album highlight, works against type from another direction. Rather than strain against entrapment, the line “no matter what you do to me/I will not be bound” sounds, coming from Seraphin, arch, flirtatious even, a protest that is itself bound to submit, and happily, given the interplay between the song’s characters. Here, for once, the foreboding is stalked by the joyful.

The album closes with a cover of Sinéad O’Connor’s “Jump In The River.” It trades some of the ragged, gleeful openness of the original for a focus and a steady rhythm, driven by a melodic bassline, that foreground the lyrics and, in doing so, create a different kind of intensity. You get the same sense of abandon to a bad idea that O’Connor delivers but from, perhaps, a more calculating place. In Seraphin’s hands, it feels somehow more intimate. Less a fight you’re overhearing than a conversation, or relationship, you might want to get out of. Put another way, “on the surface, [it’s a love song] but there's a suggestion of something more ominous.” In discussing the conception of Fool’s Mate, Seraphin also noted that the “sense of corporeality [was] intended to unsettle the listener.” As a coda, “Jump In The River” completes that welcome intention and bolsters what came before — it’s not hard to imagine “like the times we did it so hard/there was blood on the wall” being a line of Seraphin’s own — and works just as well as an introduction as Fool’s Mate starts over, pulling you back in.

Alex Johnson

#r.e. seraphin #fool's mate #take a turn #safe surburban home #alex johnson #albumreview #dusted magazine #rock #pop #garage rock

[writing-astrid]

midnight feelings

pairing: choi san!nurse x mora (y/n)!college student

word count: 10.6k

summary: both invited to the same party in the changing march, mora meets san—a nurse that also lacks of rhythm to dance—at midnight and under the dim shaft the kitchen light casts on them. it is almost instant their connection, their desire for each other, but mora is experiencing this lust for the first time in her life with this unknown guy, so it would be correct if she follows her instincts?

a/n: welp, hey, there. this is me coming for the first time with an original fanfic, starring none less than one of the demonteez line yet being the sunshine he is, obviously our guy san. hope you enjoy it! lit spent 9 months writing this and i finally could finished it.

don't forget to like and comment! they are much appreciated xoxo

_________________

It was late at night. Saturday was minutes to be history, and I was in my second beer. Chatter came from everywhere, music filling the March breeze running through the house I was in. Lights were off except from the one in the kitchen and the patio. Bad Bunny was on the speaker, and the dancing people were chorusing him. Even I joined them sometimes while standing there, in the limbo between the kitchen and the dining room, holding my beer, careful not to warm it up. The mood was nice and my girlfriends seemed to be enjoying themselves too.

Although they were also shy and not that drunk to be in the middle of the living room dancing with the many faces I’d seen in past parties. The three of us glimpsed at each other before lifting the bottles to our lips. Cami was in her third drink; Niki also in her second—she had bought like four Strongbows and it looked like they were soon to be gone.

“Faster!” Cami addressed me. I looked up at her. “Chug it down!”

I laughed. “One of us has to remove the makeup of the three.”

“None of us will!” Niki corrected. A fun spark crossed through her eyes, and I knew she was joking by seeing how her blue lips showed her flashy, perfect set of teeth. “But seriously, though. Enjoy the night. It’s been a heck of a week.”

“And it’s not even midnight.” Cami made a funny face before taking one more sip. I laughed again and imitated her. The cold liquid made it through the throats when another bop was being played on the speaker. Rompe by Daddy Yankee rumbled on the walls of the living room. Every single soul in the whole property screamed, immediately chanting the catchy beginning.

A circle was made where more people stepped into the darkness of the room to twerk—whether against a partner or down the floor, hard—and sing-slash-shout with no fear of losing a lung. Niki, Cami and I stayed behind like three static security cameras, drinking in their excitement with grins. The amount of people surrounding us flushed our cheeks.

“Holy shit, that’s sick!” exclaimed over the noise a guy on my left. Since I hadn’t noticed his presence, I was oddly amazed to find he was closer to me than what I’d thought. His smile widened to one side as he glanced at the three of us.

Dim light from the kitchen hit his profile, since he was half-facing us. A breath of mine joined the atmosphere when the clothes involving our arms brushed.

“Wish I could twerk like him, but the body Jesus gave just knows how to stand still like this,” he continued. His voice was a few decibels louder than the new verse of the song.

Not knowing which of us he was regarding, I answered, “All mortals like us can do is watch them and steal some of their energy.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, so you don’t dance either?”

“Can’t,” I clarified and deviated my sight from him to the dance floor. But now I knew I couldn’t easily forget his long eyelashes. “My parents didn’t program me to have rhythm when they created me.”

His body prompted toward me, finishing the connection his back had with the wallpaper. Lifted up a hand, eyes on me. Whoever this guy was wouldn’t need to say another word for me to high-five him. His skin warmed our touch.

“They used to tell me a bedtime story about why San—me—couldn’t dance at all. Spoiler alert: the stork that brought me to their garden wasn’t used to dance either.” The tone in his amiable voice made me laugh. The joke coming from his mouth sounded so funny to my relaxed system. “But hey, this isn’t fair. You already know my name. What’s yours?”

This wasn’t the moment to roll my eyes, not when I wasn’t even bothered to play along and follow the path San began to walk in. It actually caused a nice sensation in my insides.

Could’ve been the beers? I wouldn’t know.

“I’m”—I gave a step closer to him and tiptoed. The music boomed against every wall in the house and my voice was a small piece compared to it—“Mora!”

Feeling ashamed, because I practically yelled to his ear, I returned back quickly. I hadn’t expected what he did once I looked up again, though.

He had his lips pursed in a contained smile. Within one of my heavy breaths, he seized the opportunity and bent over my shoulder. “Mora? Isn’t that the Spanish word for ‘berry’?” The words got caught up in my throat, so I nodded. Jesus, his perfume suited him. “What a pretty name. It matches your lipstick.”

I shouldn’t have patted myself mentally for choosing the lost purple lipstick from the drawer.

But I did. I was elated I had.

“Thank you,” I whispered. My attention fell on my friends when they mouthed they’d go to the restroom; I signaled them a thumb up. “My parents were going to name me Monet, but I much prefer Mora.”

I gestured to him to move from where we were, back to the limbo I’d been standing at, where we could talk better.

“That’s because you’re accustomed to it by now. You would’ve said the same thing at some point in your life if your name had been Monet.” He pinched his lower lip with two fingers, as though it was a habit when thinking. “So, Mora, how did you know of this party?”

This time I did roll my eyes.

With a fucking smile on my face. “The host is my friend. You?”

“Same,” he said, his tongue catching and moistening that exact lip. “Though I heard of the party an hour ago or so. Lily invited us at the last minute.”

I went back to leaning on the wall, my eyes shifting from his to the dancefloor and vice versa. The person controlling the playlist really wanted everyone to move. “I’m not surprised.” I laughed with the mouth of the bottle between my lips. “If you’re friends with her, you may know how distracted she can be. I’m not blaming her, though!” I added immediately, before drinking another sip. “She has a lot in her mind with med school already.”

A brow arched above his wooden eyes and then exhaled. “Those good ol’ days. I graduated in December and damn, this ain’t no better than what I’d anticipated.”

“You’re already working?” I asked as I realized I had no clue what he could've specialized in. We were at a party hosted by a future doctor, but I wasn’t studying this and I couldn’t tell by just looking at him. It almost felt like guessing his name.

If he hadn’t told me, I would’ve named him Diego. That dark brown hair and wooden eyes gave off a Diego vibe. Or perhaps I was projecting one of my recent crushes on this San guy.

Both of them had been attractive to me the moment I paid attention to their presence near me. This is a secret, so keep it, please.

“What did you major in?”

“Nursery, actually. Many of these faces are faces I’ve seen daily the past four years.” San grinned in the middle of our eye contact. “I— To this day I still don’t know why I chose it.” And our laughs boomed with a drumming base of the music.

“Nor how you survived through.”

His eyes spread out, like he finally had realized something shocking. “Damn. You’re right, Mora. I keep going to school for my internship, so it feels like my student days haven’t come to an end.”

“Wow. I don’t think we’ve ever crossed paths.”

San dismissed my statement with a shrugging of a shoulder. “But tell me, what are you studying?” He moved aside to let a couple walk into the kitchen. One guy opened the fridge to my right, and by noticing the way he stumbled kneeling down, there was no doubt a single hit would send him to the floor; I grabbed the handle for him.

The other guy had halted in front of the stove, looking at the digital clock on it absent-mindedly.

“Translation, actually.” I mocked his voice tone, causing him to free a chuckle.

“Hey, that’s so cool! Many of my friends also studied that. You have to learn a third language, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Then ask them if they can help me. I’m a sophomore, but how I’ve come this far is yet to be known.”

I took another sip of beer while seeing him lift a finger at me, a crease forming between both brows.

A cute reaction, not gonna lie.

“Wait a moment.” I mouthed “Okay” and waited a moment.

And another.

I let go of the door finally.

But yet another.

Until I couldn’t help myself by asking, “What is it?” when he looked like his brain had stopped being functional.

“How old are you?”

My head tilted with tiny confusion curling my lips. “Nineteen. Why?”

He gulped down saliva so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed in a quick motion. I wouldn’t have noticed the moment I turned my sight away from him if it hadn’t been for the strands of hair landing between us like a curtain. My arms positioned as to embrace my torso, the cold, dark glass of the bottle resting on the corner of my elbow.

“I’m sorry I look flabbergasted. Guess wasn’t expecting you to be much younger than me.” One of my brows arched inquisitively, which he decoded immediately. “I’m turning twenty-three in summer.”

I held his gaze during a breath until I stared at the chanters on the couches and muttered, “Damn, you’re indeed old.”

“I’m— Sorry, sorry. I didn’t intend to say it that way. It’s just— You could be my sister’s friend.” San stepped forward and gingerly grabbed the wrist over my ribs as he noted my sulking. His face had drawn a nervous smile when I glanced back at him. “Hey.”

The next series of things occurring were as though the writer of my life had stoned. The couple in the kitchen decided they had had enough of kissing under the light and, thus, stumbled their way out.

Meaning, they either crossed between San and me or, as the easiest available option and the one they executed, pushed San to me to clear the way for both. They might’ve been a drop away from blacking out, but God wouldn’t minimize their strength.

One arm went to the concrete about my head, cutting him short from mashing my body with the mass of his body.

Both guys staggered behind him. I perceived when they were finally on the other side of the limbo, because my eyes were locked with the thin brown ring of his, and one second to another his background had again the rusty tone of the wall.

San’s perfume melted my insides, causing my breath to get stuck in my throat. I was almost capable of tasting him. In his gaze I found stars and fog, turning into shooting stars at the vibration when regarding my face. But when his chest stretched at him grasping for air, I had to control myself from raising my palms and touch him. Heat ran through my veins and never from where San was holding still my wrist—a countdown for me to ignite when it arrived in my heart. 

I could’ve burst into flames at his proximity. And the worst of it all was how little I cared. I’d gladly become ashes if I could have him this close again.

Exhaling shakingly and lowering his arm, careful not to hit me, San stepped back in slow motion. It seemed, by the flush on his cheeks and oscillation of his lashes, that he felt torn apart. Especially when our skins broke contact. My rush of adrenaline ceased and my breathing took wing—I believe the medical terminology would be “hyperventilation,” but the spot-on person to know if I was hyperventilating for a ridiculous reason was San, not me.

My hearing focused on the irregular beating heart drumming in my head. San regarded me with a teeny-tiny smile, bare visible yet there. Maybe trying to reassure me—nonetheless, I couldn’t bring myself to answer him. My brain was processing so much information I noticed his gesture five seconds after, when it proceeded to waver and vanish.

Then, and out of nowhere, before my vocal cords could produce any kind of sound, Niki materialized on my side, grabbing my hand and exasperatingly asking if I could call her. It had been a while since she used her phone and now didn’t remember where she’d left it. The noise made it hard for me to understand it all in one go, but once I assimilated the thread of words, and as Niki began to drag me out of my spot, I glimpsed back at San and his dark eyes and contrasting reddish t-shirt.

My heart begged to leave my chest as I said, “Sorry. I, uh— I’ll be back.”

Niki eventually brought me with her after he responded with hefty eyelids and messy hair, “Yeah, no worries.”

Worrisome crept through my skull and hung from my ribs, and fucking used it like a swing. 

San disappeared from my sight when we meandered left, walked past the queue to the toilet and through the main door. I found Cami sitting in front of a beautiful scarlet bougainvillea, using the edge of the concrete planter as a bench. Her also scarlet hair and crimson lipstick suited her so much my mouth wouldn’t shut up when I first saw her earlier.

“So how did it happen? When was the last time you used it?” I asked, cheeks flushed by the different first-experiences I’d had.

Cami furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

I was already on my contact list searching for Niki’s number the moment she herself placed a hand between the screen and my sight. “Well…A white lie doesn’t hurt anyone, does it?” She giggled, and Cami and I exchanged looks.

“What did this girl tell you?”

“That she lost her phone— Bitch, it was a lie?”

“In my defense, you were suffocating in flames there. It looked like you really needed some air, so I had to think fast.” Niki took a seat next to Cami and let go of a restrained sigh. “But air aids fire. Instead, I thought some watering should do you good.”

My brows erased the “Distance” entry from their dictionary. “Watering? What do you mean?”

“It’s going to rain. I can smell in the air.” Niki lifted a shoulder as it was nothing. Then grinned.

“Liar. You checked the weather app in the morning,” Cami reprimanded her with a soft shoving to the side. Her attention returned to me, and gifted me a reassuring smile. “So Mora, my girl, what was all that?”

Darn Cami and her devious gestures.

“Did you—?”

“Yup.” Cami popped the “p” and the way I heard it was as though she had enjoyed it. I glared at them, agape and sensing static crawling under my skin. “Everything.”

“Oh, God.” I didn’t know the many times I repeated myself in my pacing out of madness, but when I came to a halt, Niki and Cami had their eyes focused on me.

“We were taking care of you. We don’t know him, Mora,” Niki explained carefully, delicacy in her eyes.

It took me a few seconds to comprehend them, but I nodded. She was right. I also would’ve taken care of both if they had been in my position—talking to a stranger in a party where obviously, we were the vulnerable ones.

“What did you see?” I inquired secretly, trusting they would understand the real intention.

They glanced at each other, as in remembering better, and pondered in silence. Niki stretched her legs and crossed them again afterward. “He wants to kiss you so bad. More than the half of the time you’ve talked, he kept his hands on the pockets of his pants. And y’know what that means.”

“And when he noted he’d grabbed your wrist, the expression he made…like it also was a surprise to him for reacting in that manner.”

“Damn, and the way he approached to touch her,” Niki squeaked. “Please don’t let me know if I hallucinated because I couldn’t have gotten butterflies from my imagination.”

“Niki—”

I gasped, silently feeling comforted that I wasn’t making it up either. “You didn’t,” my voice managed to formulate.

I didn’t feel attacked at his attempt to reduce space between us. His grasp had been tender and hot around my skin, being mindful that the gemstones in my bracelet could easily hurt me if put more pressure on. Not even I’d been that attentive to it; for a reason I continuously ended up stabbing myself when doing anything.

“Then what did he make you feel? Are you comfortable around him?” Cami questioned with her mom-like tone.

I pondered an adequate answer while evoking our conversation and how he adventured to start it. In front of me, both girls squawked.

“We’ve lost her!” they yelled, and I had no other option than to shut them up with a slap on their laps. Their giggles caught the attention of the people in the garage, provoking my face to paint as maroon as the flowers behind my friends looked in the shade.

“We’ll keep eyeing you, okay?” The corners of Niki’s blue lips curled upwards. “Now you may return with your man.”

It is fair to say she deserved this second hit, at which she remained impassive notwithstanding. “He’s not my man, idiot.”

But then she challenged me with a threat. “You’ll be sleeping on the freezing floor if we leave this party and you’ve got no action.”

“I wouldn’t even be sorry I’ll be taking your place on the bed, Mora,” Cami seconded her with a smirk too.

“At times like this is when I seriously ask myself why and how you gained my love.” Biting my lip, I stomped my way back under the same rhythm of my erratic heart. The last thing I heard from outside were their devil laughs, and, to my great surprise, a thunder that silenced for a beat the music from inside.

It saddened me for a second that I’d missed the twisting of the lighting in the closed sky.

To be completely honest, I don’t quite have an idea of how I arrived back to the kitchen with my mouth filled with beer and my bottle hanging now empty from my fingers. I did somehow, and without any inconvenience the beer went down my throat, still cold and bitter. I trashed the bottle and moved to the fridge to open my last one.

While trying to find our box of beers, I also pathetically attempted to shy away every thought related to San. What we talked about, and what could happen next.

However, it was impossible.

I was intrigued, and my mind wouldn’t stop inquiring. When I stood up, my eyes roamed through the room and its feeble lighting. My eyes plummeted on a group of guys on the patio, talking and laughing. San was there, from his fingers dangled a lit-up cigarette whereas his other hand held a beer. A warm yellow shaft fell on his features, and I could see a threat of smoke emitting from his lips.

When I raised my eyes back to his, he already had been staring at me. He raised the cigarette back to his plump lips as soon as he exhaled the puff. His t-shirt stretched with his breathing in, but I couldn’t look away.

We stared at each other, inert on our feet while people danced their way between us.

San didn’t return to the mass intoning Danny Ocean even when the rain broke the skies and poured outside. And I focused on other things to forget that I had a clock right behind me. Cami and Niki pranced tipsy through the hallway to the living room and, at last, joined the crowd. I found another friend in the party, and drank half of the bottle with her, mumbling into nonsense as I accepted the alcohol in my system.

More lightning and thunder echoed in the heavens. I would like to say that was the reason I’d look outside the window door so frequently, and not because of certain someone whose heavy stare I felt on my body, making like a path of burning tingles, from time to time. Although it was impressive how him and his friends were still in the patio even when rain began pouring slightly.

A part of the night clicked by lively with the three of us attempting to twerk, making us company when going to the toilet—thank God neither needed help inside the restroom—and trails of screen’s lights, manes, and shirts roaming around.

The speaker had played perhaps four or ten songs by the moment I finished my drink and my phone vibrated in my hand from a text. It was my brother at two a.m. asking if we were going to need him to come for us since rain had gotten heavy in the last five minutes. The house was just a pair of streets away, but I pondered on the answer while making my way to the countertop to grab a glass of water. I bent to fill the red cup, and unconsciously left the chat open, so hearing a voice next to me was a huge startle that got me hitting in the crown of my head.

“Your boyfriend?” San had asked, and caused my scene of humiliation. “Oh, shit, are you okay?”

“I hope so.” I chuckled and massaged the area that was throbbing.

Seldom are the times I promise things, but I swear I had my eyes closed the moment I faced the voice. That, until another pair of hands cupped my hand and jaw, leading me to stare widely at his eyes, surprise plastered on my features and in my heartbeat. There were so many questions I wanted to formulate—how could you make me feel things so soon? Who are you? Who will be you tomorrow morning?—while mingling in his voice and smell.

Blame the alcohol crashing in my bloodstream, but if I were to turn into thin dust at this exact second by formulating them and continue talking to him the rest of the damn night, I knew I wouldn’t fucking mind.

Before I could hear his questioning inside the walls of my head, my vision lowered to his mouth and plump pink lips. He’d pursed them once again. This occasion, near the yellow kitchen shaft, their shape reminded me of the buttons of my shirt—round and fleecy, absorbing the dim shadows of the room. And my hands wished to do just two things: to bring his lips closer and tear my shirt open.

A shift on his brow in a cocky manner brought me back to the query floating around us. “Does my response matter?”

Not a single beat in when he said, “Yes.”

My hand fell to my side, and along with the motion I swung his skin with me. I blinked. “No. It’s my brother asking if he should collect us since it’s…raining.” One finger of him was grabbing one of mine, loosely.

That’s when I noted his wet hair and the drops of cold rain on his t-shirt, all over his broad shoulders. Two trailed down the side of his neck, and it took all of me not to lick them off.

The point where our skins connected was severely precarious. We’d stop touching each other even at the slightest involuntary movement. It got me in a state of self-awareness and warning, red codes flooding my arteries. I shouldn’t even consider grasping tighter to not let him go.

But he was digging deeper in both my skin and eyes. Each ticking second became harder for me to differentiate if the numbing of my thoughts were his nearness or the drinks perching in my system and fogging them. San was under my touch, in front of my sight, inside my lungs. How could I not have gotten intoxicated by him?

My guts clenched at noticing the sex-themed lyrics of the songs blasting from the speaker. Verses I’d sung my lungs out on my own were stuck within my breath in the back of my throat.

“I shouldn’t be worried then?” His husky voice electrified my veins.

My eyelids fluttered in bewilderment. “About what?”

“You having a boyfriend.” I sensed his smirk prior to swinging down my gaze. Curling the fingers of my free and useless hand, I forced myself to peek at his wooden eyes and maintain my focus there.

Me fighting against myself and these foreign instincts was somehow a ground absolutely virgin—such as I indeed was.

My brain cells had died or extinguished themselves from Earth, as the dinosaurs. Because constructing sentences and foreseeing what could happen only led me to an awkward emptiness in my mind, where not even the noisy murmur of my subconscious would guide me. As though it had turned off, like a radio with dead batteries.

That was when I snapped out of my cage—grabbed my phone, now the screen off, and stepped away from him, shaking my head as the response his frown was eager to hear. Placing the phone in one butt-pocket, I looked in the counter for my previous glass but ended up grabbing a new one to fill with water. It was clearer than the liquid I was drinking that I didn’t want to see what his reaction was.

Never had I been ashamed of never having a boyfriend—or of basically being inexperienced with guys—but now, missing the possible change of his expression would make it simpler to the thumping of my heart aiming to rip my chest open.

When I glanced at San, the creases from his forehead had disappeared. The smirk had stayed, though, and caught something like relief flooding his features.

“I’d never had a boyfriend, as a matter-of-fact,” I faintly said, not knowing what had prompted me to, once half of the red plastic glass was finished. The liquid in it was tasteless, so I was positive it was water.

My body couldn’t take another drop of alcohol.

“I’m calling BS,” San exclaimed in stupefaction.

I grimaced. “Believe me when I say I wish it was. Always have attributed it to the numerous unrequited loves I’ve found myself in. Knowing that nothing would ever go beyond that, perhaps even unconsciously, every single time has made it easier for me to just…unclasp them from me. Or me from them.” A corner of my lips went upwards bittersweetly as I swung in the water left in my hand.

San crossed his arms on his chest and peered the room behind me before asking, “So you’ve had no sex?”

My face flushed and my stomach sank. Didn’t think he would dare to enquiry so directly. “Nope,” I answered sincerely, staring at the countertop. Then at his eyes. “What about you?”

San nodded. “My first time was a few years ago, with my now ex.” He scratched his nape. “Wait, have you gotten to any base?”

That question got me biting back my lip before I could think it through. “The abstract of my romantic and sexual lives is inexistent.” I laughed my usual laugh, with my head falling back and my neck exposing. “Never have I held hands with somebody. Never have I kissed someone. Never have been touched—”

Unlike other situations caused by alcohol, this moment caught me with the surprise that indeed alcohol is dangerous to people like me. The kind that takes too long to say things because we overthink everything. But due to our systems altered and light-feathered head, words would be vomited, slurred, that otherwise would’ve been thought thoroughly in some fake scenario prepared beforehand.

And sharing this information wasn’t in my plans. Although it was too late to mend the mess—San had heard, processed, and comprehended my words.

Feeling my mouth open and close twice, I went mute for a second as I dwelled on what I should do next to avoid the slightest idea in him of stopping our acquaintance. As inexperienced as I was at kissing and being in intimacy with guys, the blood in my veins still fancied his proximity, his attention, his eyes on me and my lips nonetheless.

I was not dense enough to miss noticing how his view swayed downwards, and it wasn’t to admire the purple-ish lipstick fading, even though his eyes locked there for a beat too much. 

“I’m not gonna apologize for speaking facts about me. And if it’s a huge pressure on you and I to be friends due to that and it leads to us stopping our convo, then I guess you may regret it a little. But I assure you in the end it’s gonna be okay; you’ll survive.”

His chortle danced to my ears. San didn’t spare my blood pressure as he let his head hang cutely to one side. “It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to a girl in a party, and you’re easy-going and funny that I don’t think I could let you go just right away.” He snatched from my black-polished nails the red glass. “Besides, I ought to know how come that no one has ever…been inside your walls.”

The rose tint from the beers on my cheeks grew darker as I caught the suggestiveness rolling out of his tongue. But I was riveted on him filling back the cup and sipping next to the spot of a purple lipstick that, in the end, I didn’t relate this new wave of heat to his words.

“What would you do then, if you had the opportunity in your hands?” He returned to my left flank and leaned his hip on the counter. “Would you have sex with someone you’d just met?”

My head shook on its own before the ˂20 sober percentage in my system could process and ponder his question. “One-night stands aren’t really my thing.”

“Oh, that’s good, you’ll be safer. I never have experienced it either, since it is never sure if the people involved are completely clean. Irony would be if a doctor or nurse ends up catching a STD.”

“It may be mainly that, yeah. But just imagine if one of them has a kink that is not of your liking and wouldn’t respect your decision by imposing themself. There must be trust, respect for each other and their boundaries, and—”

“Love?”

The mocking tone in his voice drew my brows together. “San, please, we’re talking about sex. You well know this is apart from romantic emotions.”

He shrugged a shoulder and showed me a wide smile. “It was a dumb question you answered perfectly.”

To continue his joke, I pushed myself away from the counter and teased him with a nineteenth-century curtsy. “It has been my pleasure, my lord.” I finished my little theatrical act and returned my gaze to him, freezing briefly at the smirk that popped into view a pair of beautiful dimples I had tried my best to ignore before.

This bastard had to have it all, hadn’t he?

“But yeah, that’s how things are. Personally, I could never be with someone whom I don’t trust nor connect. Developing these feelings toward someone completely different from you takes a big-ass amount of time.”

While he began answering me, he moved us away from a group of friends that had entered the kitchen and that I was unaware of. “You’re one of those who enjoy suffering thus choosing the hard way, ain’t you?”

I smiled at him, biting my lip quickly to behave as I should.

But being tipsy wasn’t advantageous for the situation. “And you’re one of those who act in a bold manner.” I pointed at his hand wrapping my waist, his warm hand spread immobile against my only layer of clothing. “Not that I mind. Things have felt and been different tonight and somehow…I can’t seem to complain having you close,” I whispered, fidgeting with the ends of my mane.

Two of his fingers, oozing security and softness, placed a few of my rebel baby hairs with the rest, but ended up wandering through the bridge of my nose to a brow and then to my temple until they were brought to a halt in my jaw. His stare exposed his confusion and desire, as it glued for seconds on my features in sheer silence. Not even his breath made it to my ears, much less his heartbeat.

San and I were in a corner of the room, and he acted as if no one else could see us there, standing so close we might’ve as well looked like we already kissed. The purple of my lips was surely smeared, but San wasn’t the reason. 

I wasn’t used to having eyes on me. Under other circumstances, people would take a look over us and gossip about things. However, every single soul in the house was in their own world, I had to remind myself.

I wasn’t used to having eyes on me, although in this circumstance, if by “eyes” meant his, then I think I had no option than to sway along the river.

“The night is young and yet I feel it slipping through my fingers.” San tightened his grasp on my back, inducing me to get a step closer. Our chests had finally clashed one onto the other. “I want to know you more, so talk to me, please.”

It took nineteen years in order to fully acknowledge that my boobs were too small for my liking.

A nervous laughter, another of those that display my neck, came out. Thank God San was holding me steadily, because I could’ve lost balance. “We’re already talking.”

“This is not enough, Mora,” he said with a small smile to the side, a small dimple appearing. “Tell me more about you, your family, your past. I’m genuinely interested in this girl named after one of my favorite berries found in Costco.”

He welcomed my weak fist on one solid bicep.

And San laughed, shrinking his eyes and frowning his brows. His shoulders had also lifted but when the tension left his system, his stare returned to be the heavy, beaming one pouring over me.

I did as requested and we…got lost into our own little world. Exchanged life experiences, dreams and goals for the future, and family situations with their respective inside jokes. Stole two pieces of cake from the fridge and savored them at three a.m. Although San finished what I’d left, since I wasn’t as hungry as him—I had eaten the leftovers of my hamburger minutes prior to starting putting on makeup. He handed me his phone to write down my name on Facebook’s searching bar; I unlocked mine on my other hand to accept him. We laughed, I almost cried and he freaked out a little bit. He held me close, stood between my legs when I sat down on the countertop, or grabbed me again from the waist with one or both hands when his hip was leaned on the edge of the laminate. 

We’d provoke brushes or strokes if for any reason we had finished the prior contact. I sent him signals, mental texts, images of what I was manifesting, because our connection grew and I felt it—as well as I felt a big percentage of the alcohol leaving my body by now, though this wasn’t as urgent as the former.

The clock was ticking, and I had become a bit surer of what I wanted to happen between us. Even with the threat of me sleeping on the floor if I returned home with no action, my mind was made up for a completely independent reason. And that certain reason was thumping as mad as a drummer inside my ribcage and throbbing against other parts of my body. There was no necessity for him to know this.

But before anything else happened, I had to hear the truth from his lips and voice.

“San?” I muttered.

He turned toward me after having searched everywhere for the third red cup we’d lose within an hour. “Yeah?”

“Let me be straightforward and ask something even if I kill the mood.”

San laughed. “Go ahead.”

“You—” I cut myself to breath in. Speaking my sober mind wouldn’t ever stop being hard, ain’t it? “Earlier, you talked to me thinking I was older?”

Not a single second passed when he articulated in a shy tone, “Positive.”

“And you’ve always had in mind kissing me?” God, it’s me again. With the alcohol remaining in my veins, make me look good and nothing-at-all ashamed for interrogating him this way.

His head tilted, and a half curve was formed on his lips. “If the chance came, yes. No one says no to kissing in a party. Just look around. Everyone’s lips are glued to another’s. But knowing this would be your first kiss, I wouldn’t like to pressure yourself into doing something you’re not sure of.”

Well, I hadn’t learned at school which is the best timing to give your first kiss, and even though I wasn’t against the idea of turning this moment into a romantic memory, I’d always wanted to have my first kiss with a boy I liked. Yeah, that’s right. The dream of every girl with pink-colored glasses on.

Truth be told, I’d felt this electricity running through my whole body when San’s eyes landed on mine or studied my face, so it was impossible to deny that I wasn’t attracted to him. He’d been treating me respectfully the whole night, which made me think of him like a safe guy. And he already pledged he’d stop whenever there was a “no” from either his partner or him.

He seemed trustworthy after all the time we’d spent talking and opening about ourselves.

It just was my mind that wouldn’t shut up with all its hourly overthinking, nonetheless. He was older, yes. He had more experience, yes. He knew what he was looking for—which I didn’t know. Did he come to me because he thought of me as a pretty gal or as someone sexy who he’d get something from? Did he see me and couldn’t stop himself from coming over? Or was I the easiest target because I was with my girlfriends and standing still?

And after the sun rises again, with me in his Facebook friends and vice versa, what will be going to happen? Back to strangers, but now with the only difference that he will have become the guy who took my first kiss away from my lips?

Funny thing is, regardless of the overthinking of my mind, I did want it.

I wanted him to kiss me. 

I did crave the shortening of distance between his lips and mine.

I had made my mind that he was the one I’d chosen the moment I started feeling protected in every kind of way. When he didn’t laugh at my lack of experience and romance in my life. When he answered my naïve questions with seriousness, never trying to mansplain what he knew about.

And he might’ve acted all out to get this one goal—to eat someone’s mouth in a party, the most casual thing—but I might have as well. I’m no goddess-looking girl, but I flirted, intended to focus him on my lips by playing with them, posed to look sexier for him to notice the usual cute face everyone sees.

It may be not a lie when I say that we both were lusting for it. To taste, smell, feel each other. Arousal ran under my skin at the expectation, though I still hadn’t answered him. My eyes fell on the closed glass door. And then beyond that, to the darkness of the night and the few raindrops that had lingered enough time on the ceiling and would meet the same spot on the floor.

“Ever crossed your mind that your first kiss would be under the rain?” he asked, silencing my train of thought.

I couldn’t stop a smirk from forming on my face. “Oh, Mr. San, are you asking me if you can kiss me?” I half-joked. I was done. My heartbeat had taken the race thing too seriously and now bumped blood to my body at the speed of light. The weightless breeze caressing the bare skin of my neck was cold.

Or maybe I was too turned on.

Which was weird, because he hadn’t touched me past my hand and clothes. Besides, I had stopped drinking a while now.

Lust really was something else, huh?

“I’m open to the opportunity if you also want to.” He shrugged like it meant nothing, maybe not to put pressure on me, but I sensed his lie under the tip of my tongue. It tasted sour.

“Okay,” I found myself muttering with a crescent smile. “I do. I’m in.”

Best mood-killer ever, by the way.

He gave me a shocked look before questioning me if he’d heard right. I repeated myself. He grinned.

We snickered into the door on his back, into the laundry room. The door shut us in the darkness, and I didn’t care if someone caught us on our way in. This moment was San’s and mine.

“Follow me,” I whispered even though the music beyond the walls could hide my normal voice enough.

“Where are we going?”

I grabbed the knob of a door to my left and unlocked it. I let him walk out first, facing a short corridor that also led to the patio. I knew beforehand not a single soul was outside, due to the rain, so it was the perfect spot for our escapism to sin. “You asked if I wanted my first kiss to be under the rain.” I shrugged a shoulder and intertwined my shaking fingers. “I thought a private place would be better.” San gulped down and nodded.

The lightbulb above us illuminated half of our faces. I kept fidgeting with my nails even when my back hit the brick and its temperature ran through my skin. “I’m nervous,” I admitted in a low voice. I hardly felt the blasts of the speaker on my feet.

“Me too.” San, looking at my hands, scratched one side of his neck. “Are you—?”

“I’m okay. Are you still—?”

Now he cut me off by cocooning my trembling limbs with a hand. “Yes.”

“Okay,” I mouthed inaudibly, rather to myself than to him.

“Okay,” San mirrored. He came nearer, and I had all my back fused to the cement. Both of his hands cupped my face. I was jammed staring at the wooden eyes of his when they blinked numerous times and glanced down to my lips. “Okay, then,” he repeated again, a breath away from me.

I had seen in movies how mouths had to be open, so I did. My lips parted slowly for the first time and for him. The last thing I viewed was him closing his eyelids with pleasure.

Kissing was a weird sensation. Or maybe I’d thought that because he went hard on me, as though he indeed had been wanting to taste my mouth and play with my lips all night long. I tried to keep up with his years of experience by moving them and accepting each feeling the moment was granting me.

He broke our kiss when I wasn’t ready to let go of the sensation. I sighed and opened my eyes; his were two thin lines. Barely. “Wait, let’s do it this way,” he commanded in a clear, hot mumble. My legs wobbled, and I felt like newborn Bambi.

However, starting from the next kiss, he had a fire burning inside him. And I was confused how I could've been the one to light it. Because catching my lips again, San shifted our positions. He was breathing loudly and with effort, though it didn’t cut him short of embracing my waist with his ripped arms and raising me from the ground—like I weighed nothing—a second before placing his solid thigh between my legs. As he was taller than me, I ended up being tiptoed, my upper body clenched against him. And in under the span of one second, somehow, my hands grabbed him from the shoulders even though it wasn’t necessary—his grasp kept tight and firm around my shape.

This time, San enjoyed sucking my lower lip, and gave it a tiny bite prior to kissing me with his tongue meandering in, licking and looking for mine. I was sensing everything so much in every corner of my body that, when I chose to make my tongue dance and fight against his, my hips began rocking back and forward on his thigh. The tension was electrifying, violent within my nerves, and it took all my might to not dip my nails on him.

I could’ve died right there, or maybe I did and came back to life immediately. San was devouring me, leaving no room in my senses to think of anything else that weren’t either him and this moment. I followed his lead and separated to fill our lungs with a scent other than ourselves, but it was hard, especially when what happened the next time I inhaled, I was sent berserk.

We were inches apart, inhaling and exhaling with difficulty. My bottom lip was throbbing and numb when I nibbled it while expecting the next inevitable kiss, but San had planned another trajectory. Contrarily to my shrouded thoughts, San set down briefly his lips on my jaw and, just like that, he was facing my neck. His grip around me got tightened, and it was efficient for me to not fall as I was melting down for him. My hips were still rolling against his thigh, aiding the pulsing spot between my legs, this time a bit more steadily. He left wet kisses and its noises downwards until the base of my neck.

The effect that had on me led me to my head falling back, giving him more space if possible, at the deadly feeling. I wish I had grabbed his hair between my fingers and held him closer, but I didn’t. I could barely feel my limbs.

“You smell so damn good,” he had said with his mouth caressing my sensitive skin.

My eyes were shut, trying to understand what he had said with the feather-like sensation of my head. “Thank you,” I answered finally in a murmur. However, now that I think of it, a moan could’ve been a more adequate response, though.

He giggled his way up, and when I reopened my eyes, he was staring down at me, a smirk showing off his cute dimples. The oscillation of our chests was irregular, and my blood pressure was one kiss away from causing a heart attack.

That was when I recognized the sound of the glass door sliding open. And I supposed he also had, because he grabbed my hand and unclicked the door for us. My mind was hazy and my senses numb, so by some means, I turned on the lightbulb of the laundry room above our heads. Both of us leaned on each door to grasp for the last breath we were interrupted from having in the fresh night air.

I glanced at him, he glanced back, and our laughter filled the tiny space we were in.

“I’m sorry if I came out rude,” he said staring at the ceiling. “I thought you wouldn’t like anyone seeing us kissing.”

“Don’t worry. It’s all good.” I smiled at him, but it was a strange one, because my lips were plumber than usual, filled with fluttering static.

He lowered his gaze and stepped forward, to me, licking his lips. And I spotted desire stacking up in his eyes—his wanting to kiss me again. His hands lifted up to cup my face again, and his towering shape bended on me.

But my hand flew to his thorax to stop him. It worked on his marching, but he kept his hands close to my jaw, a concerned expression welled up from his frown to his pursed lips.

“I’m feeling lightheaded and dizzy,” I confessed and he nodded, the creases on his forehead not disappearing though. I sighed, nestled on his warm touch, and finally dared to stroke the growing hairs of his nape. We were still like this a few seconds while waiting for me to regain back any healthy shade of color on my cheeks.

When I focused on him again, I noticed my eyes had been closed as he’d caressed a cheek and a piercing of my ear. One of the corners of my lips raised on its own. “Thank you,” I muttered after accommodating my weight on my two feet. “I’m feeling better.”

“Really? I’m glad. That, uh— That’s good to hear,” he also spoke in his suppressed, husky tone. His hands fell to his sides and widened the space between us. Ironically, I felt as though air had been fisted out of my lungs.

My limbs, not knowing yet what to do with them, crossed over my ribs. A finger with a mind on its own crept to my lips nonetheless, and like I was at the cinema, watching a movie, my brain opted to show me everything that had happened in the span of the last few minutes. It had been easier to relive it since the room we were in was so quiet, and the chants coming from my back were muffled.

I had to rest on the wood of the door to keep on my feet. “And thank you, San.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could’ve had the chance to swallow them.

He was reclining on the washing machine to my right, his arms tensed for the weight pushing his body straight. His eyes squinted with wonderment. “What for?”

“For making me feel safe. For talking to me this whole time. For being the first guy to ever kiss me.”

“There’s a tint on your voice like we’re breaking up,” he joked.

I shook my head gingerly. “The night’s soon to be over.” I scratched one brow at reminiscing the entire scene once again. “Damn, you’re a good kisser.”

Fuck, did I just say that out loud?

At least I made him bend over, laughing. “Well, thank you. I’m happy you enjoyed yourself. I also did.”

I bit back my lips and beamed at him with a grimace. “I think we should go back. My friends must be looking for me.”

“Sure.” San gazed at me so tenderly I almost begged him to hug me. Almost.

Instead, I opened the door for him and he walked out first. The moment I prepared to bear the rest of the party as though I hadn’t just devoted my first kiss to San, I heard Niki’s voice regarding him. “Have you seen Mora?” she had asked the exact moment I came into her range of view to turn off the light behind me. I caught at most a glimpse of the shape of her brows rising before she said then in a raucous voice, “Oh,” and turned away.

“She knows, right?” San questioned.

“Yup.” I popped the “p” as if it were chewing gum. “She may have an idea.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do, is there?”

I shrugged a shoulder and sighed. I could bet she had prompted to Cami and told her everything now. “You’re right. Anyways, want another glass of water?”

He nodded and stole my opportunity to fill the red glass by snatching it from my hands and doing it himself. Then, he waited for me to drink my sips and was until I had enough when he emptied it. Damn, I just wanted to be taken care of by him a little more.

The night continued. Music thumped each tile of the floor, voices broke by singing to a high note, laughter joined to the mess created. The last message I received from my brother was two hours ago, at 2:18 a.m. when he sent “Goodnight, Loca” instead of writing “Mora” because he had always liked how they rhymed.

I didn’t enjoy it as much as him, but whatever. I left his message unread.

I left San in the kitchen two times to go pee, and each time I returned, he was waiting for me with our red plastic glass between his teeth and on the phone. The second time I wasn’t running lucky, since he was answering to some friends that had come to the party with him. The clock in the stove read 4:44 when I blinked at it in the middle of my yawn.

“I think it’s time for me to leave,” he said apologetically.

“Really? Why?” I wish I had bitten back the words. I feared my voice had the neediness my insides were trying hard to ignore.

“One of my friends is staggering on the sidewalk and another is throwing up in the bathroom from upstairs. They’re at their limit and I still have to drop them off before I get home.”

“Yeah, sorry. It was a stupid question.” I glared down, fidgeting with my nails.

“It wasn’t, I promise.” He raised my face with a grip on my chin. “Thank you for making me company tonight and allowing me to get to know you. I had a great time.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks. “I did too. And if you want to talk, you know my DM is open.”

Please kiss me again.

“Sure. See you, Mora.” San half-hugged me, his arm embracing my waist, and kissed my cheek.

Please make me yours.

“Night, San.” His perfume made it to my lungs and held it in as much as I could.

Please don’t go yet.

His touch slithered from my torso to my arm and then, my fingerprints on his palm disappeared as soon as our mutual brush finished and I was there, hanging and grasping the crisp air. My arm returned loosely to my side, as though he had stolen part of my energy.

I set free my breathing and didn’t risk a flood of emotions at seeing him leave the house, or at knowing which car was his. I channeled my attention to the songs and the few souls remaining. It was a wonder to me how there were only ten of us left when an hour prior the house was crowded and it looked like it was vomiting humans.

The chilly breeze flew through the rooms, so I grabbed and put on the sweater I had thrown to the sofa when we first arrived.

By the moment I encountered Lily, she was drunk and sad at five a.m. She wanted to sleep, but the rest of the guests—us—weren’t leaving yet. So I opted to help her ease her frustration and fetched Niki and Cami. In no time they gathered up their things and the three kissed Lily goodbye.

“I’m sorry,” she said but Niki waved off her words.

“We understand, girl. Have a good night, sweetie.”

“Sleep tight,” I said, and Cami waved a hand.

As the house Niki and I lived in was near, and the rain had stopped from watering wild flowers, we walked past the houses for two or three minutes until we stopped in front of the door of our garage. The streetlight blinked a few times before steading, just right when Niki unlocked the door.

The city was one hour from dawning and yet, everything was so quiet out there. No wind, no clouds, and a dog barking was hardly heard in the distance. I gave it a quick thought to San and if he had arrived safely by now; however, I knew I had better things to think about—than a guy I might never see again—like how to recollect strength to change into pajamas and wipe off my makeup.

And these only were two of them.

Niki and Cami spoke of the fun they had, and I was more than proud, since they’d been my guests. I was listening to the conversation in parts, for I was coming in and going out of Niki’s room, where we were going to sleep all three. Once I had changed into a new set of pajamas in the bathroom and washed my teeth, I returned to the bedroom to remove my little effort of eyeliner, mascara, shadows, and the smeared lipstick.

“—and when that guy did the step of Anita, I almost joined him on the floor. Just facts,” Cami stated and snapped her fingers twice.

“Fuck! If you’ve had, I also would’ve, bitch! Why didn’t you tell me?” Niki called out. Both of her hands rushed to cover his mouth as she noticed she had screamed.

“That isn’t my fault, ‘kay?” Cami whispered.

“What in the world are you talking about?” I expressed in amusement while taking off my glasses and tapping on one eye the remover cream.

They shared a glance I could catch up with since I wasn’t as sight-depraved as Niki. Their giggles boomed in the room, but they weren’t normal ones—these had evilness in their ring.

“You would’ve seen the public show if you just hadn’t starred your own.” I swore Cami had secret horns matching her hair color.

“Her own private show,” seconded Niki, dancing up and down her brows.

“Y’all don’t even know what happened.” Okay, I admit that was a crappy attempt to defend myself.

“But I saw the two of you coming out of the laundry room, somewhat…buoyant.”

“I have to say, Mora, what the fuck? Why, girl, why in the damn laundry room?”

 I raised my palms briefly. “Nothing happened there! Calm down, geez.”

“Then?” Cami’s honey eyes beamed at me. She had on her pajamas and looked more angelic than before. That chameleon girl. “What happened elsewhere? Because that guy? He had laid his eyes on you the moment he arrived.”

Comprehending her last sentence, all my prior thoughts evaporated. “What?”

Cami stared up at both from the individual air mattress Niki had put for her. “You heard right. He arrived at eleven-ish with some other guys, and left their beers in the fridge, but I think you were in the bathroom helping Lily at that time. However, the first moment I saw you catching his attention, we were in the backyard. He was—”

“Standing at the right, with a bunch of other guys, talking, wasn’t he?” I cut in, faintly remembering someone with a red t-shirt in the middle of a circle composed of darker colors.

“Yeah. When we decided to get inside, I noticed his friends outside encouraging him to do something.”

“Fists and all?” Niki deadpanned.

“Fists and all,” answered Cami back within a sigh. “Instead of encouraging him, it seemed like they were going to kill him before he could even try something with you. But yeah, I saw him walk through the door and, as unnoticeable as a tall guy with a red t-shirt could be, he approached to your side. Not ours; yours. He glanced many times to see if you’d noticed him, and got so relieved when he finally stopped at your side.”

The words had caught up in my throat.

“I am witness to this last part,” Niki said. “So when he said something, it was for you to answer, not us, so we let you take charge of the rest.”

“How come I-I wasn’t aware of this?” San had felt attracted to me…way before we even exchanged names? He had been nervous since the beginning? “You’re not messing with me, are you?”

They shook their heads in sync. “You need to check your glasses, hun.” Niki patted my knee with a chortle stuck in her tongue.

Cami and I rolled our eyes. “It just means you didn’t go to the party looking for guys.”

“Speaking of which, I’m sorry I left you on your own the whole night after— Well, after him.”

“What the fuck are you saying? We’re more than happy you also spent a great night, be it with us or not.” Cami smiled widely.

“And we were together, so it didn’t matter to us much. Don’t worry.” Niki put on a black hoodie. “But what’s done is done. Now spill the tea between you two, bitch.”

I didn’t know where to begin with. I had lived so much with him in the span of a few hours that my brain was still processing everything. “We talked, like a lot. He seemed genuinely interested in my life and dreams and goals, so, after I returned inside from your shitty lie”—I glared at Niki and her muffled laughter came from behind the sheets—“we opened up about ourselves. My mind began to produce images that hadn’t happened…yet. But when we were actually living the moment…it was much better, I swear. He kissed me as though he would die otherwise. With tongue too, which was something totally unexpected.”

“Did you like it?” Niki asked.

“I didn’t not like it, but it is a weird sensation having someone else’s tongue inside your mouth, you know? And it was barely the second time we had, yeah, our lips pressed together, so it’d escalated rather quickly to my liking.”

As I ran out of breath, I had the time to regard their reactions. My eyes lifted from my hands to their agape faces.

“What’d you say?”

“Wait a damn minute.” Niki pressed her mouth in a thin line. “Mora, bitch, how many kisses were there?”

Color dashed to my face and the neck he had also savored. And since I couldn’t bring my voice to pass through the knot in my throat, I signaled them three and four. Not even I recalled when it finished one and started the next.

For the following five minutes I narrated my vague memories. I was tired yet still mesmerized by San. Although I still was having a hard time gulping down what Cami had told us.

I left the girls chatting some more about the party to go to the bathroom, but when I stopped at the door, no sound came from the inside. I entered tiptoeing and lay back on the mattress, reminiscing the night in the ceiling once more, because…why the hell not? I was in my right.

It was early in the morning when my eyelids felt too heavy for me to maintain them open any longer.

After waking up, we cooked pancakes at eleven for breakfast with a cup of coffee to energize our dehydrated bodies. The dishes were placed in the sink, and I had a foolish wish for them to wash themselves. At one we put a movie on the TV in the living room and, although I wasn’t paying much attention, I caught glimpses of some scenes. I had spent mainly my time surfing on Instagram, watching reels to help with the boredom that a Sunday afternoon meant.

That, until a bubble with his name on my screen appeared, and I evoked his promise for a kiss under the rain and when we were outside, nothing had poured.

#kpop boys #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #ateez #ateez fanfic #choi san #ateez san #halazia #atz #halateez #ateez x reader #ateez x oc #kpop x reader

[harrisonarchive]

Heyla!! I was reading some Beatles stuff and found out Paul sued the other three, do you have any quotes from George or anything about that time? If not dw abt it!

Ps. I love your acc!

Hi there! The quote that came to mind as pertaining, at least somewhat, to this time period, is the following. There might be more tucked away in other interviews, but for now, here's:

"I [Al Aronowitz] ask George what he wants to say about Paul.

'I don't want to say anything about him, really,' he answers.

At the Brasserie, the tables are all empty except for that handful of fortunate who can afford the leisure of sitting over lunch at 4 p.m.

'The thing about Paul,' George says, 'is that apart from the personal problem of it all, he's having a wonderful time. He's going riding and he's got horses and he's got a farm in Scotland and he's happier with his family. And I can dig that.'

[...]

On the radio, they're playing Paul's album now.  George may be the youngest of the Beatles but his attitude toward Paul is the same as a big brother trying to wait out a kid's tantrum because the kid can't get the candy he wants. He talks about the last time Paul spoke to him on the phone.

'He came on like Attila the Hun,' George says.  'I had to hold the receiver away from my ear.'

It was as if the whole world was waiting for Paul's album and George was standing in its way.

'I don't want to say anything bad about Paul,' George laughs, 'but I can be egged on.'" - The Blacklisted Journalist, Column no. 62, 2001

The following is from Many Years From Now by Barry Miles (1997):

"PAUL: [In 1970] I was going through a bad time, what I suspect was almost a nervous breakdown. I remember lying awake at nights shaking, which has not happened to me since. One night I'd been asleep and awoke and I couldn't lift my head off the pillow. My head was down in the pillow, I thought, Jesus, if I don't do this I'll suffocate. I remember hardly having the energy to pull myself up, but with a great struggle I pulled my head up and lay on my back and thought, That was a bit near! I just couldn't do anything. I had so much in me that I couldn't express and it was just very nervy times, very very difficult. So I eventually went and said, 'I want to leave. You can all get on with Klein and everything, just let me out.' And they said, 'No, we're not going to let you go.' Because Klein had said, 'Look, he produced "Those Were the Days" and stuff.' Like James Taylor, same idea, 'Why let him go?' I remember having one classic conversation with George Harrison, I said, 'Look, George, I want to get off the label,' and George ended the conversation, and as I say it now I almost feel like I'm lying with the devil's tongue, but I swear George said to me, 'You'll stay on the racking label. Hare Krishna.' That's how it was, that's how the times were. I was having dreams that Klein was a dentist. I remember telling everyone and they all laughed but I said, 'No, this was a fucking scary dream!' I said, 'I can't be with the guy any longer. He's in my dreams now, and he's a baddie.' He was giving me injections in my dreams to put me out and I was thinking, Fucking hell! I've just become powerless. There's nothing I can do to stop this rot. So I decided to just get out, but they wouldn't let me out, they held me to that contract.

[...] Paul's lawyers began building their case for the dissolution of the Beatles as a financial entity. Paul had finally decided to sue John, George and Ringo. Preparation for the case took almost a year. Paul was in Los Angeles recording Ram when the case was finally given a court date. PAUL: They called me and Linda back from LA: John Eastman said, 'You've got to be there every day in court.' I said, 'Whaaaat?' But I realised it was make or break. And it was, it really was. The Beatles fortune was on the line. Not just mine, but theirs as well. Which is now how I can look back at it and think, Thank God I did that. If I had not had the nerve to sue them, none of us would have anything now. [...] Even after the other three Beatles changed their minds about Alien Klein and sued him themselves, they did not apologise or express any regrets for all the unpleasantness they had directed against Paul.

PAUL: In one meeting George did say, 'Well, you know, thanks for getting us out of that.' It was just one little sentence recognition of that hell I'd been through. It was better than nothing. But they never said, 'Hey, man, you really stuck your fucking neck out there. You had to sue us!' Anyone else suing the Beatles would have been immoral but for one of the Beatles to sue them, It was almost as if I was committing an unholy act. And I felt very much like that. I'd say it was probably the most difficult period in my life so far. So they didn't actually ever thank me and it would have been un-Beatle-like for them to thank me. Looking at it from the perspective of my age now, we were young. I would say we were children. We were the age of my children now, massively inexperienced in these dealings.

It took another six years fully to disengage the Beatles' affairs from Alien Klein, by which time he and the other three had sued and counter-sued each other, ending in January 1977 with Apple paying Klein $4,200,000."

* * *

Also, thank you for the kind words about this page. :)

#asks #quote #quotes by George #quotes about George #George Harrison #Paul McCartney #The Beatles #George and Paul #John Lennon #Ringo Starr #Al Aronowitz #1970 #1970s #Many Years From Now

[delphiniumjoy]

New UPG Just Dropped

So for context, my lovely roommate @raven-wraith had a bit of a nightcap after work today, and we landed in a new form of divination from her tipsy state of vaguely altered consciousness. Which is to say, she was able to give very distinct bits of information that she wouldn't have known to be true before she said it.

Iron is for protection. Silver is for purification and spirits. Gold is for the divine.

This led to questions of what counts as divinity. Not all deities do, and it's also not a clear line between ouranic and cthonic spirits. Anubis is divine. Hades and Thanatos are not. Aphrodite mostly is, but only certain aspects of Apollo are. The sun is. The moon is not. God is, Jesus is half divine, the Holy Spirit is not.

The other "elements" arrived at here are human, earthly, and essential, with fire and lightning (apparently not quite accurate, but the closest term she could find) as cross-points. Like this:

Except it's also a venn diagram or a spectrum. The idea of one's destiny falls at the intersection of divine, essential, and human, apparently.

Onto destiny, we landed in a place that lines up with what I already personally believed, which is that predestination sets the roadways, but free choice lets you pick a direction at the crossroads.

Also, apparently there is a flavor of sorts that touches practitioners, and almost everyone who could go on to practice magic has it, but it's different for everyone. It's somewhat tied to your greater purpose, magically. If someone who does not have it happens to go on to be a practitioner, they can choose the direction of it for themselves.

Baneful magic works in much the same way poisons do. All medicines are derived from toxins. Whether is will hurt or heal depends on the dosage and the situation.

Matron and Patroness are not synonymous. A matron is a direct guide. A patroness (and by extension a patron, but some people use it to mean a masculine matron) is a "sponsor," offering occasional help or energy, but not direct involvement.

The gods you work with do not have a claim on your soul. Nor do they want it. "What you have is a relationship. That would be a contract."

This is far from everything we talked about, and it's not entirely clear who or what was offering us these words (I know for a fact Lady Hecate was involved eventually, but not all of this was from her), but it's certainly a fascinating experience.

#upg #unverified personal gnosis #witchblr #witchcraft #personal experience

[nicklloydnow]

“But what is sane? Especially here in "our own country" - in this doomstruck era of Nixon. We are all wired into a survival trip now. No more of the speed that fueled the Sixties. Uppers are going out of style. This was the fatal flaw in Tim Leary's trip. He crashed around America selling "consciousness expansion" without ever giving a thought to the grim meat-hook realities that were lying in wait for all the people who took him too seriously. After West Point and the Priesthood, LSD must have seemed entirely logical to him . . . but there is not much satisfaction in knowing that he blew it very badly for himself, because he took too many others down with him.

Not that they didn't deserve it: No doubt they all Got What Was Coming To Them. All those pathetically eager acid freaks who thought they could buy Peace and Understanding for three bucks a hit. But their loss and failure is ours, too. What Leary took down with him was the central illusion of a whole life-style that he helped to create . . . a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers, who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the Acid Culture: the desperate assumption that somebody - or at least some force - is tending that Light at the end of the tunnel.

This is the same cruel and paradoxically benevolent bullshit that has kept the Catholic Church going for so many centuries. It is also the military ethic . . . a blind faith in some higher and wiser "authority." The Pope, The General, The Prime Minister . . . all the way up to "God."

One of the crucial moments of the Sixties came on that day when the Beatles cast their lot with the Maharishi. It was like Dylan going to the Vatican to kiss the Pope's ring.

First "gurus." Then, when that didn't work, back to Jesus. And now, following Manson's primitive/instinct lead, a whole new wave of clan-type commune Gods like Mel Lyman, ruler of Avatar, and What's His Name who runs "Spirit and Flesh."

Sonny Barger never quite got the hang of it, but he'll never know how close he was to a king-hell breakthrough. The Angels blew it in 1965, at the Oakland-Berkeley line, when they acted on Barger's hardhat, con-boss instincts and attacked the front ranks of an anti-war march. This proved to be an historic schism in the then Rising Tide of the Youth Movement of the Sixties. It was the first open break between the Greasers and the Longhairs, and the importance of that break can be read in the history of SDS, which eventually destroyed itself in the doomed effort to reconcile the interests of the lower/working class biker/dropout types and the upper/mid-dle, Berkeley/student activists.

Nobody involved in that scene, at the time, could possibly have foreseen the Implications of the Ginsberg/Kesey failure to persuade the Hell's Angels to join forces with the radical Left from Berkeley. The final split came at Altamont, four years later, but by that time it had long been clear to everybody except a handful of rock industry dopers and the national press. The orgy of violence at Altamont merely dramatized the problem. The realities were already fixed; the illness was understood to be terminal, and the energies of The Movement were long since aggressively dissipated by the rush to self-preservation.

Ah; this terrible gibberish. Grim memories and bad flash-backs, looming up through the time/fog of Stanyan Street . . . no solace for refugees, no point in looking back. The question, as always, is now . . .?”

#hunter s thompson #thompson #fear #loathing #las vegas #raoul duke #johnny depp #books #book lover #folio #nixon #hells angels #folio society

[hoaxwings]

Got a secret? Don't keep it, it'll take you to the grave.

Good evening, residents of McKinley. If you’ll please find your assigned seats, we have a special treat in store for you tonight. As you take your seats, you’ll notice a place card in front of you with one simple instruction, “confess thy secrets or sacrifice thy neighbor to earn entry to leave.”. Go on now, look to your left and to your right. Is your secret worth your neighbor's life? No, no. Don’t try to leave – you can’t. See, we had this planned far ahead. As soon as you took your seats, you were spelled to them until you either sacrificed your neighbor's life or confessed a dark secret. You didn’t think this was going to be a cheery holiday dinner did you? There’s been far too many secrets and not enough lives falling victim for the abundance of supernatural beings here. One way or another, the night will end in our favor. Secrets or blood spilled - it’s your choice. So? Go on now, confess your secret or sacrifice your neighbor. We’ll be watching.

The man scanned the table, there was no way he was getting up without telling a secret. In one table alone they had managed to put his twin, cousin, and not just one but two of his chargers. So his little date with the elders would have to be postponed for another day. So far there was a suicide secret, then a family reunion that didn’t go as well, an individual creating barriers, someone with an inferior complex, and so on. It was not till his family members started to talk that he pinched his nose bridge. His cousin's words were the ones that caught his attention. His entire downhill had started off in a familiar way but he didn’t see the same energy from him. Then it was Fallon’s — in a way he understood why she has his charger was going to be the most complicated one. There was no hope after done what she had. He had been there — except his time out had been in limbo. Till he had managed to capture the elder’s attention for one reason or another.

Quickly, the attention came back to him. What was his move? It was not as if he was going to offer up the knowledge of what he was. Not when he didn’t know everyone's agenda. He knew that eventually, he would have to cross the border with his family members, as he reckon that seeing him sitting there brought just a couple of questions regarding his living status. Disclosing that he was a murderer in front of a mixed crowd didn’t seem like a smart move either. Sev was going to have to give something up.

He leaned back against the chair, letting a sigh out as his mind quickly went through his secrets. Who would’ve guessed he had so many? Once upon a time he had been a quiet simple man trying to get through the priesthood and now he was living a double life — or was it triple? Who was keeping count at this point? It seemed like the most personal thing he had left was going to be the least damaging one to give up. Of course, it would be. It made complete sense. Then when she met his eyes and finished it off, Sev spilled his own, “I hate my parents — and my uncle doesn’t fall too far behind — for disowning me and tossing me aside as quickly as they did. Everyone assumed I went mad and lost my marbles but neither of them ever looked deeper or gave me a second chance. I became trash right away.” It was generic for most, but it his the key elements that had been asked. It was deep and not something he was proud of. The only two people that would know what he meant were his family. How quickly his parents had legally disowned him, moved his body from its proper burial over to lay with criminals. Just like that — one time that he hadn’t fallen in line and been the good perfect alter boy he was tossed. Granter his one time had been a rather dramatic one but Jesus even a serial killer’s parents had stood by them longer than his own. It did little to no difference whether they were his biological ones or not. End of the day the people that had raised him loved him — just made him disappear. “But when it’s time to listen to why they did what they did — I should show grace.”

#muse: sev o'connell #event: thanksgiving

[leonbloder]

Would Jesus Be Welcome In Our Churches?

As a youth director in various churches early in my career, I did my best to listen to as much Christian music as possible to share some of the better stuff with my students. 

There was a lot of schlocky Christian music then (there still is, to be fair), but I have to say that for the most part, the Christian music scene back in the mid-90s to mid-2000s was far edgier, theologically open, and better sounding than the stuff on Christian radio today. 

Artists like the Newsboys, Audio Adrenaline, Supertones, Jars of Clay, Relient K, and Switchfoot were always on my playlist, as well as serious hard rock bands like Skillet, Chevelle, Demon Hunter, Haste The Day, P.O.D., and As I Lay Dying.  

Sadly, Christian music today has been ground down by the dominant Christian culture to the point that pretty much everything sounds the same. The lyrics are maudlin, sappy, and forgettable. 

I sound like an old fuddy-duddy at this point, I know.   But I thought about all of this today after I saw a song by an artist I've always liked named Todd Agnew.  Todd wrote a song called "My Jesus" that I doubt very seriously would get a lot of airplay on Christian radio in our current culture.  

This line alone would probably keep it off the air: 

'Cause my Jesus would never be accepted in my church The blood and dirt on His feet might stain the carpet But He reaches for the hurting and despises the proud And I think He'd prefer Beale St. to the stained glass crowd And I know that He can hear me if I cry out loud

I must confess when I first heard this song, I wept like a baby.  

I wept partly because I'd spent so much time and energy trying to get the churches where I worked to loosen up and be more welcoming to youth and young adults and partly because I was convicted of my pride and unwillingness to truly love everybody as Jesus did.  

My life in ministry has always been informed by the vision of the church I currently serve: To Love God and Love Everybody.  

I have only sometimes done it well, and I'm still learning what it means, to be fair.  But as I look back on the years I've spent in ministry; I can see how that vision has shaped, prodded, guided, and, at times, completely wrecked me--in a good way.  

As I listened to that Todd Agnew song today, I felt myself tearing up, just like I did the first time.  It brought me back to that wide-eyed, hopeful, hair-on-fire young guy who wanted to change the Church with a bigger vision of what it could be.    

A wise mentor from those days once told me that being able to draw a big crowd wasn't as important to God as making a difference in the lives of a handful of students who knew you loved them and came to know that God loved them more.  

It's easy to forget that sometimes.  And it's also easy for each of us to get stuck in the ruts of our comfortable religion and forget that Jesus never wanted his followers to choose comfort over compassion or traditions over true love.  

Bob Goff once wrote: 

When love has an agenda, it isn't love any more.  It's just another program.  We choose to give away love for no other reason than our recognition that people are worth it.

May those of us who call ourselves followers of Jesus have the courage to do so without any agenda except for Jesus' own, which he related this way: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength and love your neighbor as yourself."  

May the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen.  

[prayer-experience]

Mon. 7/11/22

Divine Nature: I listened to a beautiful song by Cece Woman's called Never Have to be Alone. Such a beautiful song. It made me feel as divine as God intended me to feel. Bubbi cut my hair for me. It was a shorter cut than I imagined but I fell in love with it. Crooked from a man's tired finger and a sleepy wife who put off taking care of herself. I began writing again through this log and have found my art again to express in my own words how I see, how God touches me. Marjorie, my friend expressed how she loves the way I use language and perhaps that is a gift God gives me. I wrote a poem called Celestial Moments and she adored the way I expressed creation and doctrine.

God: I listened to a great podcast on people pleasing with a group of ladies. I had judged the woman speaking awhile back on something I heard her say that I wasn't in agreement with, but her words of wisdom were true in my heart and I apologized to the Lord for judging his daughter when he made all. Such wisdom from this woman's mouth.

Repent: Yesterday was an energy battle to relax and stay up at the same time. I understand why I was fully depleted energy wise. My nervous system acts up when I'm trying to engage with others at church. Perhaps what I watched this morning was a window into my own soul. Being untrusting from trauma makes it difficult for me to recieve genuine love or interest from others. I try to cut the cord before they can hurt me. Most times I don't want people to see my struggle up close. Sundays sometimes are beautiful and other times are such a struggle. Not to mention the jitters I get before bed or the simple act of anything waking me up as a light sleeper can keep me up. I should've allowed myself rest. Sleep is such an important part of my life and I have to use my sunlamp and take my vitamins now.

Bubbi: This morning I watched my husband play a game and asked to play one just to bond. It was similar to among us and he commented that he never thought this game was difficult until he saw me try. You basically have to navigate through the fushia colors of an arena like the sport of ninja warriors except these were colors of a bright cotton candy universe with mini among us players the size of the top two thirds of your fingers fumbling around with other web players. I lasted one game then we watched a few episodes of The Flash. There's not alot of things I can watch, but The Flash is one we can both enjoy. I have to catch up to where my husband left off. Bubbi made sure I had breakfast this morning and I cooked his chicken marinating the day before. I also watched my husband get a start on his new treadmill machine. The music was going livening up the senses while a lady took him on a trip outside. This was a Nordic machine. I was proud of his new beginning. He is also going back to counting his calories.

Family: Encouraged my sister to go on a Big Island Trip as she was pondering to do so. This was my older sister that I initially struggled to have a bond with and God intervened and gave me an easier sister to speak with to ease my anxiety and in turn, perhaps my expectation. God opened a door that I could handle back then. Today I felt like a simple message helped boost my heart in the direction I always wanted to go. She made a montage of my baby brother as she held him as a baby to now growing into a teenager dancing for our culture. It was so beautiful. A line in the song she chose was, Where did the time go? It was perfect. My sister has an artistic soul. We used to gives her such a hard time for posting online all the time and taking photos and now those pictures are all we have and I look back and wonder we should've captured more especially with our Grandmother.

Creation: I revisited a song unfinished l created on Jane Manning James a hero of mine during the pioneer age. She was an African American convert to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. She joined the Faith and had many miracles of the presence of God in her life that emboldened her stride to set ablaze her faith and testimony in Christ regardless of the turmoil and opposition she faced inside the church and perhaps internally. She lived during the times the Prophets after Joseph Smith put a ban and restriction on the Priesthood on those of African Descent. Anyone who had a drop of blood that was African were not allowed the Priesthood. She battled with the men and stood up for her individual Worth. She was such a testament to me of Faith in the face of opposition. She was not allowed to board a train because she could not provide documentation that she was a freed slave and so her crew had to walk on foot where the rest of the pioneers took the train. They walked until their feet bled and she called out to God and he healed their feet. She was a good friend of the Smiths and lived with them for a time. She was allowed to be near the Seer Stones. I am unsure if she was allowed to view them but she handled the box that kept them. She spoke in tongues which is a rare gift of the Spirit today in our church. Regardless of this restriction her testimony that the prophets were called of God remained. She had two Patriachal Blessings. In her Latter Blessing she was blessed that she would be known as the Mother of Israel and I wanted to honor her story and her name and Legacy through a song.

[myfriendthedictionary]

patroc specifically has to see this post if also had to also

#AGSKDHSKDUSLSUSAO I FOUND IT A MINUTE AFTER I POSTED THE OTHER ONES.... #So now it is it’s own Other post #anyway the part of me that was raised Catholic is losing it so im shoving this at patroc also #anyway im losing my mind this is just in canon #this has the same energy as the ‘except for Jesus’ line #we are the tigers #watt #watt reese #watt farrah #watt annleigh #annleigh o'daniel #religion tw #ask to tag

[erythrum]

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓

𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘖𝘯𝘦

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧,𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦,𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹,𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘴,𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1.9𝘬 +

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘺/𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

The boneyard was a melting pot, pogues, tourons, and kooks unalike all gathering for one of the last kegger's of summer. This mash together of kids from all over Kildare and the mainland always ended in chaos, it was just a matter of time before shit went down tonight.

Rafe had his arm thrown around my shoulders as we walked down the path to the boneyard. I could faintly see Topper and Kelce downing the cups of pogue provided beer. Didn’t matter whether or not the kooks or pogues could get along, as long as it was on the cut and alcohol was provided, the teens could get along for a limited amount of time.

“Hey y/n! What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving for college this week?” It was Sarah who yelled out to me, running up to her brother and I in her floral printed dress. Rafe’s arm dropped to his side as she came with Topper not far behind.

“Oh I just couldn’t miss my last kegger before leaving, Duke can wait on me one more day.” The two of us embraced in one of those hugs that has you shifting your weight from side to side. I guess she didn’t realize I wouldn’t leave for college for another month, but I was sure she was already too drunk for me to explain it to her that she was not thinking of the right month.

As Sarah was hanging onto me probably a little too tight, Topper was giving Rafe one of those looks that said everything but also nothing at the same time. Like prior knowledge had to be known to understand the context. I of course did not, those two always had some stupid shit planned and I can almost guarantee it had to do with messing up the pogues’ little party.

The sun hung low on the horizon after I had finished my third cup, the colors illuminating the sky so brilliantly it felt like a fantasy. I stripped off my top and headed for the water, the pinks and purples of the sky reflected in its crashing waters. It was so cold, the temperature sent shivers up my body and a familiar rush in my energy. Almost waist deep now, I submerged my body completely under the water. It was always how I remembered it, calm and refreshing.

“C’mon Rafe! Don’t be a little bitch and get in there, I see the way you look at her,” Topper spewed, pushing his friend to have a little courage.

“Man what the fuck are you even talking about?” Deny everything Rafe thought.

“Oh come on dude, you’ve been making please love me eyes at her since the sixth grade, and please fuck me eyes at her since the tenth, when are you gonna do something about it for once? You’ve got a month to make a move, or regret it your entire life,” Topper continued his monologue as Rafe tuned him out, too distracted by the girl, his girl, staring out into the Atlantic like it was calling to her.

His heart was pounding as he made a B-line for the water, a light jog, but not so fast someone would think he’s crazy, or just madly in love. He swiftly pulled his polo over and off his head before plunging into the chilly water. Topper clearly knew whatever he'd said had worked.

I heard him before I saw him, Rafe approached and submerged himself just as I had a few minutes before.

“If we get hypothermia I'm sending you my hospital bills.” He laughed, wading around in the shallow water.

“Oh shock! Rafe Cameron threatening his medical bill payments? I never could’ve guessed!” We enjoyed our few minutes of peace before talking again.

“But it’s basically impossible anyways, you get use to it after awhile, maybe it’ll calm your hot-headed ass down,” I giggled and prepared for what always came next. Rafe pickup me up around my waist, lifting me over his shoulder before attempting to sprint as fast as he could deeper into the water. His hands had been wrapped around the back of my knees for a few moments until he threw himself and I down into the deeper water, both of us completely submerged beneath the surface.

The sun was dipping below the horizon now, and the deep blue of the sky was beginning to envelop the boneyard. We had come up for air, and I began splashing him with the water around us, payback for his antics. Theres no way in hell I’d be able to throw him down into the water too, this was the best I could come up with. The two of us were laughing before Rafe grabbed my arms and twisted me around so my back was flesh against his front. I gave up on trying to fight him off. Instead I just rested against him in an attempt to catch my breath.

“Hey Rafe, can we talk about something?” Oh fuck she knows, he thought. This was gonna be it, it’s going to fuck up his entire plan.

“Yeah, uh sure, like here?” He questioned.

“Maybe not here, I think we’ve got as audience,” he knew she was referring to Topper and Kelce, they were watching from the beach.

"The truck then?" I nodded my head, not at all prepared for the favor I needed to ask of him.

The sand stuck to my feet as we headed back to where his truck was, the chilly air wrapping around my body. Rafe opened the backseat door and pulled out a towel for me, always prepared. He pulled the passenger side door and I slid into the seat, the heat of his car pumping through the interior. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure if his was too. We made it about halfway to tannyhill before speaking.

“Soooo,” he said.

“You’re going to think I’m absolutely crazy, Rafe," I laughed in an attempt to hide my nervousness.

"First of all, you're already crazy, and second of all, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what you're going to say," his hands were clenching the steering wheel harder now.

""Oh really? You already knew that I was going to ask you to take my virginity?" I don't know why, but I just blurted it out.

His car came to a screeching halt on the side of the road, lunging me forward as he stared in disbelief at the road infront of him.

"Im sorry, what did you just say?"

"That I want you to take my virginity? V-card? Cherry? Damn Rafe how else am I supposed to say it?"

"And," there was a pause in his voice like he didn't believe me, "your being serious, correct?"

“Correct.”

“And, come again? I need to hear that one more time.”

“Jesus fuck Rafe, I’m being dead serious, I want you to take my virginity, what about that is so hard to explain?” It came out as more of a yell than a scream, he took a long sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. He was thinking long and hard, I knew because he always had something to say, and now he wasn’t saying anything at all. It felt like hours had past before he spoke again.

“Why?”

It was my turn for a long sigh.

“Well, I guess I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and I want to do it, but whenever I think about it in my head the only person I can see doing it with is you. You’re the only person I trust enough with my own body, I mean shit,” I had to think for a long time before admitting what came next.

“Whenever someone, you know like Scarlet or whoever, asks about who I’m interested in or whatever it may be, not a single person ever comes to mind except you, it’s like all I see when I look at you is you, everything else is like blurred around you and whenever I think about who the love of my life will be, I always think of you, not some mystery guy that I haven’t met yet.” I didn’t plan for this to be a full confession on how I feel about him, but here I am spilling everything I’ve been holding in my heart for the last three years.

“And I know that sounds fucking stupid I know, I mean we’re still teenagers for crying out loud, but when I’m with you it always feels like I’m home.” I was nearly crying at this point, struggling to get the words out of my chest that had been waiting for so long. He was listening, deadly quiet, and I had no idea what he was thinking for once in my life.

“You know what? Just forget about it, can you take me home please?” I was definitely crying now, it felt like I’d ripped my own heart to shreds. Theres no way he could ever feel the same way about me, he protected me like I was his own blood, not like he was in love with me. My face was nestled into the sleeve of my hoodie as the tears came out. His hands had moved back to the steering wheel now, gripping onto it so tight I thought it might break. The muscles in his forearms almost looked like they were twitching, but he still had the car in park.

He wanted to just grab her and kiss her right now, the girl he'd been in love with since the sixth grade sitting in his passenger seat, her seat, confessing her feelings to him. Rafe knew it was alot for her to ask, but it meant even more to him everything that she had said after her original question. And there was no way in hell he was going to let her get away again.

Rafe reached his hand over to hold onto her tear stained cheek.

"y/n," The bother of them were breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you," it slipped from my mouth and he leaned in to kiss me. It felt like I had a wave of electricity coursing through my body. His hand grasping onto my face as he leaned over the center console. My hand reaching for his chest, his lips on mine as we intertwined with one another. It felt like everything in my life was complete, and the tension has been released. His fingers tangled in my hair.

It was over before I realized it, and Rafe was driving me home. My breathing hadn't normalized in any way, it was like I needed to throw up my heart to get the knot out. I couldn't stop thinking about the way his had felt on me, the way his lips felt on mine, the way it felt for once in my life like I was loved.

"i'll think about it," his voice cracked.

I leapt out of his car as fast as I could with tears streaming down my face. Did he feel the same? Did he not? My brain was spinning so fast I barely made it inside my bedroom door before collapsing. I wrapped myself up in the thick comforter, a heart full of ache and a body exhauster with sleep.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

#rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron #obx smut #obx #outerbanks smut #outerbanks

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.

Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.

I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol

oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao

glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge

oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though

btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here

alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol

anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style

for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”

j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???

wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing

anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol

omgggggg

she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh

so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”

this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this

oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it

I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol

DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING

apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work

!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG

SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all

love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol

but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit

oh shit??!?

how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have

so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little

now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit

oh my god???

thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE

lmaoooo

“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor

anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that

OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG

fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation

OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU

THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT

HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL

(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.

tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)

[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true

meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh

the struggle is real y’all

(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)

lmao holy shit

All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit

so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now

fire is no one’s weakness

-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped

[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]

lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page

what an exaggerated fade to black lmao

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit

[scrolls three more inches down] oh

yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still

anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol

dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate

[monkey puppet meme faces]

OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT

that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that

unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that

high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep

anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol

(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)

ffff

[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]

anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant

-- holy shit??

[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]

LOL WHAT

BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD

“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR

HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY

r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups

remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions

anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels

#bnha 316 #hawks #takami keigo #lady nagant #midoriya izuku #all for one #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #manifesting 317 opening with a slightly modified version of my previous fantasy scenario lmao #'WHADDYA MEAN THEY BLEW UP THE NERD' #that's *his* job #sorry lol I kid I kid

[cozycottagetarot]

Pick A Pile: How Can You Take Better Care of Yourself?

I did this reading a bit different from my others. It’s mainly based on impressions as I’m only using the images and any text on the cards at face value along with whatever else comes to me. So feedback would be appreciated. Another thing is the piles all have intertwining messages so if you feel drawn to two piles, then by all means I encourage you to check them both out.

Paid Readings (I’ll be updating them again)

Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I asks that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

PILE 1

Tarot Cards: 7 of Cups, 8 of Wands, The Sun

Pile 1, the way you can take better care of yourself is by making a decision. With the 7 of Cups I see that you have all these opportunities being presented in front of you but you have no idea which one to go with. I get the impression from the cards that from postponing making a decision or choice, you’re starting to feel the brightness in other areas of your life dim. With the 8 of Wands and The Sun following however, I feel like once you make a decision, results and positive things will happen quickly, bringing you happiness. The Sun has a faint face depicted in it, so I feel like you don’t have to worry too much about unintended consequences. I see this as a sign you are being protected from unintended or unpleasant consequences as a result of your decision. Also, connecting with your inner child may be a way to help you make this decision.

The next cards that came out are: Protection (Call back your power. Cut the cords. Soul retrieval.) Soul Family (Call in your tribe. You don’t have to do it alone.) Anna, Grandmother of Jesus (Seeding the light, laying foundations. Divine plan.) The Ever-Unfolding Rose (Cracked open. It’s happening for you, not to you.)

With these cards I think some of you could be going through a 'dark night of the soul' (read: a very difficult time in your life). You may be feeling like somewhere along the line you’ve lost yourself or your direction as to where you’re heading next in life or what it is you truly desire (any Lucifer fans here because I hear Tom Ellis’s voice in my head haha). You may be asking yourself questions such as 'Why is this the way life is happening? Why me? Who am I even?' But even though it might seem unfair or lacking sense right now, keep in mind that whatever is going on is helping you in some format. Situations within reason of course, using your discernment here is best. It’s truly all about how you tell your story. Another thing is you don’t have to make these decisions on your own. Turn to your family and your friends for help/advice. If necessary, maybe you can seek professional help. If either or those things isn't really an option, you could always try taking some time to nurture yourself and journey inside to help you remember or figure out what’s important to you. When you make that effort to find/listen to yourself outside of the noise of everything else, I think that’s when you’ll find the information necessary to help make your decision.

Remaining Cards: The Hourglass Dolphin (46) — your achievement is only a matter of time. The Three Rhine Maidens (15) — love is a virtue that endure eternally.

The Hourglass Dolphin is all about finding balance between two aspects of your life, typically work and play. Dividing your time and remembering to put EXTRA care into taking care of your basic needs is another thing that’s going to help you find success. I feel like you are in a transitory phase and it really is only a matter of time before whatever darkness that may be clouding your life right now disappears.

The Three Rhine Mermaids talks about a phase in your life coming full circle, and once that happens your hearts desires are going to start materialising in your physical/the 3D.

The North Witch (23) — This card just kind of confirms or reiterates that with patience this dark phase is going to fade.

The Toad Witch (7) —This card talks about gaining wisdom from adversity. Also a secret admirer as well. There were messages of love laced through out the cards but they weren’t clear until now. Similarly, I think this will reflect in your life that after you’ve found stability once things have cleared up, you will find love as well.. or better yet, love will find you. Do keep in mind it might not be super quick… maybe Spring or Summer (depending on when you're reading this).

Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Look good; feel good (put effort into looking the way you want), Believe In Yourself, Have a fruit (incorporate more fruits into your diet).

PILE 2

Hello Pile 2. The way for you to take better care of yourself right now is through doing what makes you happy.

Tarot Cards: Ace of Swords, The Sun, The Devil

I actually pulled the Ace of Swords last. Also before I started focusing on your pile while shuffling, the Four of Swords reversed came out.

Thinking of these two cards together, I think you need to pull back and ask yourself if what you’re doing is really the best thing for you. I feel like you guys could be in a really good place right now— at least at face value. The cards have darker backgrounds, except The Sun. I feel like whatever you are doing isn’t really sparking joy inside. Maybe it’s familial or peer pressure related? The life path you’re on right now seems ideal and fulfilling to everyone else, but somehow I feel like deep down inside it doesn’t feel that way. You may feel chained or held back as shown by The Devil. Looking at The Sun and The Devil, they came out together side by side. I feel like this is more family related meaning parents, parental figures or mentors. They may be trying to look out for you by telling you to study a certain topic or take a certain job because it’s safe, when what you truly want to do may be a little bit more risky. So even though you’re playing it safe right now and have things to celebrate, you may not be able to shake the that unsatisfied feeling inside.

The next cards that came out are: Warrior Woman (Have you answered your deepest calling?) Play (Have fun. Celebrate. Don’t be so serious.) Break The Chain (Ancestral patterns. Healing. Rewriting the future.) Transformation (Things are changing at a cellular level. Deep healing.)

All the figures in these cards look like they’re in their power. It makes me think you may be ignoring or avoiding stepping into the energy of your higher self. I kind of had the though fear of backlash pop into my head, and while it is a valid fear, I don’t feel like it’s something you have to worry about a lot. I feel like you need to schedule more time for yourself in general as well. You can’t ‘fight’ for other people all the time, you also have to ‘fight’ for you.

I’m just noticing something about the placement of the cards. Warrior Woman has a sword and is placed right next the the Ace of Swords. Break The Chain is right next to The Devil, and the sun is shining in Transformation and Play, in the same position as the one in The Sun… As I was saying, I feel like you need to just take a moment to connect with yourself. Ask yourself what is it you truly want and begin rewriting your future*.

*This is the part where I let it be known I need people to practice life coaching with so if you’re interested you can message me. 18 years and up only though.

Remaining Cards: The Siren (14) — In the treasure of a day, light is thrown on what could be tomorrow. The Stripped Dolphin (30) Good news, flowing through the ether waves will answer your prayers.

The Siren Is mostly about observation and not forcing connections. The Stripped Dolphin is about good things happening for you, especially by surprise. It’s also about new beginnings in any area of your life. However there’s also a message about not getting caught up in many opportunities, so if you were drawn to pile 1 as well, I see this as a sign to check out the pile as well.

The Silver Moon Witch (2) has a message of being able to see progress by the next full or new moon. However this card advises you to choose carefully when it’s the right time to go with the flow versus ‘swimming’ against the tide. Relating to above, journey inside yourself to figure out if you are taking the right course if action by choosing to stick with the path you’re on versus yelling plot twist and doing something different.

The Full Moon Witch (18) has two sides to it. On one hand you can expect ‘heartfelt’ plans coming to fruition, but on the other hand emotions may be running high and words that aren’t meant may be said. This another one of the moon phases cards, so you may find during the full moon you may have disagreements with your loved ones but once it starts to wane, disagreements may also reach a resolution. I think this relates to the The Silver Moon Witch card as well, so maybe before or during a full moon may not be the best time to bring up anything that may cause a disagreement?

Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Journal, Get Creative, Listen To Music (there may be messages in songs for you)

PILE 3

Pile 3, you guys have been giving me hell from the moment I sat down to pull cards for your reading. From focusing and interpreting to editing. Everything was a mess and I’m assuming you a significant part of your life maybe as well? Or your headspace at least.

Aside from my struggles with your reading, based on the cards, I see you need to focus on yourself.

Tarot Cards: The Chariot, The High Priestess, Queen of Wands reversed.

Starting with your Tarot in no particular order, you have The Chariot, The High Priestess and Queen of Wands reversed. The Queen of Wands is my ideal (you) card. When it’s reversed, I see it as a sign [you] are not embodying the energy of your highest self and/or something in your life is out of balance. Both The Chariot and The High Priestess have black and white polarities, so I see it more as you needing to put yourself back into balance. Something may feel hidden from you, though you’re not really sure what and you want to push forward but it’s just not really happening? On the bottom of the deck is the 9 of Swords which notes to fear, depression, anxiety, etc and is needing to release those emotions. Obviously it can be more complex than it sounds, but I’m hoping you get the idea. Brain-dump came to me. Maybe you need to do a brain-dump and survey/assess your ‘kingdom’ so you can flip that Queen of Wands energy around and allow your chariot to race onward. The next cards that came out are:

The Crumbling (What are you clinging on to?) —> Do you need to release anything? Material items, a goal, a belief, way of life, or maybe just the act of trying to have it all together?

Boundaries (Where do you need to establish better boundaries?) —> Do you need better boundaries with yourself? Habits? People? Enviroment? School/Career?

Share Your Voice (Come out of the cave. Persecution. Expression.) It’s time to step into the limelight, because the world is your stage. Maybe you’ve been hanging back and suppressing who you truly are, but now it’s time to step forward into a new role… a you role. You don’t have to go from stand in actor to lead role over night, but do brainstorm and take baby steps daily to get there.

Keepers Of The Earth (You are not alone. Ancient ancestors stand beside you.) Take the meaning as you will, but I see it as a message to look for support in unexpected places. Maybe it’s an online community of people who can relate to you. Maybe it’s a book, article or video. Who knows, it could even be a friend or family member you didn’t think could relate or help you out. Remaining Cards: The Kraken (38) — Your success and happiness lie within you. The Great Sea Monster (37) — To accomplish you dream plan and believe.

The main theme of The Kraken is release. Good fortune/luck will come to you by delving into your subconscious mind to free the conscious. Returning to nature and the things that bring you inner joy. Good fortune coming in small waves which eventually grow into big ones.

The Great Sea Monster is about taking action and again, freeing your conscious mind by looking into your unconscious mind. Also there is more than one way to solve a dilemma, you just have to search the right way. The Immortal Witch (4) — new beginnings are happening for you, and your desires are on their way to you although it might not appear so currently. (Kind of like planting a seed. It’s growing though we can’t see it until it burst through the soil). The Fairy Ring Witch (9) — mental and physical communication. Connecting with or making friends with similar skills or talents. Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Tend to yourself, Slow and steady, Get creative, Read a book (maybe a self help book relevant to what you're going through).

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a picture #tarot reading #pick a pile reading #pac #pac reading #ariesmoontarot

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Do you have any autistic Scout headcanons? :P

Hell yeah!

I’ve actually thought about this a lot. A lot of people might think that Scout has ADHD, but I think he either has both ADHD and autism or just autism.

This is both because labeling Scout as having just ADHD is kind of a low-hanging fruit, and I also want to explore his symptoms a little more. So, in a word, I do, and thank you for asking about them!

*****************

Scout’s Spectrum:

So, where exactly does Scout fall on the autism spectrum?

First of all, he probably has both ADHD and autism, but wasn’t diagnosed with the latter until much later. This means that some of his symptoms were taken into account, but not all.

The ones that were paid attention to ramped up out of control, and the ones he didn’t hear about were stuffed away.

His ADHD symptoms include impulsiveness, need for stimulation, hyperfixations, forgetfulness, and insomnia; his autism symptoms include trouble with social skills, stimming, near inability to remember names and faces, lack of eye contact, hyperfixations again, and sensory processing issues, especially with noise and touch.

He used to have a lot of meltdowns when he was younger, usually about wearing new clothes and the amount of noise his eight brothers generated.

However, he was teased and pushed into masking nearly all the time, and made his whole personality about his ADHD, since that was what everyone accepted.

As he got older, he usually wrote off any autistic tendencies as either his ADHD or just “little habits” of his.

During his middle school years, he used energy drinks to bounce back from being exhausted every day after school. This would work, except those energy drinks would upset his ADHD, and would make it much harder to focus on even basic conversation.

After a while, he got such bad grades and had such a hard time making friends that Scout just stopped going to school altogether.

Baseball helped his focus, and the quick movement and thinking made a lot of sense to him. He never had to wait very long for the next development, and the instant gratification and community it provided supplemented what he never got at school.

With sports on his side, he rarely ever drank any energy drinks (the coach would never let them on the field), and he drank bucketfuls of water during every meet and game. Those teenage years were probably the healthiest he ever was.

However, with the amount of rumbles he got into with his brothers, and the turf wars that constantly raged in those neighborhoods, it was only a matter of time before his crime caught up with him.

After his first incarceration, he was booted from the team, which led to a downward spiral of unhealthy coping mechanisms - which included fighting someone tooth and nail whenever he could.

Even if he lost the fight, it not only catered to his impulsive nature and impatience, but also gave him roughly the same sense of friendship and camaraderie that baseball had.

One thing led to another, and by the time Mann Co. found him, Scout was a monster in hand to hand (and bat to bat) and had racked up quite the criminal record.

A perfect mercenary, ripe for the picking.

On The Team:

Scout very quickly adopted the “stupid, scrappy Boston boy” persona.

It was the only thing that made sense, and it kept him from having to try too hard in both the battlefield and socially.

Besides, that meant that he could be as silly, forgetful, and fidgety as he wanted, and no one would bat an eye.

And if he ever needed to take a break from the team, he figured everyone would appreciate the quiet.

The only thing that ever gave him away was him occasionally dissociating right when battle began, especially if the day had been stressful.

It was usually how he calmed down after a fight when he was young, but now he sometimes slid into that state when he was overwhelmed.

However, a yell from one of his teammates would usually snap him out of it.

Medic noticed this pretty early on, and wanted to look more into it, but Scout would keep making excuses not to get a mental examination.

He would blame it on zoning out, being tired, drinking too many Bonks - whatever it took for people to stop asking.

And, eventually, they did.

Even Medic stopped asking after a while - he couldn’t get a thing out of Scout.

This “try so little that when you do try it’s above average” charade worked for a long time. In fact, it went on for so long that Scout forgot how much he was actually capable of.

He began to internalize the stupidity, the exacerbation, the many comments on how dumb he was, everything.

The only time he ever gave his all was on the battlefield - moving fast, memorizing strategies, doing complicated footwork, knowing exactly how much force it took to crush someone’s skull with his bat.

That was one of the only things that he felt good doing, the only thing he could really work on without him being “found out.”

That and drawing, though he never showed the actual pieces to anyone. It was all stick figures and crooked lines with everyone else.

Sometimes, though, Scout wouldn’t be paying attention and he’d let something slip.

One time, Engineer was looking for his screwdriver, and couldn’t seem to find it anywhere.

Scout, not looking up from his comic, said, “Under the couch cushion, hard hat.”

Engineer bent down and reached into the couch, and his hand came back with his red and yellow striped screwdriver.

“Well I’ll be damned…”

At first Engineer thought Scout had just hid it, but Scout explained, still not paying attention:

“Last time we went out on th’ field, you had it on your belt, like always. But I was walkin’ by your workshop, you were usin’ a quarter to tighten a screw or somethin’. Your screwdriver had to be somewhere between the battlefield and your workshop. Engie, you’re like freakin’ clockwork. Every day, after a fight, you go to the kitchen, get a water, go to that couch, between the second and third cushion from the left, and sit there. Then ya go back to the fridge to get lunch and a beer, and ya go to your workshop until somebody needs you for somethin’. Your back loop in your tool belt is looser than all the others, ‘cause the screwdriver pulls against it when you sit down. The shank was probably in between the two cushions, and when you got up, it fell in. Demo, Pyro, and Heavy all sit on the second or third cushion at some point, so it got shimmied down. And since that’s the only time you sat down, ‘cause you woulda heard it if it dropped on the floor, and I…uh…”

“I’ll be damned,” Engie repeated, and felt the back tool belt loop. It was indeed loose.

Scout finally looked up, and realized what had happened.

“Uh, uh - l-lucky guess, huh Engie?”

Engineer squinted behind his goggles. “Yeah…real lucky…”

What ensued was Engie trying to get Scout to turn into a B.L.U Spy by chasing him around with his wrench. After a few good hits, though, Engineer saw that it was the teammate he knew and loved.

“But…how didja…?”

Scout threw his hand up, the other rubbing the back of his head where he’d been hit.

“I toldja Engie! Lucky guess! Jesus!”

Ever since then, Scout chose his words more carefully.

The Breakdown:

But, unfortunately, Scout could not pretend forever.

There was one week where Scout’s assignment count was so high that, if he wasn’t in a fight, he was on a mission.

Usually, Pauling wouldn’t trust him with so much, but no one else was available - or willing - to do the jobs.

Even when she was getting concerned about the amount of hours Scout was putting in, he blew it off.

“It’s no sweat, Miss Pauling! Their practically givin’ me the pay day. Those yahoos don’t know who they’re messin’ with.”

Over time, though, Scout had a harder and harder time staying focused and alert.

He’d sleep through alarms, stare off into space, zone out completely during briefing (not that he didn’t already do that), have a hard time hearing people in battle - even through his headset - ignore Spy’s taunts, and even forget to bring his bat onto the field.

Nothing seemed to help - Bonk!, warming up, stretching, cold showers, setting reminders, nothing.

And the team was starting to notice.

At first it was with the regular frustration - maybe Scout was just being lazy.

But as time went on, and his condition grew worse, their scorn turned into worry. They implored Medic to do something, but he had no way of getting through to Scout.

The doctor wasn’t above simply sedating him and dragging him into his lab for a check-up. However, he had a feeling that this was more than a physical issue.

The worst came when Scout was doing a routine battle with the B.L.U team on the field.

Everything had started out okay - he even remembered to bring his bad this time - but suddenly, everything was ear-splittingly loud.

He couldn’t focus on more than one sound at once, much less communicate the best course of action to his teammates.

He ended up hiding in a dilapidated shed, in a dusty, dark corner, somewhere between zoning out and panicking.

Scout’s head was in his knees, he was shaking, close to crying, when a sudden splitting of wood roused him.

A B.L.U Soldier had kicked his way into the shed, either having heard Scout or to hide from the other team.

Scout was stunned at first, but something of a blind terror filled him. He picked up his bat, screamed, and started pummeling the surprised Soldier.

At some point, he threw aside his bat and began to swing punch after punch, just like he did in his gang days when he had felt overwhelmed. Still screaming. Still crying.

By the time Scout had dissolved into a rocking, sobbing mess, the Soldier was long dead, with a gigantic pool of blood staining Scout’s shoes.

No one even knew where Scout was until a few hours later, when Spy heard a faint note of “Sexbomb” coming from Scout’s Walkman.

Scout had crawled into the shed’s framework, between the outer and inner wall, and was playing a specific verse over and over and over again, looking like he was on another plane of existence.

Spy immediately called for Medic, who had to lift Scout out by the underarms through a jagged hole in the side of the building. By then, the fight was over, so they could take him directly to the lab.

Medic’s Evaluation:

“I’m guessing zhis is your first mental breakdown?”

“Mental…doc, I ain’t crazy. Wait, you’re not goin’ to put me in a straight jacket, are ya?”

“If you’re not doing anyzhing later.”

Medic started to laugh, but quickly realized this might not be the time.

“No, Scout, everyvun has a mental breakdown at least vunce in their lives. It’s a…how do you say…a vake-up call of sorts. Vhen your body has no other options left.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“For zhe past few months, you health, both physical and mental, has been deteriorating. You eat less. You talk less. Your attacks are lackluster. You have bags under your eyes. You flinch vhen somevun yells for you. You stare off into space. Your routine, vhich usually has at least some changes, has become stringent, as if you can’t possibly expend any more energy into extra activities. You have avoided Demoman on zhe battlefield, even though you usually use him for cover.”

Medic flipped through his notes.

“I have pages and pages of your decline. However, as a scientist, I believe it is caused by zhe same source. And, though I usually respect my patient’s right to privacy vhen it comes to these sorts of matters, I believe you’ve been keeping something from me. Something that I should know as your general practitioner…your doctor.”

Scout shrugged, already shutting out the conversation.

Medic sighed.

“Maybe I tried to talk to you about zhis too soon. After all, you’ve just had a very sudden and exhausting episode. But…perhaps…”

Medic took a sheet of printer paper from his clipboard and a spare pen from his pocket.

“…zhere is an alternative.”

Scout was still unresponsive, but Medic continued.

“Zhere is a patient in my vaiting room vis a metal pole through the chest. It vill take me at least an hour to properly remove it, and a few minutes more to heal zhe area. Vhile I do zhat, vhy don’t you draw how you feel?”

Medic smiled.

“I know how much it grounds you.”

It wasn’t until Medic left that Scout actually picked up the pen, but he began drawing immediately.

For the first time in a while, he wasn’t trying to hide his strokes or scratch up the cleaner lines. No more stick figures. No more pretending.

Five minutes later, he was fully engrossed.

Medic started to walk in at one point, but, seeing how relaxed Scout was, decided to give him a few more minutes.

He deserved it.

#tf2 #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #tf2 headcanons #headcanon requests #tf2 mercs #autism #autistic community #autistic culture #red team #blu team #valve games