#mosh you are so polite thank you
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rough day for gekko
#valorant#art#gekko valorant#rough day for mom meme#be free lil guys#mosh you are so polite thank you
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golden boy (l.jn)
pairings ⇢ bf!jeno x afab!reader (other dreamies mentioned)
word count ⇢ 4.9k
synopsis ⇢ jeno is your sweet lovely attentive boyfriend who takes care of you publicly and privately
warnings ⇢ 18+, smut, established relationship, unprotected sex, softish!dom jeno, spit, crying, big thick dick jeno, fingering, throat fucking/blowjobs, overstimulation (reader cums a lot), fingering, semi-public (ig they’re in a car), cum eating, reader has a wap, use of slut, cum eating, teasing, overuse of the word pretty and baby (lemme know if i missed any)
playlist ⇢ skin _ mac miller / love between _ kali uchis / sanctuary _ joji
masterlist
The music was too loud and the room smelled heavily of weed. You were thankful for the hand dancing under your large jacket from the small of your back to your belt loops when the crowd got too pushy. Also thankful for the large arm that pushed people out of the way as you tried to break through the crowd. Finally out of the middle of what could be compared to a mosh pit you sighed, turning to pull the strong protective arms to you and out the back door.
Your fingers squeezed over the leather that covered his bicep as you pulled him to the patio finding your friends around the fire pit. You felt like you were floating instead of walking over to them but that was probably from smoking earlier. Your grip on Jeno’s arm loosened as you finally made it to your friends.
“You survived!” Renjun cheered from his spot on the ground in front of Chenle who was tucked into himself to keep warm. You laughed while Jeno sat back in his chair before pulling you onto his lap and wrapping a large blanket around you both.
You curled yourself into your boyfriend. His large warm arms engulfed you as Mark was playing guitar while everyone sang along. This was the best part about going to parties. You didn’t care for the bad playlist on repeat or the dancing or even really the drinking. But sitting around a warm fire with some of your closest friends and random stragglers while listening to music was so comfortable.
Your boyfriend keeping you warm was also a big bonus, and he looked so good tonight. Black jeans with a tight black shirt tucked in under a leather jacket. You had sat on his bathroom counter earlier and styled his hair slicking it back away from his face but leaving a few strands to fall over his forehead.
He stood in front of your parted legs, torso bare, and towel hanging low on his hips while he played with a string on your shorts. He looked directly at you, never shy about you noticing his staring.
You contemplated keeping him between your legs and pulling the towel from his waist and having him fuck you against the counter but you decided against it. Somewhat of a double edge sword because you could feel your panties soaking every time you peeked over at him.
His attentiveness didn’t help; it only made you want him more. The way he went out of his way for you. When he poured and held your cup so you didn’t have to worry about it or when he led you to the bathroom, waiting politely outside before leading you back out. You stared at his hands when he pushed some guy away from falling into you. You thought about how good it would feel to have them shoved in your mouth or in your cunt or even wrapped around your throat.
You could feel your cheeks heating while you pressed your thighs together and pushed yourself back into Jeno’s lap. He rubbed soothing circles on your hip before gripping it to keep you from moving. You leaned your head back falling into his neck, lips grazing his soft skin.
“You good?” he whispered. You nodded looking up at him reaching a hand up to push the loose strands away from tickling his eyebrow. You stayed like that feeling his warmth and how his chest vibrates when he laughed at something stupid Jaemin would say between songs. his leg moved slightly up and down as he tapped his foot to the rhythm you didn’t even know what song Mark was playing. Only focused on the pretty boy surrounding you. He glanced down at you only to find you already staring back.
“Hi,” you whispered. Chenle was scolding Jisung for getting the lyrics to some song wrong.
“Hi.” he breathed out. You brought your hand to his chest playing with the necklace you let him borrow, fingers tugging slightly at his collar. Your mind drifted to it dangling over you while he fucked deep into your cunt.
“Need you,” you mumbled, staring up at him with innocent doe eyes. His hand grazed from your hip to slip under your jacket and shirt to rest on your waist.
“Let's go?” he whispered, smiling down at you lazily.
“But I don’t wanna go yet,” you admitted with a pout, eyes trailing down his jaw to his chest.
“I’m not fucking you while our friends sing kumbaya, c'mon,” he says making you giggle while he lifts you easily before turning and folding the blanket and laying it in the chair.
“We’re heading out.” he says, followed by various “noooo” and “aww.”
“You can’t leave already, it's only like 11.” haechan pouts from across the fire.
“Well, we are,” Jeno responds dryly. You hit him lightly on the stomach.
“They have to leave so Jeno can fuck y/n’s brains out,” Jaemin smirks. You flip him off and roll your eyes in response.
“How’s it going for you? Hasn’t it been 3, nope, 4 months now?” Jeno says, grabbing your bag and your hand pulling you away from your friends to the back gate.
“Damn,” you can hear Haechan and Renjun chorus. You know Jaemin won’t hear the end of this and it makes you laugh. Jeno laces his fingers in yours as you cross the patio before stepping into the grass. It's still soft and slightly muddy from the rain the previous day. He reaches around you gripping your waist to lift you slightly off the ground.
“I can walk, you know,” you say, rolling your eyes, but you're blushing as he holds you effortlessly.
“I don’t want you to get your pretty feet muddy,” he replies, unlocking the back gate and slipping through before closing it back. The front yard is far worse than the back; some kids are passed out against the front porch, a couple is fighting and some boys are playing tag. You grip Jeno’s shoulders while he leads you through the mushy grass and to the sidewalk. placing you down, hand finding its way back to yours.
“You look so fucking hot tonight,” you whine when you're far enough away from the house. He just smirks, pulling you close to him. It only made you crazier because he knew he was hot and not in an arrogant way but in a sexy confident way.
“It's because my girlfriend styled me tonight.” you laughed hearing his keys jingle before clicking to unlock the car.
“And she lets you go out like this when girls like me are drooling over you.” you look up at him as he presses you to the car door. His leg pushes yours apart before pressing against you.
“She doesn’t know how much I like it when girls like you are drooling over me.” he leans down kissing your neck and snaking his hand around your waist. Pulling you away from the car and opening the door in one motion. He leans you down into the passenger seat letting you settle while he sits your bag at your feet before grabbing the seatbelt and fastening it for you.
He was always so attentive to you; he did all the things that were so easy and mundane to you. Opening the door for you, combing your hair, tying your shoes. The driver's side opened before he got in starting the car while you fiddled with your phone to put on music.
“You can’t put on a sex playlist yet.” he huffed, bringing his hands to the wheel. You laughed, turning up the volume before leaning back in your seat. His hand found its way to your thigh before he pulled onto the street.
You stared at him one hand on the wheel and the other on you. He puffed air out his mouth making the strand of hair dance on his forehead. You hadn’t realized your legs were spreading as you watched the way his jaw tightened when he met a red light. He looked over at you.
“You look like I’ve already made you cum,” he smirked, tilting his head. He brought his fingers to your core, dancing lightly over your heat making you sigh.
“You’re so mean,” you say when he pressed the gas again. “You can’t touch me, we still have like 10 more minutes in the car.” he laughed, adding more pressure to your clit.
He continued like that and it felt like you hit every single stoplight only prolonging your trip which made your head spin. You were grinding against his hand while you gripped his forearm.
“If you don’t fucking pull over.” you whimpered, chest rising and falling swiftly.
“You can’t wait for 7 more minutes.” he teased, bringing his hand away before slapping it down, making you jerk. He just laughed at you and it made your tummy flip. you loved this side of him, your sweet adoring boyfriend taunting you. His familiar crescent eyes were replaced with a cocked brow and a lazy smirk.
“How about this,” he offered, bringing his fingers to your button. “I make you cum now with my fingers,” pausing while he unbuttoned your pants. “and then when we get back I’ll make you cum on my tongue,” pausing again to tug the zipper down. “and then I’ll fill up your pretty pussy.” You nodded aggressively when his fingers made contact with your wet panties.
“You’re so wet. All because I wore a leather jacket? So pathetic,” you whined again blushing at his words. He dipped his calloused fingers below the waistband ghosting over your clit. His fingers glided through your folds collecting the wetness before bringing his hands out of your pants and to his lips sucking your taste off of them. You stared at him with your lip between your teeth when he gathered his saliva on his fingers before bringing it back to you.
You don’t know what came over you when you grabbed his sleeve making his eyebrows furrow until you shoved his spit-covered fingers in your mouth. He groaned from his seat while you swirl your tongue over his digits. He mumbled something under his breath, pressing his head to the seat, meeting another red light before looking over at you.
You could still taste yourself on his fingers before you pulled them from your mouth spit connecting to your lips. He stared at you before moving his hand back between your legs pushing your panties to the side before pressing against your clit. You whimpered bringing a hand to cover your mouth when his fingers started going in fast circles.
“Fuck,” your boyfriend hissed when a honk interrupted him, focusing his attention back on the road but not neglecting your cunt. You felt so embarrassed what if the people behind you knew your boyfriend had his hand in your pants. You didn’t really care when his fingers hit all the right spots that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back.
You could hear the squelch between your legs over the music and your breathing. You tried to keep your eyes open to see how close you were to Jeno’s apartment but the pleasure had your eyes closing on their own. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach tightening making your fingers grip his arm tighter. He always knew you were close when your nails dug crescents into his skin.
“You’re gonna cum, baby?” he lilted. you nodded teeth digging into your bottom lip. “What if they see you?” he asked, making your eyes fly open to see a car driving steadily beside you. “You'd probably like that, wouldn’t you? such a little slut.” You whined back arching off the seat as you cum feeling yourself gush in your panties.
He doesn’t stop his fingers from pushing you deeper into a space between pleasure and pain before he finally pulls his fingers away. Glancing over at your heaving chest when he brings his fingers to his mouth with a grin.
“Taste so sweet for me baby,” he says nonchalantly, reaching over to zip your pants and button them back. Hand palming at your thigh while your body stays buzzing still coming down from your high. You feel stupid and you haven’t even seen his cock. You didn’t realize you were already on his street until he pulled into his parking spot.
He reaches over unbuckling your seatbelt and his own before grabbing your chin and pressing his lips to yours. He pulls away too quickly but kisses the side of your mouth.
“Do you need me to carry you,” he whispers against your mouth. You whimper, shaking your head and reaching for the door before he grabs your wrist stopping you. He gets out of the car quickly before jogging over to your side, opening the door, and holding out a hand to you. He helps you out before reaching down to grab your bag. He fiddles with his keys in his hand as you approach his front door.
“Can I stay over?” you question when he opens the door. He laughs nodding while he sits your bag down.
“you never have to ask,” he says, bending down to untie your shoes and looking up at you curiously. You try not to stare at the sparkles in his eyes. He looks so pretty at this angle. He places your hand on his shoulder before gripping your ankle and removing one shoe and then the next.
“I know but I’m polite.” he grins at you before rising from the ground to stand over you.
“You’re very polite, baby,” he pets your head sweetly. “polite, kind, sweet, generous,” he extends, unzipping your jacket and slipping it off your bare shoulders to hang in his closet. “pretty, funny, sexy, mine,” he continues and it makes you blush. You had never been with someone like him.
“c’mere.” he pulls you into him and down the hall. Your head is pressed into his neck as you waddle with him. You giggle into him at how silly you both must look. Thankfully, Jaemin had stayed at the party so he wouldn’t see both of you like this. But Jeno never cared about how people saw him when he was with you. He didn’t care if people thought he was a simp or whipped for you he took pride in that. being yours.
He closes his door once you're both in his room, pulling you to his bed before sitting down the light from his lamp illuminating his cheekbones. Hands finding your waist when you sit on his lap without hesitation. He reaches up to brush your hair behind your ears, hands slipping down to your cheeks bringing your face to his.
You melt against his lips so soft and warm and so Jeno. You grip his jacket, the leather cool in your hands. His tongue slips into your mouth; he tastes like cherry soda. You grind down against him lightly feeling his cock pressing against your core. You whimper into his mouth at the slightest friction. He’s swallowing all the sounds you make moving his hands to your hips to help you drag against him. Your hands roam down to unclasp his belt, fingers fumbling.
“needy baby,” he smirks against your lips before leaning to press kisses against your neck. His lips distract you from getting the buckle undone, making you whine in frustration. He smiles into your neck reaching down to unclasp his belt easily.
“you’re distracting me,” you say before finally unbuttoning his jeans. He huffs out a warm laugh against your neck. He leans back onto his elbows watching you curiously as you unzip his jeans and tug at the waistband of his boxers. He shakes his head before grabbing your wrists and bringing them to your sides.
“don’t you remember my plan, baby?” he looks up at you quizzically.
“Can I add to the plan?”
“what do you want to add?” he cocks his eyebrow at you already knowing what you are going to ask.
“Can I just-“ you pause suddenly shy. He nods his head for you to continue. “want you in my mouth.”
“How bad do you want it?” you whine wiggling over him in embarrassment. You know you have to beg but it doesn’t make your face any less red.
“So bad.” you glance up at him wishing that was enough. He squeezes your wrist. “want it so bad. Can you just fuck my mouth? I've been thinking about it all night. You over me with your pretty hair and jacket and your cock down my throat.” you don’t realize but you're rambling.
“I guess I can add to the plan then since you want it so bad.” he loosens his grip on your wrists rubbing over the skin soothingly. “Let me do this first though, okay, baby?” you nod before you even know what he’s doing. He’s tugging your shirt off before his large hands grope at your tits making you dizzy.
“I love when I can convince you not to wear a bra,” he whispers against your skin before peppering kisses from your neck to your collarbone. You sigh, relaxing into his familiar touch. His tongue licking your chest before taking your nipple into his mouth making you whimper. You grip the nape of his neck tugging lightly at his gelled hair. His mouth vibrates around your nipple so you repeat the action tugging harder.
He releases your nipple with a pop before diving into the other. You hadn’t realized you were grinding against him until one of his arms reached around your back stopping your movements. you whine your nails scraping his neck. His tongue slides down at the same time he’s pushing you up to stand. Leaning forward when you stand fully in front of him you feel his tongue slide over your tummy kissing lightly at the skin. His tongue teases at your belly button nipping lightly against the soft skin before his fingers tickle at your sides lightly making you squirm.
He pulls away unbuttoning your pants for a second time that night. Sliding them over your hips and to your ankles he holds out a hand for you to grab while you step out kicking them behind you. He leans in again teeth nipping at the skin above your panties, his hands gripping your ass pulling at the cheeks while you grab his broad shoulders.
He looks up at you, his eyes glinting between adoration and mischief. He finally tugs at your panties, pulling them down your legs leaving you completely bare in front of him. There was no embarrassment or anxiety or worrying he might see something he didn’t like because he liked it all.
“You’re so pretty.” he says not directly to you but just out loud. “all mine.” he grips your cheeks again, caressing the skin. “Lay down,” he instructs standing up in front of you and turning you both around so you’re pressed to the bed.
“Want your pretty head here,” he points at the edge. You nod sitting on the bed and turning before laying back, neck hitting the edge of the mattress and your head hanging off. The view of your boyfriend towering over you gripping his cock through his underwear. He was still completely clothed while you were naked. It made you press your thighs together hoping he wouldn’t see. But when you hear him scoff you know he noticed.
“can’t wait, can you?” he taunts caressing your cheek with one hand and pulling his cock from his boxers with the other. Your mouth is already watering. You grip at his thighs opening your mouth eagerly and looking up at him. His hand smoothed over your cheek before taping his cock against your chin. Feeling his heavy length on your lip before he presses into your mouth. You lose contact with his eyes as your mouth fills up so you close them instead, relishing in the fullness.
He groans deeply when you swallow around him. He grabs the sides of your face before slowly pulling out. Spit is already collecting on the sides of your lips as he fucks back into your mouth. You whine when the head of his cock touches the back of your throat making your eyes water.
“fuck,” he hisses quickening his pace but only slightly. You move your hands up to grip his belt loops pulling him closer making his hips hit your chin. He stays there for a minute before pulling out letting you breathe only for a second before you pull him back to you.
He watched your throat bulge with each thrust into you watching his dick fill your throat. He pressed his fingers against your neck feeling his cock gliding inside and it had his eyes rolling back.
Your brain is empty, completely entrapped in him and the feeling of him. Your lips are starting to hurt as he stretches your mouth like he’s stretching your pussy. You didn’t realize you were still rubbing your thighs together wanting to be relieved of the pressure you felt at your core.
His hands start creeping down your body teasing you with pinches and flicking at your nipples making you jerk off the bed but his cock stays steadily fucking your mouth. You feel him grip the tops of your thighs spreading your legs harshly making you cough around him. He just grunts at the tightness around him and you feel his fingers ghosting over your pussy. You only grip his belt loops tighter fingers raw where the fabric digs into the skin.
“So wet,” he says, fingers dipping between your core making your toes curl. “I wish you could see yourself, fuck baby.” he groans. You whine around him when he pushes two fingers into you. Spreading your legs as far as you can as he matches his thrusts into your mouth with his fingers inside of you curling them just right bringing you closer to the edge.
“So pretty like this, all spread out and open for me. Pretty little mouth taking me so well, like a good little slut” he says pushing his cock deep down your throat. All you can do is cry, tears and spit dripping into your hair. “Are you gonna cum like this baby? I bet you could cum even if I didn't touch you. Just fucking that little mouth of yours would make you cum, huh, baby?” you whimper because he’s probably right but that’s something for you to store in your mind for later.
“I'm gonna change up the plan, baby,” he said, voice growing deeper. He pulled out of your mouth letting you catch your breath as he leaned over you fully, his spit-soaked cock resting heavily against your cheek. Your chest heaved and he sped up his fingers. His other hand pressed into your lower stomach keeping you in place.
“Can hear how wet you are,” he taunted. He was right. You could hear the loud squelch with each swift thrust and you could feel yourself tightening before your release.
“Jeno,” you whined out from below. This only made him go faster.
“oh my fuc-“ you moan before being cut off by your orgasm hitting you suddenly. Legs shaking trying to close but he wouldn’t let you. You could feel the wetness dribbling out of your pussy and onto your thighs as your mouth hung open with no sounds coming out.
“good girl,” he says, slowing down before pulling out with a slap against your clit making you shake harder. “So messy,” he teases, pulling away before kneeling in front of you. You roll onto your stomach before he brushes your hair away from your face looking into your wet eyes, swiping at the drying spit on your cheeks.
“So good,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your lips and reaching around you to pull you up from the edge of the bed.
“no,” you say when he goes to take off his jacket. He looks at you confused before realization washes over his features.
“You really like this jacket,” he says, drawing out the words with a smile. You nod shyly before laying back on the pillows and reaching up for him.
“Like it a lot. Makes you look like a sexy mean bad boy,” you say looking up at him as he walks around the bed before lifting his knee and pressing into the sheets.
“Do you want me to be a mean bad boy?” he tilts his head above you staring at you like he would eat you alive. He scoots closer to you, legs on either side of yours.
“mmm,” you hmm thinking for a second. He grips your thighs pressing them back before looking down at your dripping cunt. “only sometimes.” you confirm.
“Sometimes?” he questions gripping his length before guiding it between your folds drawing your attention from his face to between your legs. “elaborate.”
“like when,” your eyes flutter each time his cock pressed against your clit. He stops to get you to focus on his question. “when you, when -fuck- when you tease me and-“ you pause looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“And what?” he taunts further by pressing the tip of his cock into you. Your head lulls back against the pillows.
“And when you call me names,” you finish with a moan when he fully pressed into you. His cock fills you up fully, making your eyes roll back.
“What names?” he questions thrusting into you deeply. You almost want to ask him to shut up because he’s making your head spin. But he looks so hot above you, necklace dangling like you imagined almost hypnotizing you.
“When you,” you pause as he presses into the warm bundle of nerves. “call me,” you whine again as he continues to rub at the spot that has your toes curling. “pretty slut,” you finally finish with a huff.
He laughs at you tweaking your nipples and it makes you go crazy. He's filling you up so perfectly making you moan loudly gripping his leather sleeves. His hair is all disheveled now, somehow even hotter than when it was styled, more fringe fell over his forehead and bounced with each thrust into your tight heat. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he stared between your legs watching his fat cock sink into your pussy.
“So fucking tight for me.” he groans. “How does a pretty slut like you stay so tight, huh?” you feel tears brimming your eyes again shaking your head against the pillows. Everything feels so intense so full, so intense, so much pleasure.
“Gonna cum, Jen,” you whimper. Reaching for his hand before he intertwined your fingers and stared into your eyes.
“You gonna cum on my cock? Slutty little pussy takes me so well,” he’s hoarse and his words are going straight between your legs.
“Can I,” you’re out of breath, eyes pleading into his.
“cum, baby,” he says tenderly. You throw your head back and whine his name as your walls flutter around him. He doesn’t let up tightening his grip on your thigh and hand, thrusting into you just as hard.
“You squeeze me so tight, fuck,” he groans watching a white ring of your cum form around his length. You feel your legs trying to close around him to push him away but he stays overstimulating you as more tears tumble down your cheeks. He moves his hand from your thigh to press slow circles on your clit building you up again. “So wet. So fucking wet.”
“S’much,” you whine.
“One more baby you can do it. Little more baby just a little more,” he peeks up at you and you nod. “Gonna fill up your pretty pussy.” His thrusts are sloppier as he continues flicking your clit. He leans down pressing his lips against you, a stark contrast between his harsh thrusts and soft lips. Tongue licking into your mouth as you sucked on the wet muscle.
“Want it,” you mumble into his mouth, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. He pushes into you and warm white fills you up. You cum again clenching around him milking his cock as he continues his thrusts.
“fuck.” he groans into your shoulder before finally slowing his movements. You stay like that, feeling him soften inside of you as you both catch your breath. He kisses your neck before leaning back and pulling out of you spreading your legs to watch his cum drip out of your fluttering hole.
He watches as you reach your hand between your legs collecting your cum and his before bringing it to your mouth swirling your tongue around your digits tasting yourself and him.
“Don’t do that or I’ll have to fuck you again,” he warns. You roll your eyes giggling around your fingers before pulling them from your lips. “you’re so,” he doesn’t finish leaning back over you, kissing you sweetly.
“So what?” you ask when he pulls away getting off the bed. You watch him cross the room to his bathroom. You can hear him shuffling around and water running before he comes back warm washcloth in hand and in only his boxers. You want to pout at the loss of his outfit but you can’t when his chest is right in front of you.
“all of the above,” he responds, gripping your ankle and pulling you to the edge of the bed before using the cloth to clean you gently.
“You should wear a leather jacket more often.”
tysm for reading!! i’m thinking of making this a series (like bf jeno being lovely and sweet and sexy) anyways lemme know if ur into it hehe stay safe ʕᵔ ᴥ ᵔʔ
#nct dream smut#jeno smut#jeno x reader#jeno big dick#jeno x you#lee jeno#lee jeno x reader#lee jeno smut#tddyhyck
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In the least creepy way possible, Yuuta’s been keeping tabs on you tonight. He’s a bit of a wall flower in places like this—loud shows with flashing lights, a dancing crowd roaring around him like an ocean’s waves—so he’s fascinated by people who manage not to be. He wonders how your type seems to have a gravitational pull when he can barely hear what the person next to him is saying.
He watches as you smile and dance and laugh and cup people’s ears to tell them something. He likes to think he gets to know you a bit from what he observes—he thinks you must be a good friend, when he sees your arm wrap around some drunk girl to hold her up. He thinks you must not be shy the way you shove bodies away when you get close to the chaotic mosh pit in the middle of the floor. And most of all, he thinks that you are not interested in finding a man to keep you company this evening.
Not one of your friendly smiles has been directed at a man, Yuuta can’t help but have noticed. Especially not to the few who’ve had the gall to approach you, the expression you gave them was always downright cold. Not that Yuuta faults you by any means, watching as you deliver a particularly cruel glare to the bearded guy who just bought you a drink—these men aren’t owed your warmth. And, if he’s honest with himself, your harsh rejections have him relieved—whether you’ve got a partner back home or simply aren’t looking (Yuuta doesn’t dwell on the idea that you might not be attracted to men at all), Yuuta doesn’t mind so long as he doesn’t have to watch some mediocre guy earn your approval—or worse yet, your interest. The idea leaves a bad taste in his mouth, stranger as he is.
It must be a lucky night, because not long after you ditch the beard man, you start making your way closer to the stage—to Yuuta. He tries to be subtle as he observes you swaying in time with the current of bodies, closer and closer until you stop right next to his shoulder.
He glances down when you do and gives a polite smile—something in his heart setting on fire when you return it, peeking up at him through your lashes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think your expression looked an awful lot like fuck-me eyes.
Before anything more can happen though, Yuuta once again watches as some guy from the crowd shoves his way closer to you–-pressing a hand to your back. Yuuta’s mouth falls open at the timing, barely making out the yelled proposal this man gives you, but having no trouble reading his lips. DANCE WITH ME?
He can hear your reply though.
“NOOO! I’M GOOD!” you take a baby step away, bumping into Yuuta.
Yuuta’s eyes flick to the man’s ugly little hand where it rests on your back, noting how it’s still there for some reason. Then the man makes a frown—it’s a much worse expression to see on his face than observing it on yours across the room earlier.
Before the guy says another word, Yuuta gives him a yank away using Rika, and thanks to the relentless crowd, he’s swallowed up easily.
You meet Yuuta’s eyes after that and your gaze lingers, expression warming—soon you’re leaning in close on tiptoes to shout something in his ear.
“DO YOU WANNA DANCE?”
…
Later in the night, after learning his name and thoroughly whipping Yuuta around on the dance floor, you drag him away from the stage towards the venue’s bar.
You like how his big palm engulfs yours when you hold it to lead him, glancing back often just to get another peek at his expression—he never disappoints, his wide dark eyes sucking you in like black holes. He’s intense—objectively scary and intimidating, but you like the way he covers it up in blushing cheeks and sweet smiles. He’s intriguing in a way you want to snatch up for yourself—territorial against every soul who’s gaze lingers on Yuuta’s tall frame, despite that he seems to be unaware of them.
The first time you noticed Yuuta tonight was when you watched some drunk woman in the process of an elaborate trip, losing her balance slowly but surely before falling completely over. You witnessed it from a bit away, wincing at what you were sure would be a messy collapse, but the girl never hit the ground. A handsome ink-haired stranger was spotted lifting her by the elbow, his other hand saving her drink from a spill.
You caught the way her expression faltered when she took in the man who helped her, eyes widening, cheeks reddening. She smiled so huge for him, looking back over her shoulder again and again as her friend dragged her away.
You’ve been eyeing Yuuta all night since then, intent on getting him to yourself. And now that you finally have, you don’t wanna let him slip through your fingers.
You already asked Yuuta his go-to drink, so you’re confident when you ask the bartender for two gin and tonics, fumbling with your phone case to retrieve your card. Yuuta’s quicker though, offering the man behind the counter his own instead, opening a tab. When you frown at him he gives you a sweet smile that says you’re stupid for thinking he’d let you spend your money.
“Thanks for paying, stranger.”
“Ouch! Still a stranger after all those twirls you had me do?”
You lean closer as you giggle, and Yuuta seems to relish in it, his gaze smoldering when he mirrors your smile.
“No, I’m just teasing. I know you like the back of my hand, Yuuta.”
You sip your freshly delivered drink, leaning even closer till your head rubs against his shoulder.
The laugh he gives you is boyish and light—the kind that catches in the back of his throat so you know it’s genuine. You want to gobble this man up, to swallow him whole, he’s so cute. So you let him know.
“Yuuta, I want to eat you alive. Like, everything in me is telling me to bite you.”
You catch the pretty flush that creeps up his neck then, the way his eyes darken when he looks down at you.
“I wouldn’t mind.”
#yuuta x reader#jjk x reader#yuta x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#yuuta fic#yuuta fluff#yuuta drabble#🐞 writes
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Hiiii, I love all your Hobie Brown posts, I need him biblically fr- aside from that, can I request Hobie with a punk reader (like how they meet and how they get together) I do dress punk and wear a lot of spiky things, but I'm definitely deep in the punk political scene and stuff, (if you need that info)
thank you so much!!💜
omg thank uuuu!! for me, this is the middle of the night but I cannot sleep and I love this so here!! i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism,,,,also this is not proofread it is 3:30am
warnings - punk things???
hobie brown x punk! reader headcannons!!!
you can relate to each other on so many levels and it’s relieving
you were at his concert, and you were up front, screaming, moshing, generally loving the show
you were loving it so much in fact that you threw your jacket on stage
he picked it up and swung it over his shoulder, not thinking twice about it
the concert went on and everyone had a great time
it wasn’t until after the concert where you suddenly realized “hey where’d my jacket go?”
like the universe listened, hobie walked right by to leave with his guitar
“hey! you have my jacket.” you grabbed his shoulder, taking your jacket off of it.
he turned around, initially not saying anything
“is this your jacket or are you just tryin’ to get free clothes?”
this sparked a small argument between you two
in reality, he was just asking to make sure he wasn’t giving someone’s jacket away for free
but you thought he was insulting you
after that it became a ritual to haggle each other at his shows, or any shows you happened to see each other
after that it was just friendly bickering
and you started hanging out
one day at a show, you both were drinking while watching the performance
a girl walked up to him and obviously started flirting with him
out of nowhere he said,
“politely beat it, aight I got a girlfriend.”
she scoffed and walked away, disappearing into the crowd
“wait hobie you have a girlfriend?”
“yeah, you.”
what.
you looked at him, dumbfounded for a moment
“i thought we were dating, are we not?”
“what.”
“so why do you let me borrow your cuffs ‘nd sleep at your house?”
this sparked a whole new confession coming from you
safe to say you guys started dating after that <3
#fanfic#fanfiction#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderman headcanon#spiderpunk x reader#spiderpunk#hobie brown#hobart brown#hobie brown x reader
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hey do you have an antipsych reading list or anything like that? i’m trying to learn more about the topic. thank you!
yes!! This is more a list of mad studies books than like, sociological theory from the 60s because disability justice + mad pride is more what I vibe with, but if you want some more in-depth theory recommendations I can do that as well. blanket trigger warning that all of these books discuss psychiatric abuse, institutionalization, and many of them candidly address topics of suicide, mental distress, and sexual assault. If anyone wants more specific trigger warnings please feel free to ask!
Books:
The Collected Schizophrenias by Esmé Weijun Wang: This book is a fabulous collection of essays based on the author's own experience of schizophrenia, and explores the complexities of diagnosis and institutionalization.
Brilliant Imperfection by Eli Clare: This book is incredibly important to me and explores the concept of cure, what it means to have anti-cure politics, and all the nuances of cure. Truly a beautifully written book and I really recommend it.
Disability Incarcerated: Imprisonment and Disability in the United States and Canada edited by Liat Ben Moshe: This book is an amazing exploration of institutionalization and incarceration from so many different perspectives, including the special ed to prison pipeline, segregation, psychiatric medicine within prisons, and how institutionalization functions as incarceration. This book can be challenging to read as a psych survivor, but I highly recommend it.
How to Go Mad without Losing Your Mind: Madness and Black Radical Creativity by La Marr Jurelle Bruce: I highly recommend this book. It really delves into complex meanings of madness, how that's tied to radical tradition, aesthetics, art, liberation, so much more, and also really engages mad studies and Black cultural studies.
Mad in America: Bad Science, Bad Medicine, and the Enduring Mistreatment of the Mentally Ill by Robert Whitaker: I think this book can be a good foundation for learning the history of psychiatry in America in particular, and although I don't necessarily vibe with everything in this book, I think it is still absolutely worth reading and engaging with critically!
The Protest Psychosis: How Schizophrenia Became a Black Disease by Johnathan Metzl This book does a really good job looking at the history of psychosis in the context of the United States, the civil rights movement, and how pyschosis diagnoses connects to eugenics and slavery.
Asylums: Essays on the Social Situation of Mental Patients and Other Inmates by Erving Goffman I have not actually read this yet, but it is a classic and it's been on my reading list since @bioethicists recommended it to me!
Open in Emergency: DSM II: Asian American Edition edited by Mimi Khúc This collection of essays has so many different fabulous perspectives on mental health, disability justice, community, and resistance.
Miscellaneous:
Girls do what they have to do to Survive: Illuminating Methods used by Girls in the Sex Trade and Street Economy to Fight back and Heal by the Young Women's Empowerment Project I'm including this on the list even though it might not connect as clearly to antipsychiatry as some of the other titles, because reading this was transformative to me for understanding my own experiences and the ways in which social services like the medical system are not our friends. I also view liberatory harm reduction as essential to building alternatives to psychiatry and YWEP is so completely foundational and groundbreaking in many ways.
Harm Reduction Guide to Coming off Psychiatric Drugs
Cutting the Risk: Harm Reduction and Self Harm I want to add an extra trigger warning for in-depth discussion of self harm and anatomy, including anatomy diagrams.
Asylum Magazine
Mad In America Website--this can be a good place to keep up with psychiatric news in America.
This is very much not a complete list, so followers PLEASE add on!
#antipsych#antipsychiatry#mad studies#mad pride#disability studies#disability#mental health#and obvious disclaimer that i don't agree with 100 percent of every page of all these books#approach these critically and take what works and leave what doesn't!#okay to reblog
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So what’s the modern interpretation of the laws about keeping slaves? I’ve heard that said laws where a lot more kind to slaves then the surrounding nations but, like, it’s still slavery?
Hi anon,
With Pesach coming up, I'm sure that this question is on a lot of people's minds. It's a good question and many rabbanim throughout history have attempted to tackle it. Especially today, with slavery being seen as a moral anathema in most societies (obviously this despite the fact that unfortunately slavery is still a very real human rights crisis all over the world), addressing the parts of the Torah that on the surface seem to condone it becomes a moral imperative.
It's worth noting that the Jewish world overall condemns slavery. In my research for this question, I came across zero modern sources arguing that slavery is totally fine. I'm sure that if you dug deep enough there's some fringe wacko somewhere arguing this, but every group has its batshit fringe.
Here are some sources across the political and religious observance spectrum that explain it better than I could:
Chabad (this article is written by Rabbi Tzvi Freeman, a wonderful rabbi whose words I have learned deeply over the years. He is one of my favorite rabbis despite not seeing eye to eye with a lot of the Chabad movement)
Conservative (to be clear: this is my movement; it's not actually politically conservative in most shuls, just poorly named. We desperately need to bully them into calling themselves Masorti Olami like the rest of the world. It's [essentially] a liberal traditional egalitarian movement.)
Conservative pt. 2 (different rabbi's take)
Reform (note that this is from the Haberman Institute, which was founded by a Reform rabbi. Link is to a YouTube recording of a recent lecture on the topic.)
Chareidi (this rabbi is an official rabbi of the Western Wall in Israel, so in a word, very frum)
Modern Orthodox
I want to highlight this last one, because it is written by the Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Chovevei, which is a progressive Modern Orthodox rabbinical school. They work very hard to read Torah through an authentically Orthodox lens while also maintaining deeply humanist values. As someone who walks a similar (if not identical) balancing act, this particular drash (sermon) spoke very deeply to me, and so I'm reposting it in its entirety**
[Edit: tumblr.hell seems real intent on not letting me do this in my original answer, so I will repost it in the reblogs. Please reblog that version if you're going to. Thanks!]
Something you will probably notice as you work your way through these sources, you'll note that there are substantially more traditional leaning responses. This is because of a major divide in how the different movements view Torah, especially as it pertains to changing ethics over time and modernity. I'm oversimplifying for space, but the differences are as follows:
The liberal movements (Reform, Renewal, Reconstructionist, etc.) view halacha as non-binding and the Torah as a human document that is, nevertheless, a sacred document. I've seen it described as the spiritual diary of our people throughout history. Others view it as divinely inspired, but still essentially and indelibly human.
The Orthodox and other traditional movements view halacha as binding and Torah as the direct word of G-d given to the Jewish people through Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses) on Mt. Sinai. (Or, at a minimum, as a divinely inspired text written and compiled by people that still represents the word of G-d. This latter view is mostly limited to the Conservative and Modern Orthodox movements.)
Because of these differences, the liberal movements are able to address most of these problematic passages by situating them in their proper historical context. It is only the Orthodox and traditional movements that must fully reckon with the texts as they are, and seek to understand how they speak to us in a contemporary context.
As for me? I'm part of a narrow band of traditional egalitarian progressive Jews that really ride that line between viewing halacha as binding and the Torah as divinely given, despite recognizing the human component of its authorship - more a partnership in its creation than either fully human invention or divine fiat. That said, I am personally less interested in who wrote it literally speaking and much more interested in the question of: How can we read Torah using the divinely given process of traditional Torah scholarship while applying deeply humanist values?
Yeshivat Chovevei does a really excellent job of approaching Torah scholarship this way, as does Hadar. Therefore, I'm not surprised that this article captures something I have struggled to articulate: an authentically orthodox argument for change.
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Can you do Vincent Sinclair with a bass guitarist s/o?
Lucky Man: Vincent Sinclair x bassist!reader
Warnings: reader wears black eyeliner and lipstick as clown makeup (makeup is gender neutral but still), reader also smokes
A/N: okay I know it says s/o but I kinda wanted to do a little fic where they first met. So uh, yeah :3
Masterlist
The bar is hot, music is loud, and people are already head banging when Vincent and Bo walk in. Vincent and Bo stopped going to these in their late 20’s. Why they were there tonight, only God knew.
Vincent felt himself though as soon as he followed Bo to the bar and the two sat down a little distance away to watch one of the 7 bands play tonight.
They watch as college kids thrash about the mosh pit, often times punching the shit out of each other and kicking.
That was honestly why he stopped going. Vincent felt too old to do all of that and the music definitely fucked up his ear drums. Bo stopped a year or two after him, getting a few kills in before that. Bo still listened to all of the music but Vincent changed to classical, felt easier on his mind and helped him focus. He’s sure the same could’ve been said about Bo’s music taste.
The band cleans up, 80’s music plays during the break as another band sets up. His eye is set on the most attractive bassist in the world, they wear platform boots and chunky jewelry, skinny jeans and a tank top that showed off every part of their torso.
Your makeup was just as sexy, it ran down your face like you’d been crying while the lipstick looked like clown lips.
You set yourself up and waited idly to start playing, swinging your bass around as you swayed.
You move your pick to the bass and start playing. The lead singer of your band screaming into the mic, Vincent wasn’t even paying attention to the words, only you. You head bang roughly and Vincent nodded along at a less aggressive pace.
Five songs later and your band was cleaning up. He watched as you made your way off of the stage, packing up your bass and heading out the back door, he quickly follows you, lucky that Bo isn’t bitching at him to stay where he is.
You’re leaning against the wall when he gets out there, a cigarette in hand and your bass gone.
He walks up to you wearily and you can’t help but smile. He looks over you, waving politely.
You introduce yourself and hold out your hand, he doesn’t hesitate to take it.
“Vincent.”
His voice sounds like it’s been grated by sandpaper one too many times, you don’t mind it a bit.
“I gotta ask, cause I hate talking to dudes younger than me. How old are you?” You put the cigarette back up to your lip and take a drag, moving your lips as to not blow smoke into his face.
“32.” He replies, you click your tongue and smile.
“Thank god, sick of younger people comin’ up to me and tryin’ to chat like I’m fuckin’ them. I can tell from your vibes you seem like a nice guy Vince.” You slide down the wall and sit with your boots making your feet fall to the side. He sits on the concrete too, just across from you. “I don’t do none of that fuckin’ shit. Most I’ll do is a high five. I promise you that.”
Your tone sounds exhausted, sick of life, but at the same time not so much. You wipe your face, sweaty is disgusting the clown makeup smears.
“I like your mask, you just wear that for fun? Or do you have some sick scar you’re hidin’?”
Vincent shifts in his spot. “Scar.”
You smirk. “Hot.”
The long haired man tilts his head at you. You shrug and laugh a little. “Scars are cool, they’re sexy and hot. I ain’t ever met a man tryin’ to hide that shit. I hope you weren’t shamed into hidin’ it. If you were you should just take it off here or whatever since we welcome freaks and shit.”
Something comes over Vincent and he takes the mask off, your smile grows bigger and you light another cigarette. “See? Sexy as hell, and you don’t have an eye? You’re badass. I’ll tell you that. You’ve barely even talked in the last… 10 minutes we’ve been in each other’s presence, yet to me you’re the coolest bitch out there.”
Vincent smiles and lets out a laugh, it’s too good to be true. You’re too good to be true.
You two spend the next two hours chatting, he talks about his art, going to these shows when he was younger, and Bo and Lester. You talk about how long you’ve been in your band, all of the shows you’ve done, you sneaking into shows when you were younger, that you live close by,and the little hobbies you do on the side. It’s 12 AM by the time Bo finds you and Vincent behind the bar.
Vincent had his mask still off and a cigarette in his mouth. The shocked look on Bo’s face made Vincent almost put his mask back on, both of you were quick to stop him.
“Shit man, took me over a year to finally get you to stop wearin’ that shit around the house and them how fucking long?” He gestures to the mask and then you. “You gotta be a real lucky son of a bitch.” Bo smirks. Vincent blows smoke from his mouth and gets up grabbing his mask. He helps you up with his other hand.
“Guess I am.” You laugh. You feel around for the unused napkin in your pocket. “Either of you have a pen or pencil?” You raise a brow. Bo’s honestly never seen Vincent react so fast, feeling around he pulls out an art pencil, you write down your number on the napkin against the wall then hand it to the longer haired twin. “I’ll be gone for the next two weeks, but text me and call me. When I get back we’re hanging out okay?” You explain. Vincent nods. You kiss his cheek. And wave at the two of them as you head out to your car.
“Ho Lee Shit! Look at you Vincent! You got a date in two weeks! Haha look at you! Look at you!” Bo was practically jumping up and down, so unlike him but it felt good. Vincent blushes and scoffs.
“Shut up.”
Bo wraps an arm around his twin and the two head through the bar and two Bi’s truck to head back home.
Now all Vincent had to do was get a phone and figure out how it worked.
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Yeah! Last Friday night I wasn't me. I was a still life trapped in eternity. I was the focal point; out of focus, out of ink.
Oh no. Sam perked up like a golden retriever, his blond head peeking over the refrigerator door and toward the sound of the loud howling amplified voice. No way, how did he…
And I've been wandering nightly through the garden of your heartache, always making a mess, always stumbling out the door. But I don't wanna be an asshole anymore. Baby, baby I'll be good to you.
He quickly closed the door to the fridge and headed toward the living room. For the first time tonight, he’s not polite about shouldering his way through the crowd of party goers. He knew that voice, but he’s not sure why it was here and now in this context. He knew the other was here of course, knew he had immediately started drinking once he was in the door, but they’d been watching him, making sure he didn’t do something stupid. Something like this. Sam entered the living room and straight away saw his roommate across the room absolutely growling into a microphone.
All I ever wanted was to make things right. The years of idleness and spite have pushed my emotions off a bridge, after taking them hostage with a shotgun.
Unlike when he rapped or tried to sing though, it was good. Really good. Sam scanned the room, the crowd loving the performance, maybe a little too much. He was definitely going to owe Puck and Jacob some money if the mosh pit forming started to trash the house like some punk show. He ended up meeting Kurt’s eyes over the group and he mouthed, what the fuck? But his other roommate looked just as shocked by Brett’s voice, so full of rage and pain. It was a guttural, raspy thing that belonged on stages of dive bars. Huh. Maybe Brett had only needed to find his niche.
You're the only lover that I ever missed, ever been hopelessly in love with. Look at this tangle of thorns. I don't wanna be an asshole anymore.
But quickly, the surprise wore off and was replaced with a concerned horror when Brett was lifted onto the hands of a couple of jocks, crowd surfing and once they started to throw him into the air, Sam was moving closer. “Nope, no!” He called out, instantly taking Brett from the intoxicated, overhyped jocks. He had him over his shoulder in an instant and was about to head toward the front door when he saw Kitty also about to be lifted into the air. “Nope,” he yelled, using the momentum to get her over his other shoulder instead. With both Brett and Kitty thrown on top of his shoulders, he headed toward the front door over the sound of the others hollering and whistling. Thankfully Kurt was there to help open the doors and make sure they got in Sam’s truck alright. “I’ll see you back at the house later. Try to enjoy the rest of the party, I got them. Can you make sure Blaine makes it out alright?”
He still sent his best friend a text with an apology then climbed in the driver’s seat. He was careful driving home, never so thankful to be a DD before. Sam took them one at a time into the house, gentle as he laid Brett in bed then debating a minute before carrying Kitty to his bedroom. She’d fallen asleep on the drive here and he gathered some clothes before trying to carefully nudge Kitty awake. “Hey, Kitty. You think you can change for me? I’m going to check on Brett. Just change and open the door, okay? Then you can get back to sleep.” He left her to it and went to go check on Brett, pausing at the other’s bedroom threshold when he didn’t see him in the bed where he’d left him. “Shit… Brett!” He searched the house and only hesitated a little when he saw the light in the hallway bathroom on. Sam twisted the handle and walked in, but he was still too late. Taking in the sight of Brett with a pair of scissors, more than half of his hair scattered around in roughly cut clumps. Needless to say, it was a night.
It took almost another two hours before the blond was able to finally go back to his room, sighing in relief when he saw that at least the Cheerio was where he left her. He would never admit that just maybe his heart did a little thump when he saw her dressed in his clothes, tucked into his bed. Sam let the extra blankets and pillows he’d gotten from the hallway closet fall and set up a makeshift bed on the floor. In minutes, he was out like a light, knowing his internal clock would still wake him up soon so he could make breakfast for his surprise guest.
#wmacevent001#wmachomecoming#goldenkwilde#/also @ everyone feel free to reference these events once again xoxo#also so sorry u must see this long ass post bye
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Silk & Cologne (20)
A Miguel O’Hara x OC series - link to AO3 (X)
Chapter 20 - Kiss - previous chapters (X)
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Female OC
Words: 4.4K+ words
Warnings: PG for classic Disney musical number and predator Miguel instincts
Summary: Lisa and Petra set off to rescue Miguel
////
“Lisa, what happened?” Lyla’s virtual form fizzled before me as she searched the room frantically. “I lost Miguel’s signal, what’s going on?”
I pointed at the destroyed glass window and she turned, her jaw dropping. “Oh, shock,”
“You could say that again,” I groaned.
“Oh shock,” Lyla repeated, shaking her head before she turned back to face me.
“It gets worse,” I grimaced.
I picked up Miguel’s broken gizmo from the floor and showed it to her. Lyla’s hands reached up to her mouth as she gasped, zipping over to hover over my hand as she analyzed the damage. “Oh, no, oh this is really bad,”
“Can it be repaired?” Petra asked with concern.
“Unfortunately it’s beyond repair,” Lyla sighed before looking up at me. “I heard Miguel scream before I lost his signal. Lisa, what did this?”
“One of Petra’s maids turned into a bat demon,” I answered, lowering my head. “I didn’t see the initial transformation like Petra did, but she took his body and flew through the window and out into the outskirts of the kingdom,”
“It was horrible,” Petra shivered, “My spider-sense didn’t detect her treachery. She was my friend, and so was Miguel. . .”
“We’ll bring Miguel back, Petra, that is very much certain,” I stated with a firm nod, my fingers curling into a fist. “Lyla, this is an emergency situation. Can you call Jessica to come down and help us?”
“Um, about that. . .” Lyla seemed to hesitate, tapping her fingers together nervously.
“What’s wrong, Lyla?” I asked, a pit of worry growing in my stomach.
“I’ll still call her, but, unfortunately she can’t come on this mission,” Lyla sighed in disappointment.
She swerved to the side as Jessica’s caller ID appeared beside her. After a few rings, Jessica answered, her holographic image taking form. She appeared to be sitting down, her baby bump had grown a little since I had last seen her.
“Lisa, Petra, please tell me you have some good news,” Jessica panted, her forehead riddled with sweat.
“I’m afraid not, Lady Drew,” Petra shook her head in remorse.
“What’cha talking about?” Jessica raised a suspicious brow. “Where is Miguel?”
“That’s why Lyla called. Miguel was kidnapped and his Gizmo got busted,” I explained with a worried expression.
I could see the guilt and frustration build up in Jessica’s eyes as she smacked herself in the head. She cursed under her breath. “Oh, lord have mercy. . .”
“Jessica, easy,” Spider-Doc’s voice came through the speaker as he came to Jessica’s side. “Remember your deep breathing,”
“Doc, what’s wrong with Jessica?” I asked with worry.
“I’m afraid she’s not fit for duty at the moment. She’s experiencing minor Braxton-Hicks contractions,” He explained before crying out in pain.
Jessica had tightened her grip on his hand, appearing to be literally crushing it. “You call this minor?!”
“In medical terms, yes,” he gasped as she released him, shaking off the pain.
“I’d do anything to help you rescue the big guy, you two, but you heard the Doc. I’m unfortunately not going anywhere,” Jessica shook her head. “But I can send Gwen and Pav in my stead. I trust her to help handle things, and I’ll inform Margo whip up a new Gizmo for Miguel,”
“Thanks, Jessica, that’s more than enough,” I smiled in relief. “Hope you feel better soon,”
“Tell Lady Gwen and Sir Pav to meet us on the outskirts of the village,” Petra instructed politely. “I believe I may know where our friend is hiding Lord O’Hara,”
///////
Petra and I arrived at the outskirts of the village, overlooking another part of the forest. The part of it that wasn’t contaminated with mosh. Within moments, a portal opened up as Gwen and Pav emerged from the opposite end.
“We came as quickly as we could,” Gwen panted, appearing to have been running and out of breath.
“You’re right on time, Lady Gwen,” Petra reassured the Ghost-Spider with a soft smile. “Lady Lisa and I have just arrived. You must be Pav,”
“Your highness,” Pav offered Petra a curt smile as he bowed respectfully, his luscious hair dangling.
“Would we have time for pleasantries, I’d love to get properly acquainted, but time is of the essence,” Petra stated as she pointed inward through the forest. “Beyond some ways away through those trees lies a gorge, and within that gorge is a cave that was once home to a demon summoning cult,”
“You’re absolutely sure that’s where Isabella took Miguel?” I asked her for clarity.
She nodded firmly. “I’m very sure. I’ve dealt with monsters in that dwelling before, this will be no different,”
“Then let’s not waste any more time. We don’t know how long Miguel could have been glitching for,” Gwen responded with urgency.
“I just hope we can make it to save him in time,” Pav shared the same level of urgency, though his voice was laced with worry.
“You have the extra Gizmo?” I asked Gwen.
She reached back into her pocket, showing it off. Pav also reached into his back and handed me an extra music player. I gasped, my eyes widening as I silently thanked Pav for the surprise as I slipped it into my holister for safe keeping.
“Good. Hang on to it for me until I tell you to pass it along,” I instructed. “Isabella wants me and only me to go through her challenge. Let’s move out,”
The four of us activated our web shooters as we slinged and swung through the forest like trained acrobats in the late night sky, the full moon shining down on us. Pav swung near me, hovering at my side. I couldn’t help but notice he kept his knees up when he swung. It was actually kind of adorable.
“So how exactly did this happen?” He asked.
“Isabella turned into a bat demon, claiming that Spider-Freaks were invading their kingdom and knocked Miguel unconscious and placed a curse on him,” I explained.
“A curse?!” Pav gasped.
“Unless Lady Lisa can get past her stone golem and free Lord O’Hara from the curse, he will remain in slumber for eternity,” Petra quickly added.
“Or if the glitching of his atoms doesn’t kill him first,” Gwen grumbled in despair as she swung ahead of us.
“What kind of curse?” Pav asked. “How does Isabella expect Lisa to free Mr. O’Hara?”
My cheeks flushed, a ting of embarrassment showing on my face. My memories drifted back to our dinner, at Pav’s realization that I may be developing feelings for Miguel and his reassuring words of encouragement. Did I want to give him the satisfaction and confirm my true feelings on the matter?
“. . . An act of true love,” I answered.
Pav gasped loudly, his free hand cupping the side of his face. “You mean true love’s kiss?!”
“How did you guess that?” I gawked at the young boy. “An act could be a multitude of things!”
“But that’s the most effective,” I could hear the smirk on his face as he winked at me. “You like Mr. O’Hara! I knew it, I knew it!”
“Let’s focus on the mission, Pav,” Gwen yelled from her position. “Miguel’s life is literally in danger!”
“Right, right, you’re right, Gwen, the mission is important,” Pav collected himself, composing his emotions.
///////
We arrived at the gorge and quickly found the cave that Petra described. She wasn’t kidding about it previously being overrun by cultist demons. Strange drawings and glyphs written in paint littered the walls as we walked through the entrance of the cave. When we came to the other end, it was an open clearing with a large pit at the bottom that was shaped like an arena.
Passing the arena, my eyes quickly recognized Miguel’s form as his body had been placed on an old altar, left to slumber on his back.
“Miguel!” I cried out, my voice filled with relief now that I laid eyes on him.
The others and I began to race forward but stopped when a large black winged beast flew past us, the wind blowing harshly as we steeled ourselves. Isabella flew upwards, flipping her body so that she clung to a stone spike on the ceiling, her hair dangling in the air. “So you’ve come,”
“You thought we wouldn’t?” I raised a brow at the bat demon.
“Isabella, you can still stop this. Release Lord O’Hara and we can talk this out in a peaceful manner,” Petra stepped forward trying profusely to reach out to her friend that hopefully lingered still inside the beast.
“NO!” She roared. Pointing a clawed finger towards me. “The deal was for her to accept my challenge,”
I could feel my body shudder as stones and boulders within the pit began to shake and merge together, forming a big stone golem. The guardian of the cave Isabella had mentioned earlier. So that was the thing I had to get passed in order to get to Miguel?
“It’s okay, Petra,” I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think she’ll budge on an alternative,”
“Are you going to enchant it with your powers?” Gwen asked.
“Hopefully,” I sighed, loosening my shoulders as I warmed myself up.
“You can do this, Lady Lisa,” Petra offered me an encouraging nod. “Just sing from the heart,”
“Show that golem that love conquers all!” Pav cheered.
I handed Pav the spare music player that Byte made for me. He pressed the play button as the melody began to play. I bobbed my head, getting a feel of the music and the beat it made. “Here it goes,”
I took a deep breath, taking a moment to compose and steel myself for what was to come. I opened my eyes, firing a web sling as I vaulted myself into the pit below and faced the stone golem. Its red eyes glared at me as it raised a fist and swung towards me. Time to dance!
[Song: One Kiss by Sofia Carson from Descendants 3] (X)
“Don't freak out, it's okay
'Cause true love can save the day
And I think we feel the same
But I don't know~”
I jumped out of the way of the punch, firing a web to sling myself onto its hand as I began to run up its arm. I fired some web fluid into its orbs and it groaned in frustration, staggering back a step. My footsteps were loud against its rough terrain, able to feel where I was climbing as it swung for me with its other hand.
“When we met, it was sweet
He was oh so into me
Seems like things are meant to be
But I don't know~”
I front flipped out of the way, channeling some power into kicking it in the face. The golem fell back completely and collapsed to the ground. I saw my chance, jumping off its body as I began to run for the other side of the pit to reach Miguel, but then the ground shook violently at my feet as I stumbled.
“Does he love me? Or does he love me not?
Do I love him? And is it strong enough?~”
I turned around to see the golem slam its hands into the ground. Its body made a 180 U-turn with its body, standing itself back up right and faced me completely. I glanced between it and up at Miguel’s unconscious form on the altar.
“One kiss, one kiss
It all comes down to this
One kiss, one kiss
Ooh~”
I whined a hiss from my lips, quickly shooting another web fluid at its face before making a break towards the opposite end to the pit once more.
“One kiss, one kiss
This moment could be it
I, I, I wanna know
So here I go~”
I fired two web slings and yanked on the robe, propelling me forward as Pav, Petra, and Gwen watched on in anticipation. “Oh, oh, oh–!”
When it looked like I was going to make the jump, my spider-sense went off as I felt something tightly tug at my legs. I turned around to see the golem reach its hand out and grab me and tossed me back the opposite way, crashing into a boulder. Thank GOD for the enhanced Spidey-strength or I would be a dead Spider-Muse right now.
Oh GOD, I agreed on Hobie’s Spider name for me didn’t I?
“OH!” The trio winced at the hit.
“Keep it cool, keep it calm
Think he's loved me all along
But maybe I got it wrong
So I don't know~”
I pulled myself free from the rubble, desperately shaking off the hit. My eyes widened as the golem threw another boulder at me. I managed to roll and swerve my body away from the incoming projectile. I fired a web at his chest, vaulting me forward as I channeled my power and activated my webbed gloves, glowing their golden hue as I struck the golem.
“He's so good, got my back
But maybe I'm just too bad
Could we be a perfect match?
Now, I don't know~”
The golem stumbled back as I landed firmly on the ground. I dashed forward, going to try and bust his stone knee-caps and shins. He didn’t take kindly to that as he swung for me. I did my best to serve and duck around his swings.
“Does he love me? Or does he love me not?”
Finally he grew tired and decided to straight up squish me with his fist. I raised my arms above my head, crossing them as I channeled more power into my fists as the golden hue intensified. When the fist came down, I grunted, kneeling closer to the ground as I managed to stop him from completely squishing me as my leg muscles screamed for relief.
“Do I love him? And is it strong enough?
Ooh-ooh-ooh!~”
With a loud grunt I put everything I had into lifting my arms and shoving the golem’s fist away from my form. His stone ridged arm flew back and smacked himself in the face as it recoiled. Taking a few steps back, he composed itself and I began to stalk towards it.
“One kiss, one kiss
It all comes down to this
One kiss, one kiss
Ooh~”
I could hear Petra and the others cheering me on, offering words of encouragement. I cracked my knuckles, flexing and shaking off my fingers before I charged at the golem as it went in for another punch. I met it half way, firing a web to sling me forward to meet its momentum and channeled my golden punch one more and broke through its hand, tumbling into rubble.
“One kiss, one kiss
This moment could be it
I, I, I wanna know
So here I go~”
The golem fell forward, landing on its side as I walked past it. Isabella snarled, giving it a command but I paid it little mind. I gaze shifted towards Miguel’s sleeping form on the altar above us and I continued moving forward.
“Yeah, here I go~”
Rumbling caught my ear as my spider-sense kicked back up again. I turned back to see rocks flying towards me and I managed to duck down out of the way of the incoming fire. I stood up only to see the rocks flying back pounded into me, and carried me as the rocks around me formed back into the golem’s hand as I was now caught in its grasp.
“I feel my heartbeat beating saying, "It's gonna work"
But if I'm dream-dream-dreaming, this is gonna hurt,”
The golem hurled me around like I was a toy and it was a little toddler having the time of his life. He slammed his fist into the ground, knocking me around senselessly, dragging me across the wall. It was painful, not to mention aggravating. Every hit made me think back to all the times I was with Miguel. The good, not so good, and the ugly.
“Either I will or I won't
What if I do and he don't?
Is he my Romeo? Oh~”
When the golem pulled me out of the rubble, I could faintly see out of the corner of my eyes of Gwen, Petra, and Pav wanting to step in and help. But they held back, knowing it would break the deal I had made with Isabella. Even still, my gaze solely fell on Miguel’s form, and I felt my heart flutter. Something snapped in me, encouraging me to keep fighting.
Even if these feelings don’t fall through for us, Miguel was still my friend. He was still someone I cared for.
“There's only one, one way to really know~”
I managed to wiggled one of my hands free, slapping my hand onto its wrist. Web fluid leaked out as I sang a quick melody, enchanting it. Its orbs turned yellow as it released me. It stayed in its daze, allowing me to swing and zip through the air, creating dozens of webs around him and smacking them into its body.
Finally the golem released itself from my trance, its body getting stuck on my webs as I created a little platform for myself along the webs. Once the golem realized he had caught himself into my trap, a wicked grin curled on my lips as I crouched down, slamming the palms of my hands onto my platform.
“Heeeey!~”
All the interconnected webs of my trap glowed their golden hue and I raised my voice an extra octave, putting more power into my voice. It caused a chain reaction and there was a sudden explosion on the golem’s right side. When the smoke dispersed, it stumbled back and its right arm had shattered into tiny pebbles and dust.
“NO!” Isabella scowled.
“One kiss, one kiss
It all comes down to this
One kiss, one kiss
Ooh~”
One by one, small parts of the golem’s body began to explode. The more I sang, the more webs gave off the chain reaction around its body. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Pav shaking Gwen by her shoulders, freaking out as Petra cheered me on. A sense of pride swells through me.
“One kiss, one kiss
This moment could be it
I, I, I wanna know
So here I go~”
I ran and glided across the webs, chasing after the golem’s crumbling body. When I was close enough, I jumped onto its chest, running up its body. I leapt up from its head as the last of its body exploded.
“Here I go
Here I go
Here I go!~”
I fired a web and swung out of the fighting pit and landed safely mere feet away from the altar. I jogged up the steps and inched closer to Miguel’s sleeping form. I looked him over, my hands hovering above him, hesitating to touch him. Until I saw him glitch in front of me. It was awful, due to the curse, he couldn’t scream from the pain, but the way his body morphed and shifted before resetting. . .
“Gwen!” I shouted, looking back at her.
Gwen ran ahead, using her webs to sling shot the brand new gizmo towards me as Pav and Petra chased after her. I caught the gizmo in my hand before putting it on Miguel’s wrist, securing it tightly. My eyes trailed his body frantically, taking deep steady breaths to try and keep myself calm.
“Lyla, is he okay?” I asked nervously.
Lyla’s AI form appeared before Miguel as she hovered over him. The screen on his gizmo lit up with vital signs and beeps repeatedly. Lyla wiped virtual sweat from her forehead, sighing in relief. “You did it, Lisa! His body is restabilizing from the glitching,”
“Thank GOD,” I exalted a heavy sigh of relief as I leaned my hands against the side of the altar.
Lyla stayed silent, making sure everything else was running smoothly on the new Gizmo to finetune them back to Miguel’s preferred specifications. My eyes trailed over his form, up to his face. A felt a shiver course through me, my fingers beginning to tremble.
“Everything checks out okay,” Lyla spoke up, drifting towards me. “All that’s left to do is wake him up,”
I took small steps along the altar, walking closer towards Miguel’s face. There were butterflies in my stomach as my heart pounded in my chest, beating so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest. I slowly began to reach a hand out towards him, but stopped, hesitating as I pulled back.
“What’s wrong, Lisa?” Lyla asked me.
“What if he wakes up, realizes how I freed him, and he thinks of me differently?” I looked over at the AI with worry.
“Like in a bad way?” Lyla tilted her head to the side.
I slowly nodded my head.
Lyla gave me a soft smile. “Lisa, trust me when I tell you, Miguel can come off as a bit closed off. But behind the scenes? He likes you, Lisa. A lot more than he’s willing to tell, even to me,”
“You really think so?” My eyes widened a bit at her proclamation.
“I’ve seen the way you look at him,” she grinned. “—and I’ve seen the way he looks at you,”
A blush formed on my cheeks. I glanced down towards Miguel’s face. To his lips.
“Tell you what; I’ll leave the call to you on how you want to explain this to him. You can be fully honest about your feelings or play it safe,” Lyla explained as she hovered down and patted my head. “Your secret is safe with me, girlie,”
“Thank you, Lyla,” I smiled.
Lyla fizzled away to give me some privacy. I managed a deep breath to compose myself, steadying my nerves. I reached my hand out, gently caressing Miguel’s face, my thumb brushing against his cheek.
“Please, please, let this work,” I uttered a small prayer.
Closing my eyes, I leaned and pressed a gentle kiss to Miguel’s lips.
It was a small, little peck, not meaning to overstay my advance, as this felt like a strange invasion of privacy even if it was saving him. But his puffed lips were soft, the complete opposite of his demeanor. I pulled back softly, watching him closely.
There was a gentle pulse of a magical aura coursing through him and then his arm shifted. A groan escaped him as he opened his eyes. He slowly sat up, lifting a hand to his head.
“Dios mío, mi cabeza. . .” He grumbled under his breath. - My god, my head.
My eyes widened at the sight as I took a step back in disbelief. I could hear Pav and the others cheering in the background, but I was so focused on Miguel that I had tuned them out. I was so happy and relieved that a small cry escaped me. I placed a hand over my heart, monitoring my heart beat as it pulsed quickly.
“You’re awake!”
“Lisa?” Miguel mumbles as his eyes adjust to his new surroundings. His gaze fixed on me and his eyes went wide. “Lisa!”
He tried to move and stand from the altar, but he growled, instantly reaching for his side. The growl sounded like something from a feral animal as he hissed from the pain. I came to his side, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Go slow, Lyla said you had been glitching for a minute there while you were under,” I explained, slowly helping him stand to his feet.
“What happened? I remembered the meeting in the lounge back at the castle. There was this light and then–,” Miguel hissed as he shook his head, the memory alluding him. “- nothing,”
“Isabella, Petra’s maid, was a demon in disguise. She put a curse on you and brought you here,” I recalled the events as I glanced down to see the bad demon at the bottom of the pit, weeping over her crumbled golem.
“What kind of curse?” He asked, looking down into my eyes.
I could feel my cheeks warming up at the question. I thought back to what Lyla said, the butterflies in my stomach returning as my fingers fiddled nervously along his shoulder. “Well–”
“YOU WENCH!” Isabella suddenly screamed.
Her form jumped from the pit and she shook the ground at our feet as she landed before us. I immediately stepped in front of Miguel, raising my arms in a protective manner. “I completed your challenge. The bargain was made,”
“No, my bargain was for you to get past my golem, not destroy it!” She roared.
“It didn’t exactly let me go easy,” I grumbled, narrowing my eyes at the demon.
“You don’t deserve it, no one deserves true love!” She screamed.
She reached into her back, pulling out a large sword and rose it in the air in a threatening manner. I gasped loudly, eyes wide as my legs suddenly froze, not wanting to move as she swung the sword down towards me.
“Miguel, RUN–!” I screamed until I saw a tall figure move by me.
It happened in slow motion. I watched as Miguel stood in front of me, raising his hands as he summoned his talons and caught the blade of the sword in his hands. My knees buckled at the impact, listening to him growl under his breath as the pupils of his eyes turned from his soft brown to feral red. With a heavy snarl, I watched as his talons sliced through the metal of the blade, tearing it to shreds.
The metal pieces cluttered to the floor, Miguel’s chest rising and falling as he bereaved heavily, starring Isabella down like a predator intimidating his prey. Isabella let out a cry, and before she could make another move, webs shot out from behind her as Gwen, Petra, and Pav yanked her away from the two of us.
Isabella struggled in the webbing as Miguel began to stalk towards her. He stared down at her with cold, menacing eyes. “Anyone who dares lay a hand on my Lady, will answer to me,”
My heart skipped a beat, my blush darkening.
Miguel rose his head, seeing Petra’s smile as he shot her a wink. He turned back to return to my side as Petra and the others webbed the demon in a cocoon.
“Now we’re even,” he grinned.
“Yeah, I suppose so,” I nodded slowly, the blush still evident on my face.
He offered me his hand, “Shall we return home, Lady Lisa?”
I smiled at him as I took his hand in mine, squeezing it tightly. “Yes, Lord O’Hara,”
///////
Live a like or comment if you want to be added to the tag list! Tagged:
@0eye0, @sadgurlstar , @uhnanix , @r1dd1kulus, @the-lululemon, @kirablommuwu @kenacole @kuinnoa, @devotedlyatomicdeer @hltendo , @r0sib3lleeditx @noahspector @senicrile
#silk & cologne#miguel o’hara#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x oc#miguel o'hara x spiderpersona#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara fluff#spider man 2099#spiderverse spoilers#spider-man#spider-man 2099#miguel spiderverse#spiderverse oc#spider-man: across the spider-verse#across the spiderverse#across the spider-verse spoilers#across the spider-verse fanart#spiderman across the spiderverse#spider-man: across the Spiderverse#atsv#spiderman atsv#atsv spoilers#atsv miguel o'hara#fluff#slow burn#rivals to lovers
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Is there anything your fans do at shows that really annoys you and we should avoid doing
Not much really—would prefer it if people didn’t ask for my number/hit on me, or ask me to sign their tits—but even then it doesn’t deeply bother me, I just politely say no or stop the conversation. Also would prefer it if people didn’t touch me when they jump up onstage to stage dive. I get in the heat of the moment someone may wanna put their arm around me, and I don’t mind a simple high five onstage or something like that, so again it’s ultimately not the end of the world or deeply bothersome; just not ideal.
By and large our fans are very, very considerate and chill. I love talking to everyone and having meaningful conversations. It warms my heart so much when people tell me our show was their first show ever, or their first stage dive, first mosh pit, etc, so I will continue to be generally available.
Nothing deeply annoys me, but there are some general things that would be nice not experiencing altogether. Thank you for asking!
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Re: Concert Unwritten Rules - Need Help
Nova! I'm gonna attend the very first (and probably the last) concert in my life! I guess that your CONRT exp must be quite high, so I was wondering if you've amassed some sort of unwritten rules and observations about concert attendance so that I don't accidentally ruin someone's experience out of ignorance or something.
Is it allowed to wave your arms? Shall I collect every trash in the same row I'm sitting in after it's over? How do you tell someone to stop putting flash on their cameras usually?
Or just your general observations about concerts that you wish more people will understand!
Thanks a bunch!
Ooh! I’ve been quite blessed to have gone to a handful of concerts these last few years, so I’d like to think you’ve come to the right person 👀
To answer your questions:
1) It is 100% allowed and even encouraged to stand up and wave your arms like crazy! The fact about concerts is you’re among people who love the music just as much as you do- chances are they‘ll be dancing around too ✌️ Fair warning: if you’re in seats, it’s not uncommon to be placed in front of people who’d prefer to stay seated. You won’t be pestered for it in most cases though- most would agree you’re within your right to enjoy the concert however you want, even if they grumble about it a little to themselves. If you’re ever unsure of what to do though, you can always just follow the flow of the crowd. Even concertos can get rowdy in the right circumstances <(~w~)/
2) This is a very kind gesture that would almost certainly be appreciated by the custodial staff, and I’d hate to steer you away from it. If you have the means to pick up multiple pieces of trash, why not! That said, it’s already a huge help to only pick up after yourself,
3) I’ve found a pretty polite way to ask someone to turn their flash off is first to inform them that their flash is on. If it was unintentional, they’ll probably thank you and turn it off. If it was intentional however, you could always ask them to please tilt it in a way that isn’t blinding you lol. I think the key is to keep your comments lighthearted. That said there are sometimes moments where it is encouraged to have your flash on, but hopefully they’ll be shining it at the band and not in your face!
I’m trying to think of any other nugget of information I may have for ya… I guess if you come across any grumpy-looking people, try not to take their behavior too much to heart? Some people don’t like to get up, and others have RBF. My sister doesn’t get up at concerts if she doesn’t recognize the song for example, and she gets anxious in large crowds which causes her to look a little grumpy. It doesn’t mean she’s judging everyone else for having a good time! She’s just overstimulated and trying to ground herself by staying still.
Oh, another tip would be to carry some earplugs. Don’t worry, it won’t block out the music! If anything it kind of amplifies it? But anyway it’s solely for protecting your eardrums from particularly loud sounds and cheers and speakers. I don’t anticipate you developing damage to your hearing after just one concert so if you opt out it’s no big deal. That said, I always walk out of concerts with ringing ears when I forget to bring my earplugs, so if this happens to you, here’s a tip: You can minimize/eliminate the ringing by placing your palms over your ears, and drumming lightly on the back of your head for at least 15 seconds. That should do the trick! If not, a simple good night’s rest should be enough to get things back in order.
Hmm what else… I guess the only other thing I can think of is to take care around mosh pits? You mentioned seats so you should be ok, but a mosh pit may happen whenever people are standing shoulder to shoulder on an open floor. It’s basically a little mob of people running around shoving each other in a circle. It’s not hard to avoid, the crowd naturally forms a big enough circle to accommodate for it, but if you ever find yourself too close to the action, no one will be offended if you guide/push people who stumble too close to you back into the circle. Take care of yourself though!
Uhmmm… it’s become standard practice for artists to pretend to end a show then come back for the true finale once the audience asks for an encore, so make sure to linger in case another song starts playing 👀 Unless you want to get to your transportation early to beat the traffic haha. Also, I’ve only ever seen one artist come back for two encores, so if the artist leaves after the first encore it’s probably safe to assume they’re done. Especially if the brighter event lights used for visibility come back on.
That’s all I can think of at the moment… I’ll have to consult my other concert going friends for any tips I may have missed… otherwise! I hope this helped somewhat :)
#ask Nova anything#hope this helped a little! I’d love to hear about the concert when you come back#hopefully I’m not too late with this response tho haha..
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Tagged by @teamgreenheart thank you beloved :]
LAST SONG: Crane Your Neck by Lady Lamb. Thank you Ku for introducing me to her, she’s truly an incredible artist. (Don’t ask which playlist this was in, though. No Sir.)
LAST SHOW: Show as in live concert? My Chemical Romance in Berlin—I’m all healed up now after the mosh pit incident and got a cool scar from it. Show as in TV show? Better Call Saul, and it absolutely shattered my heart into pieces.
CURRENTLY WATCHING: I’ve been meaning to continue watching For All Mankind. I watched the first two episodes and they’re pretty good so far, albeit slow. Going to watch Decision to Leave when I’m done with all my beta reading duties...
CURRENTLY READING: The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin (about halfway through and I’m absolutely in love with it), Jeder stirbt für sich allein by Hans Fallada, and Except for Palestine: The Limits of Progressive Politics by Marc Lamont Hill and Mitchell Plitnick. Slowly chipping away at the to-read list from another tag game at the beginning of the year.
As for fics, switching between re-reading my Big Bang author buddy @tetrapod7 ’s fic and @thelittlebirdthatkeptsomanywarm ’s BB fic. Loving them already so far, but my god my attention span has been so shot lately :cryfool:
CURRENT OBSESSION: Omar Apollo’s latest album, Ivory. Spezi, and I’m not even a soda drinker (Profluence). My favorite café’s latest single origin espresso (they rotate the beans regularly). Watching Penske Games. And still motorsports in general, unfortunately. With Formula E concluded and IndyCar ending soon, I will dive back into World Rallycross and maybe even dip my toes into WRC. Only very sporadically watching NASCAR this season, but the races I watched have been enjoyable too.
Tagging @lepetitcharles @lew1s @queerbenched @guanyu-ilott @applesojus @ivettel and everyone who sees this and wants to do it too :]
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Martha’s Vineyard- Red Show Diaries
A giant eye spray painted on a tarp looms over a makeshift stage next to an apartment complex, as two lights border on seizure inducing, a stolen traffic sign leaned against an electric guitar case, tragically hip students like myself stand around, waiting for the show to start. The venue calls itself Martha’s Vineyard, a great name I admit. You have to know someone to get in or hope the venue responds to your direct message begging for its location, luckily I’m in the first camp, not to brag. There may or may not be a bar indoors, if there is it’s just a joke, if there isn’t then they could have one if they wanted to, they’re cool enough. Cigarette smoke hangs in the air as a Spotify playlist placates the attendees' need for sound. Giggling girls in skirts too short for this weather start taking pictures of the scene five minutes before show, sound system assembled and ready to spew. Other notables include a couple leaning against the building, old enough to have drank the night of September 11th, 2001, a sound tech in overalls Spider-Man jumping from sound board to dirt patch and then to stage, and the doorman for the night, making change out of his Fanny pack. I type a description of the scene to avoid making eye contact with anyone.
Band one: Wyatt Wyatt covering Death Grips. Emcee breathily announces the show in a sort of makeshift fanfare, thanking us all for coming. Makeshift, that’s how I describe the scene to my family who would surely warn me not to hang out in dark alleys like this, but I digress. What the fuck is up, the singer announces, a single performer on stage, neck muscles straining as guttural rap comes out their mouth. After the opener, they take a moment to catch their breath and declare the next song to be an original. I wouldn’t know if it wasn’t, I’m not hip, nor will I ever claim to be such. Another Death Grips cover follows, each time they cue music I jump a little, a nasty habit I’ll never outgrow. A wall of sound washes over me, if I was more luxurious I could compare it to a massage of some sort, but I’m not, so there’s nothing to compare the the gentle pulsing of my rib cage to. People hang out of the upstairs bedroom watching the show. They claim the next song is tender, anyone who thinks it would be should be at a Jimmy Buffett concert instead (no shame in that, I enjoy a trip to Margaritaville). Wyatt Wyatt feigns meditation mid song, dedicating the set to the Mariners, they just got into the playoffs I think. There’s no citations for the rest of the performance. The music was sick and all but most impressively, while working the soundboard, screaming and flailing Wyatt Wyatt appears to have not broken into a glistening sweat. The crowd breaks into a mosh pit and dirt smogs the scene, I’d join in but I'm only 92 pounds of small town polite. I choose my battles. Wyatt Wyatt jumps in the crowd, bumping and crashing with their adoring public.
Dirt no longer clogs the air, having been replaced by the thin veil of cigarette smoke, from a brief intermission. Some Fucking Vegan comes the the stage, their set is all originals. They seem much more rock-oriented, which I know remarkably more about than Death Grips. The guitarist and bassist pass a smoke between them as the opening chords play. They sing a song mentioning cigarettes, I think this is intentional, if it isn’t, I’ll just pretend it is. They proclaim the next song is pretty chill, and this time it’s not a joke. It’s a song called “Get Off my Fucking Lawn” and it’s about a breakup, I would have cried to this when I was in high school, and, hell, I’d cry to it now if such an occasion arose. Young adult heads bob along, occasionally bending their knees ever so slightly, in understanding. Their next song is about going to a strip club at the age 18. They’re a collective they say, no set roster, come and jam, they say as another member comes to stage, becoming the frontman. This band feels familiar, I listened to a lot of indie rock as a teen, so it’s comfort food at this point. My favorite song is their penultimate number called “Sand in your Gas Tank” take a wild guess as to what it’s about. They wish a happy birthday to Oleander, who invited me here, happy birthday Oleander.
The next band declares themselves the Pixies for the night. I saw them in the ninth grade, their assertion isn't sacrilegious. Their sound is powerful, and my eardrums will undoubtedly suffer come morning, but what have they ever done for me? I check the poster, their name is Punch Buggy. Their lead singer goes between a killer Wilhelm scream, and a normal singing voice. Two guys fight each other next to me. They hug each other after, exchanging names, they’ll either be friends until tomorrow morning, or for many years to come. They scream “it’s educational!” And it is. Cue "Where is my Mind", Fight Club credits roll, etc. this is my niche. A song later, they change drummers, their usual drummer just got back in country, Oleander substituted for him. Happy birthday Oleander. After their set ends, sirens sound, deadly silent, as everyone prepares to run. Oh wait it’s just a fire truck, someone says, news ripples, back to the festivities.
Pleasant Bus Stop is next, the only band I knew about prior to this, and they are Joy Division for the night. Oh hey it’s Oleander’s band. Happy birthday Oleander. Wyatt Wyatt is in the band too, it’s a real crossover episode. You’d know Oleander and Liv (drummer) from their other band, Ponzi. It’s 10pm and they play a song I’ve listened to countless times, I know the title, but I got six hours of sleep so it’s all Greek to me. "She’s Lost Control" is next, which I somehow identify despite not knowing "Disorder" five minutes ago. The rest of the set will be originals, the audience chants happy birthday to Oleander. Happy birthday Oleander. They play an original love song, then a song about not remembering who someone is in public. In a previous review of a Ponzi performance I said Oleander wields their instrument like a machine gun, this is true for Pleasant Bus Stop Oleander as well, they are armed and ready to kill. Their final song I heard them play as Ponzi, and yet again, Oleander is a mercenary on the strings, with Liv and Wyatt Wyatt backing them up excellently. Happy birthday Oleander.
In between bands I watch four freshmen from San Diego become acquainted, I hope they stay friends, those little fellas warm my heart. Finally, The Toolsmen take the stage, and make small talk with the audience about Seinfeld. After their first song, another siren, another silence, until we see the long red truck. They're covering 00’s pop punk songs, I let myself bob awkwardly to the music, a new person leans over the window upstairs, people hug each other, and jump in clusters of uncertain post-pubescent ecstasy. Someone in a cowboy hat holds hands with two friends and just lets the music flow through them. They call on the audience to tell them good news, but they don't wait for it, one of their friends got engaged. Another Modern Baseball song. A spontaneous mosh breaks out and the dusty cloud returns for an encore, but then the crowd gives up and just goes back to jumping along. Another siren, a song called "the beers" is up next, uh oh. It’s just an ambulance, a nice change of pace there. The crowd chants along, cellphones raised so they don’t forget. Someone comes on stage, in about an 75 minutes he'll be 21. Happy birthday Sam. "My Own Worst Enemy" plays. I usually hate the song but fuck can these guys rock it. Five dudes squeezed on a suggestion of a stage in an alleyway comes off more authentic to the dirtbag motif. They announce there’s seven minutes until someone can call the cops on us. It’s the last song. Front Bottoms. I see a girl with a wall of blue texts sent to someone she must care about, I see a guy downing a drink in one go, and I see someone of an undetermined gender kicking their legs like they’re the circle jerks guy. Dust rises like the tide and hands are in the air. Encore, three minutes left. We’re gonna go quick they say, We want to see people jump, the crowd obliges. 5…4…3…2…1…. Song ends, it’s eleven, goodnight. Happy birthday Oleander.
People ask me why I like these shows so much, standing alone in crowds of people I’ll never know, despite my severe social anxiety. I won’t know an answer then, but as I write this, I know it’s because I become no one here, I’m just a tent pole taking notes, some people come with friends to bond, others seek one another out, clinging to any connection they can form, but I come to escape the image I set for myself, disguising myself as me, no need to seem interesting, no compulsion to wear my heart on my sleeve, just noise. And I think that’s Seattle. A city of strangers who will never know each other, connecting with every drop of rain hitting the dirty pavement. In a city ravaged by tech bro culture, there's a venue in the U District, where the true citizens of Seattle reclaim her dirty, unkempt, pure form, ruled by dead rockstars and a crushed up, slightly damp can of booze in an alleyway called Martha’s Vineyard.
-Sommer Holloway
www.sommerholloway.net
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Jewish Community Welcomes Minister Ebrard for Mural Unveiling
Foreign Minister Marcelo Ebrard attended the presentation of the mural "Am Yisrael Chai" by Mexican artist Julio Carrasco Bretón at the Monte Sinai Cultural Center in Mexico City last night at the invitation of the Jewish community.
In his speech, Secretary Ebrard pointed out that the mural is:
"historic not only for its dimensions but for everything it represents."
"It has a lot to do with the origin of Mexico, with the way we Mexicans express ourselves and a powerful pictorial current, muralist, that determines or defines Mexico's contribution to the world."
“It is not only that it is a monumental work, it is not only that it tells an extraordinary story that is the history of the Jewish people, four thousand years, but it also synthesizes the relationship between the people of Mexico, the Jewish-Mexican community and the people From Israel".
“We are a country that prides itself on its deep tradition of receiving anyone who needs refuge,”
The 44-meter-long mural "Historical Image of the Origin and Creation of the State of Israel" whose final destination will be Tel Aviv, Israel, synthesizes the four thousand years of history of the people of Israel.
The event was attended by the Minister of Diaspora Affairs of Israel, Amichai Chikli; the mayor of Samaria, Yossi Dagan; the Israeli ambassador in Mexico, Zvi Tal; the president and founder of the Israel Latin American Network Foundation (ILAN), Isaac Assa Farca; the president of the Monte Sinai Community, Alberto Kichik; former half-track commander in the Israeli Armored Corps, Moshe Levy; the Mexican artist dedicated to mural painting, Julio Carrasco Bretón; and the Undersecretary for Multilateral Affairs and Human Rights, Martha Delgado Peralta.
Foreign Minister Marcelo Ebrard Full Speech:
Good evening, thank you very much for the invitation, dear, dear friends, I especially greet those who come from Israel, thank you very much for being here.
Minister, thank you for joining us.
Friends, friends of the different communities or the Jewish community, and endearing companions of many stories; I see many familiar faces of endearing people.
Briefly, I bring you a greeting from President López Obrador, his congratulations for this work, Isaac, is something beyond any expectation. It is really very difficult to describe what a mural with four thousand years of history means.
It has a lot to do with the origin of Mexico, with the way we Mexicans express ourselves, and a powerful pictorial current, muralist, that determines or defines Mexico's contribution to the world.
So it's not just that it's a monumental work, it's not just that it tells an extraordinary story, which is the history of the Jewish people, four thousand years, but it also synthesizes the relationship between the people of Mexico, the Mexican-Jewish community and the people of Israel.
Why do we understand each other? Well, Mexico is a country that has more or less 68 native ethnic groups today, with 68 languages. In this country you cannot stop being, you are diverse from the moment you are born, if you don't understand it you don't understand Mexico.
We have in our country communities coming from abroad, important at least 49; the majority, are linked to political, religious, or any kind of persecution. We are a country that prides itself on its deep tradition of welcoming anyone in need of shelter.
And when it was the turn of the Jewish community, our country opened the door, and here we are. Now we are part of the same community, how can we not understand each other? But Mexico is also a people that was persecuted for a long time, we have four invasions, not counting the Spanish one.
People were persecuted for what they believed, the first actions of the inquisition in Mexico were against people who were Jewish and also who were, or spoke Nahuatl, Otomi, Zapotec, Purépecha.
Still in the 19th century, they wanted to exterminate the Yaquis who survived with extraordinary tenacity, they had more than 10,000 deaths because they did not want to give up their land, their water and their religious ideas, their ideas... their worldview.
So, how is Mexico not going to understand or how are Mexico and the Jewish people not going to understand each other? It is what synthesizes this mural, I would say historical, not only because of its dimensions but because of everything it represents.
So today it is an honor for me to be with you, to tell you: we love you, we appreciate you and we understand you.
I'm not talking about history anymore, we have the risks today. It has already been said in this rostrum what risks there are.
For us in Mexico, well, how can we forget? Already as Secretary of Foreign Relations, the tragedy of 2019 in El Paso, Texas, that a guy entered a Walmart to kill Mexicans because we were invading his country -he made a manifesto that two million people saw- and he killed grandparents who were with their children, their grandchildren, to buy school supplies.
And the first community that supported us in the United States was the Jewish community, and I remembered what my great-uncle used to tell me when I was very little about why he went to war against the Nazis having been born in Coyoacán.
By? Why did they go? There were 28 Mexican women, Mexicans of different origins from their, let's say closeness; because you couldn't stay silent and do nothing against Nazism, because you couldn't stay and stand aside or look the other way when these guys wanted to destroy many peoples, including Jews, just because of what they believed and they thought. You could not.
And when this tragedy occurred in El Paso, the first community that helped us in the United States with which we are working, was the Jewish community, how can we not understand each other? Of course, we understand each other and we are close every time we need each other.
So, thank you very much, Isaac, for this work, very moving, and speaks a lot about the past, but it speaks more about the future that we have together; and keep fighting and not turn a blind eye to brutality, totalitarianism, and any action against any people.
Let's say “no” as we have always done, is what this mural says.
Thank you so much.
Sources: THX News & Gobierno de Mexico.
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My (short) Experience with Concerts
Guten Abend everyone!
Last month, I found this interesting video on YT that was titled "Why do Concerts Suck lately?" and I watched it, curious, because in the future I would like to go see one of my favourite bands again.
So I sat through the video until she (Nicole Rafiee, just so we are clear) reached the last ten minutes or so where she transitions from artists cancelling tour dates because of their mental health- not to say they shouldn't, it would suck if it happened to me, they should look after themselves- to "Concert etiquette".
That last part made me think back on the few concerts I've been to, one when I was 9, and two when I was 17— I remember that because that year I broke my clavicle, that sucked— and I felt like sharing =)
I agree with her points, especially the first that is "You don't need to be recording everything".
While I can't exactly remember my first ever concert, just that I was with my parents, I remember my last two concerts. My sister brought me to see Lacuna Coil in a festival near her place, and then a few days later we saw the Offspring and in both I didn't took any photo, while my sister snapped a few but not many. In fact there weren't too many phones out, just people having fun listening to the music and I think I can still remember how my chest vibrated thanks to the bass and drums during Lacuna Coil's set. We were so close to the stage... I may not like staying too close to people, or people in general, but I couldn't care less that night, it was amazing.
Then she goes on with "Do not yell weird things" and I am proud to say, I never did that, just screamed my heart out along the songs and I don't think I heard people yelling improper things to the band members, luckily.
Now, while I understand "For the love of God, Dance" I. Do. Not. Dance. The guy that almost elbowed me in the face at the Offspring concert while jumping up and down, did that for me and I am happy that way. My sister didn't like that, though, almost starting a fight. (Older sisters, am I right?).
And while you can't exactly dance, during a metal concert, there's still moshing, and pogoing (?) but as I mentioned before, I had a mending bone and I couldn't risk it. Instead I had to be wary of the guys moshing close to us during LC, not necessarily envious, but still.
Does throwing your horns in the air count as dancing?
"People are gonna shimmy forward" I know, because I did =)
Politely, mind you. My sister was kind enough to drag me closer to the stage, asking people if we could pass since both of us are short. So please, don't be assholes, be considerate.
All in all I want one day go to a concert and pogoing around, though I need someone to be my emotional support human =)
Thanks for reading, if you did,
Panda out
#does this count as music?#Lacuna Coil#the offspring#cristina sounded so good even though she was a little sick#seriously she sang delirium and it was amazing
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YOU WOULD WRITE MEL AND VIKTOR? YES? YES? YES? PLEASE. PLEASE OH MY GOD.
Okay so my requests *are* closed, but christ, I checked the melvik tag and your economy is absolutely TERRIBLE, huh? There is So Little. So have this!
CWs: Brief reference to an industrial accident, emotional hurt/comfort.
____
Mel is... having a bad day.
She doesn’t particularly enjoy admitting that she gets stressed to the degree of near-fracture, sometimes, especially because it happens so rarely. She is a figurehead, she is leading the way, a conductor of the orchestra, master of the chess game that is piltover politics. She cannot bend, she cannot break. There is the echo of her mother’s voice reminding her not to display weakness, and so after she very calmly plans out an emergency response for a factory collapse with an as-of-yet unreported death toll, she very calmly excuses herself, and she very calmly checks Heimerdinger’s schedule to ensure that he’s not in, and then she very calmly locks herself in his office and hides under his desk to cry.
She had...perhaps had better ideas.
That becomes clear when the door clicks open.
Mel freezes, her knees pulled to her chest, heart pounding. She feels the most intense wave of deeply ingrained fear– followed rapidly by shame. She wasn’t home anymore, had nothing to fear besides embarrassment if she was caught, but the fear of embarrassment was potent.
She tries to make her breathing quieter, but she’s been crying too much already, and she can’t help a traitorous little sniffle.
There’s a pause– long enough that it can’t be heimerdinger at the door, he would not have hesitated, and then the door clicks closed again.
For a second, Mel thinks she’s been spared, and then there are steps.
Odd... steps.
Something about the rhythm is off, and it takes Mel a moment to register that that’s because there are three clicks against the ground instead of two, and another second to register an oh before Viktor steps in front of the desk and blindly holds a hand out.
“You’ll have to help me down.”
Mel only hesitates a second before she does, reaching up to take his hand. His palms are cool, and he doesn’t hesitate to put his weight on her as he maneuvers himself down. He doesn’t look pitying or surprised, and Mel... doesn’t feel quite the rush of shame she expected to as he carefully extends his bad leg to the side, paying no attention whatsoever to her until he gets comfortable on the ground and gets a handkerchief out of his pocket.
She winces a little, realizing black and gold makeup is coming away against the handkerchief.
“Would physical contact help?” He asks, almost startling her when he finally speaks.
“–yes.” She admits, and he shifts a little closer, reaching out to wipe her eyes.
“I’m sorry, I must look–”
“You look perfectly alright.” He assures her, tone gentle, and she bites her lip, not sure how to challenge him.
He seems to hear the objection anyway and half-smiles at her.
“I believe the effect is smoky eye? I hear it’s all the rage at the academy.”
She snorts. “Ah, so I look like i’m– going to attend a concert down in the undercity.”
“Not in the slightest.” He says, mildly. “You’re radiant. Not that you couldn’t have your pick of– unsavory characters at a zaunite mosh pit–”
She laughs, and he smiles at her, continuing– “The gold has smudged, so you simply look like you’re glowing. I think it’s–” The handkerchief is on her cheek, and he’s looking at her, and he seems to get stuck looking at her for a moment.
Mel is stuck looking at him, too. She thinks she hasn’t really, before. His moles are peppered across his face like an artist flicked a brush at a white canvas. His lips quirk. He clears his throat, and she tries to shake herself out of it.
“–ah, i’ve forgotten what I was going to say.” Viktor admits. Mel’s forgotten the start of his sentence.
“–thank you.” She says, and he raises his eyebrows.
“For forgetting my sentences? You can’t possibly loathe the sound of my voice that powerfully.”
She laughs, a little. “Certainly not, no. Just... for being here.”
“Ah, well.” He shrugs, a little. “–Jayce was upset, earlier, and then he went to go volunteer to help. I assume most people aren’t... used to this.”
“I should be.” Mel says, quietly, putting her forehead against her knees.
There’s a tiny shift, and then Viktor reaches out, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Come out.” he murmurs. “This desk may be overlarge for heimerdinger, but I'm afraid there isn’t space enough under it to spare.”
She looks up at him, a question in her expression, and he adjusts back and holds out his arms.
“There is no reason-guided response,” he says. “If you’re upset, then there is no should. You just are. And if I can comfort you, then let me.”
She doesn’t ask any more questions, just leans into his arms, presses her face into his shoulder, and lets him.
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