#always so cathartic and this time i wanna prevent that
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i have very hectic busy schedule for the next 4 weeks and i don’t wanna borrow anxiety and stress from the future but it’s like watching a car crash that’s inevitably going to happen
#also when i get into that work work work mindset i really forget to take care of myself i just exists and it’s#always so cathartic and this time i wanna prevent that#like i need to eat i need to sleep and as for like external things this will sound ridiculous but i cut my nails like so so so short and#put on nail base bc my nails take time bc i don’t let them get chipped yk so yeah next four weeks i’m bland. I’ll do my pedi on saturday and#thread and dye my brows and laser my whole body and i will feel like okay. I am ready to take on this task#i say with tears in my eyes#also putting shit in queue was also like part of that bc i wanna delete it off my phone but we shall see#anyway i’m going to take shower and finish drawing but I will make my cocoa chocolate milk drink so it’s gonna be a bearable😞😞#tt
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Fic recs <3
Apologies... this is about a month and a half late (and tumblr won't let me reply to the asks directly or add links 🙃) but here is my list of tomarry/harrymort fic recs! It's quite long so click to read >>
As a general rule: Tomarry fics in blue, Harrymort fics in red. I don't remember all these fics and some are hard to classify so.... some may be wrong
anyway, enjoy x
Authors that you should read:
ObsidianPen; No Glory, Mine/Hauntingly, Blood and Gold (for Tomione fans)
Child_OTKW; Consuming Shadows, you belong to me (i belong to you) (and check out their tumblr too)
Slexenskee; crawlersout (femHarry), yebisu, Cheap (Bad) Dance Moves, grandloves (this could be) (femHarry) and more!
MaidenMotherCrone; Diagnosis, euphoria, political animals, how large the teeth, The Fairest Saga and more!
MayMarlow; The Train to Nowhere, If Them's the Rules and more!
Lomonareen; His Darkest Devotion, His Twenty-Eighth Life, Genius by the Numbers and many more!
Paimpont; To Kill You With a Kiss, To the Waters and the Wild (as far as I remember hasn't got to the ship part yet but I love it so read it) and more!
The_Carnivorous_Muffin; When Harry Met Tom (femHarry), Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus (femHarry), October, The Unwinding Golden Thread and more!
Maeglin-Yedi; The Darkening of Your Soul, The Necromancer, To Live Is The Rarest Thing, Between Thought and Reality and more!
asterisms; Let's talk sugar, Hands up, it's a hold up, a boy so pretty (such a pity), tempor · al | ary, (i wanna) cut to the feeling and more!
NeuroWriter14; For Your Entertainment, Do Not Go Quietly into That Good Night, But I Can Break You and more!
RenderedReversed; The Game, Invisible Man, Seventeen Years and more!
TreacleTeacups; The Untouchable, Byzantium (femHarry), Last Son of Black and more!
DreamerMichiyo; Guardian Angel, The Call of A Vampire, Offer of Immortality and more!
wynnebat; The Hell Is Your Son and Other Stories series, Snake Shop, The Emperor and the Star and more!
Athy; my first real introduction to this pairing years and years ago from these fics Again and Again, Meddling of a Mischief Maker, Rebirth
More Tomarry Fics
Wear Me Like A Locket Around Your Throat by VivyPotter
Why Hari curses the Black Ancestral Home by 1000percentDoneWithThisShist (femHarry)
Hem of Your Garment by adVENTitiious, Cathartic
The Impossibility of Parallels by Angel_of_Mysteries
The Dark Lord Inside by Melodramaticx
The Magicweaver by Anonymous
Before the Storm by Ars_Matron
Field Theory by machiavelli
Blurring Reality by Terrific Lunacy
When in Rome: The Duology series by XblackcatwidowX
The Incantation of the Oak-Priest by relic_crown
It's A Masquerade, Darling by ChubbyPanda15
How to prevent a War by CrazyJanaCat
she walks in beauty series by mayfriend
The Portrait by DariaSilver
The Divine Right of Kings series by darklordtomarry (alarminghella)
What Souls Are Made Of by Emeralds_and_Lilies
Words Fail by NeaMarika
Animus, Anima: English version by Maiathoustra
I must be your favourite, right? by FlyingLizards
Trapezing Through Time by lothtor
Rewritten by goodmorninglove
To Be Set Free by Merrinpippy
love is touching souls (surely you touched mine) by ToAStranger
The Spellmaker by SonnyGietzel
A Memory of Shadow by Insidious1604
The Problem With Soulmarks Is by LadyAramisGrey
Stab Right Through by The_wig_is_a_metaphor
The Shrike (to your sharp and glorious thorn) by PaperWorlds
The Sun by clammyhands
Fire Born by wickedlfairy17 (femHarry)
More Harrymort Fics
Mi Aedijekit by local_doom_void
End Without Sorrow by Aerlinnn
Children of the Revolution by AlexisVV
The Historical Importance of Runic War Warding in the British Isles by samvelg (femHarry)
Rebuilt by Terrific Lunacy
In Somno Veritas by ansketil, ladyoflilacs
Your Name on My Heart by whitedandelions
Love in the Dark by ShoulderTallAbyss
draw me after you (let us run) by ToAStranger
The only sound is the overflow by Cartonsofcartoons
for love is always with you by cordeliawrites (femHarry)
The Wand Chooses by DreamerEye
Fault Lines by SofiaBane
The Emerald Connection by TheLastNero
Flight by Miraculous, RedHorse
Appetence by elysian_drops (femHarry)
A Snake Named Voldemort by orphan_account
Resurrect The Living by fascinationex
The Devil's Tithe by Shihane
Death is but the Next Great Adventure by TheObsidianQuill
The Consequences of A Binding Ritual by teecup_angel
harry.exe has stopped working by inksmachine
In Death, Standby by Sophisme
Hidden in Plain Sight by Shadow Riser
The Art of Hidden Personas by whitedwarf
*BONUS* Fics that I live/laugh/love with emphasis on the laugh
Harry Potter and the Greatest Show by shadowscribe
Kudosed, Bookmarked, Subscribed by maquira
Full circle by tetsurashian
Heir Apparent by MonsieurClavier
Dark Livestream by Anna_Hopkins
Ribbon Tied Right by Snowy_Rain
A Dead Man's Guide to Reliving Your Youth series by Spork_in_the_Road
The Definition of Insanity by Anacharis
Foolish behavior by Anonymous
Eternal Hilarity by Luxis
Shorter Fics (<25,000 words)
Sound The Death Knell by Tsume_Yuki (femHarry)
dead before midnight by maquira
Burnt Ice Cream by Rhodium
Don't Fuck With Florists (They'll Fuck You Up) by MayMarlow
Saved by Hufflepuff Friendship by whitedandelions
Relativity. by Ideasofmarch
Opia by Acnara
And six seconds by Acnara
Matchmaker, Matchmaker by Watermelonsmellinfellon
Aconitum by VivyPotter
But For You, I Did by duplicity
Nemo by Phnx
The Rigmarole Dance by cannibalinc
I haven't actively searched for tomarry/harrymort fics over the last year, so if you know of some newer ones then please rec them in the replies! And any others that you think need to be read ~
(authors, lmk if you want me to remove your fics of this list)
#ask tag#hp#fic recs#tomarry#harrymort#bonus points if you can identify which one of these fics is mine (bc ofc i'm going to take the opportunity to rec myself lmao)
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Lazy Friday nights in were some of your favorites. A long week of work and stress ending with a long shower, fuzzy pajamas, and your trusty Netflix account was your ideal way to spend the evening before the weekend. They were even better when your girlfriend joined you, which tended to be more often than not.
When you and Sasha had started dating, you both felt instantly comfortable with each other. You were both so caring, albeit in different ways, and adored spending time with one another. Soon her monthly lazy Fridays with you morphed into twice, sometimes three times a month.
When Sasha came over, she would wrap you in the fluffiest blanket you own and let you rest your pretty little head on her lap, running her fingers through your hair because she knew how much you loved it. And every time without fail, she would bring at least one bag crammed with your favorite snacks just to see you smile.
This time was not much different than the ones before apart from your stress-induced crying that had your favorite person rushing over in record time.
“Shhhh, it’s okay, baby,” Sasha soothes quietly, pulling you into her embrace the moment you open the door and cradling your head gently. “I’m right here.”
Somehow, her words only make you cry harder. She ‘aw’s’ sadly, leading you into your own apartment and closing the door to prevent you from getting embarrassed in front of the nosy neighbors.
“Go lay down, sweetheart, I’m gonna make you some tea,” she smiles softly, watching you glumly patter over to your couch and collapsing on to it in a heap. Hearing your sniffles, once Sasha sets the kettle down on to the stove, she’s back at your side in a flash.
“We have time before the water is done boiling. Now, would you like to talk about what happened or do you just wanna cuddle for now?” she asks. You wipe the back of your eyes with your wrist, face hot and nose stuffy from your meltdown.
“Jus’ cuddle for now,” you mumble, snuggling into the girl’s side, tucking your head and curling into a ball.
“Okay, sounds good,” her hands fall into their respective positions: one threading through your hair and the other rubbing soothing circles on your back.
Despite being tired after such a long day, as shown by the violet crescents stamped beneath her lower lashes, Sasha was ready to drop everything in order to comfort you, knowing that you shouldn’t be alone during your anxiety attacks.
“I visited my father’s earlier today. He went out hunting out in that big ol’ forest a couple hours away and ended up shootin’ the biggest turkey I’ve ever seen! Had to be at least twenty five pounds. That’s like, the size of a kid! Or maybe one of the massive bags of potatoes you get at costco.”
Listening to Sasha talk about her day was always cathartic for the both of you. She was good at telling stories, keeping them entertaining but short and sweet. And you were always her favorite listener, always attentive and curious and genuinely invested in what she had to say.
“Anyways, Papa sent me home with a solid portion of it. Light meat and dark meat, and I think a leg as well. It’ll probably be breakfast tomorrow ‘cause God knows I can’t resist my daddy’s cooking. Oh, and I found an old recipe my grandmother used for this one turkey dish - I can’t remember the damned name - but it was always so tasty. I was thinking I could bring it over tomorrow and we could cook dinner together, if you’d like. How does that sound?” She proposed excitedly. You turn your head to meet her eyes, heart melting at how beautiful she looked when she was excited for something.
The chestnut hair piled on top her head and into a messy bun was ever so slowly slipping out from the tie that held it together, strands of wispy baby hairs framing her face. Her big brown eyes twinkled with the light of a thousand stars, corners of them crinkling as the brightest smile on the planet overtook her features. The freckles that dotted under her eyes and over the bridge of her nose were dusted with a pink flush, one that you’ve come to learn was from the hours of horseback riding she’d do every time she visited her hometown.
She had told you time and time again how much it meant to her that you cared so much, but you never really understood why she thanked you so often. You loved the way her eyes lit up when she talked about things she loved or people who brought her joy.
And when she told you that she was usually ignored or called dumb when she attempted to converse with others in the past, you had to refrain from tracking down the motherfuckers who made your sweet girl feel insecure about sharing the things she enjoyed.
“That sounds amazing, baby.” You smile for the first time that evening. Sasha looks down at you fondly, brushing some of your baby hairs out of face.
You both jolt at the sound of the kettle screaming, moving over just in time for Sasha to practically leap off the couch and slide into the kitchen. And it what feels like seconds, she’s back: a warm mug filled with chamomile tea and a bit of honey is pushed into your hands, your usual blanket draping around both of your shoulders, Sasha’s bag of goodies, and a random movie playing on the screen in front of you. You couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to it, favoring digging into a homemade scone instead and taking long sips of your perfectly brewed tea.
Sasha had made herself comfortable with you laying between her hips, using her chest and stomach as a pillow as you curled up into her body. An arm dangled off the couch, absentmindedly brushing hair out of your eyes while a second hand messed with the wrapper of a chocolate bar. You knew she had finally gotten it open when you heard the familiar soft, satisfied sigh that you had grown to recognize as Sasha’s approval of good food. Her gentle chewing always made you feel warm with love, the knowledge that she consciously tried not to smack her lips in order to not make you uncomfortable proof that she was always so attentive to your needs.
A yawn escapes you and Sasha giggles before echoing it herself; both of you were past sleepy and just ready to go to sleep. You could fall asleep to the gentle lullaby of her heart beat, with a tummy full of warm tea and sweet pastries and a heart full of love… so you do.
When it grows much too late, Sasha gently wakes you to guide you to your bed, climbing in right after you and once again bringing you close to her chest. You cocoon yourselves in your soft duvet and croqueted blanket, one that’s a bit sloppy and ugly but your favorite because you made it with Sasha. You hear a quiet murmur of, “I love you” and it’s one of the last things you hear before you drift off, feeling infinitely safe and cared for in your love’s arms.
And in the morning, you both wake up to the sun indicating the day to be halfway done.
“Pancakes or waffles?” You ask, stretching your arms above your bed. Sasha grunts, an arm thrown over her eyes as she fights a losing battle against the enticing lull of sleep.
“Waffles.” she yawns, rubbing her eyes before glancing at you from the other side of the bed. Your clothes are rumpled, your hair is a mess of bed head, and your eyes are red and swollen from crying. But she feels her chest flutter, and she can’t help but remain in awe of your beauty, despite the remnants of your difficult night from the prior day.
“What?” you question, catching her stare. Sasha shakes her head, an easy smile spreading across her face.
“Nothing. Just wondering how the hell I got so lucky with you,” she ponders. A flattered, surprised laugh leaves you, and even though you both have awful morning breath, Sasha can’t help herself from leaning in and catching your lips in a kiss.
When you break away, your face is warm, but your smile is even warmer. “I love you,” you whisper. Sasha presses another kiss to your lips before leaning her forehead against your own.
“I love you too.”
this is, again, entirely self-indulgent. i just want a gf so bad it’s not even funny :(((( preferably sasha.
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𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘤 ♡
𝐭𝐰; 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦, 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐭𝐰; 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦, 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
i actually want to thank you for sending in this request! i know it’s a sensitive topic but i’ve struggled deeply with self harm in the past and being able to write these as a request was pretty cathartic. i really hope you’re doing alright, anon, and just know that you’re never alone in your struggles ♡ i also want to add that you never know what triggers someone may have, so please add a trigger warning when you send in requests like this to me or any other authors ! thank you !!
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
♡ 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳
✧ You think he doesn’t notice, that he has better things to worry about, but he notices. Lucifer sees, and is… surprised. Horrified, and rightfully so. It’s highly uncharacteristic of you. Throughout the months, you have proven your capability and you continue to time and time again, going above and beyond to resolve issues between the brothers and in the Devildom. You are a strong person, and someone he wouldn’t have expected this behaviour from.
✧ But even the strongest can fall. He knows it all too well.
✧ “If there is anything I could do, anything to improve your experiences at RAD or in the Devildom as a whole, tell me. I don’t like seeing you in pain.” Lucifer takes your hand ever so gently in his, raising it to his lips to kiss your knuckles as he gives you the softest look. “I’m here for you. Tell me, my love, what’s weighing on your mind?”
✧ You won’t find your razor blades or penknives ever again, that’s for sure, and Lucifer makes it a habit to convince you to tell him how you’ve been feeling because he worries so much that it’s almost painful. Lucifer wants you to confront your problems head on. He helps you keep track of your milestones with beautifully handwritten calendars and brings you out on special dates to celebrate your weeks spent clean.
♡ 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯
✧ Mammon is around you 24/7, so there isn’t a lot you can hide from him. Even when you try to isolate yourself or get away to give yourself an opportunity to self harm, Mammon ends up either finding you or blowing up your phone until you give in and let him find you. He panics when he finds out. He panics hard. At first, he worries about Lucifer kicking his ass for letting this happen, but he finds himself completely distracted throughout the day with his worry for you. He can’t get you off his mind.
✧ (We all know he went through your room and found your stash. You’ll never find it again after how hard he panicked.)
✧ Surprisingly, Mammon speaks to you about it of his own accord. “Hey, so…” He looks away and shoves his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable with the pressure he puts on himself. “I’m your first man, and that means ya don’t keep any secrets between us. I wanna be there for you, so you should tell me when anything’s up, or just… come to me if ya wanna talk. Or anything. It would suck to have you all sad all the time, I prefer it when ya smile…”
✧ You end up having to coach him a bit on how you want to be comforted, but he readily supplies all the affection and reassurance you need. Mammon is endearingly worried about fucking up and it makes you smile. Everything he does makes you smile, really, because he works hard at cheering you up and making sure you’re too busy with his stupid antics. But at the end of the day, he’s there to give you a squeeze and patch up your wounds to try and help.
♡ 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯
✧ PANIC.
✧ Levi is much worse than Mammon. He isn’t experienced with emotions or dealing with real people in the slightest, so when he sees a hint of your fresh wounds, bruises, or any of your gloomy thoughts, his first instinct is to panic. Without thinking, he grabs your arm and asks if you’re okay, telling you to stay still while he gets some bandages!
✧ “You can use my Ruri-chan bandaids! And, um,” Leviathan bites his lip nervously, and you watch as he plasters your skin in more cutesy band aids than you really need. “I’m sorry, I hope it doesn’t hurt too badly… But are you okay? Like, really okay on the inside?”
✧ He’s much more empathetic than he gives himself credit for. It makes him uncomfortable in the beginning, the thought of you hurting yourself and hurting so much, but he quickly mans up and makes himself someone you can easily go to for support without even noticing. He knows the feeling of being alone and not feeling like he’s enough all too well, so he does his best so you can avoid feeling the same way. Levi is always the one coming to you with brilliant new ideas for self harm substitutes, giving you colourful bands to snap against your skin, or trying to massage you to make the urges go away (until he gets too blushy to handle it, at least).
♡ 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘯
✧ Rage. It’s blinding, the torrential downpour of outrage and sheer grief. He should have been able to protect you from anything. The control over his emotions that he has spent centuries establishing unravels in that one blinding moment of finding what lay beneath your sleeves. It almost scares you. The grip he has on your shoulders is nearly crushing as he desperately leans into you, his wide evergreen eyes gazing into yours for an answer to all of this.
✧ “Who was it, ______? Who did this to you?” Satan’s voice is low, trembling with the barely contained emotion he holds inside his chest. It burns, acid in his veins as he almost refuses to believe that you had done something as terrifying as to hurt yourself.
✧ He wants to understand, he wants to know why you do these things, why you have these thoughts. Once he gets over the grief of not having been able to protect you from thoughts like this in the first place, he dedicates himself to learning how to help you manage. Satan tries everything with you, but most of all, he loves being able to hold you at night and caress your scars if you’d let him as you both talk about the universe and your emotions. Knowing how to help you allows him to help himself.
✧ He buys matching stim toys, one for you for whenever you might get the urge to self harm, and one for him. He tends to bring it around with him to fiddle with when he’s trying to get his wrath under control, so he never hesitates to lend you his when you don't have yours.
♡ 𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴
✧ Love has never been something Asmodeus bothered with too much, often seeing it as an annoying companion to the sin he indulges in the most, but when he realises how much you struggle… he’s overwhelmed with it. Asmo is overwhelmed with the need to hold you and feel your touch, to tell you that you are the most perfect being that he’s ever come across, to make you feel cared for and needed. He realises that losing you would completely tear him apart; just as the knowledge of your struggles does.
✧ “Oh, my love…” Asmodeus sighs as he finishes securing the gauze over your self-inflicted injuries. The first aid kit closes with a soft click, and he kisses your forehead before taking your hand to give it a squeeze. “You need to tell me these things, when you think you can’t handle it anymore. We… we’ll find a way, we’ll find something better to do.”
✧ These emotions aren’t something he’s used to, and he often fumbles when you open up about deep issues, but he listens well. If you let him, he does what he does best. Asmo will rub soothing lotion into your scars and distract you with your favourite things, dressing you up in his big comfortable clothes while watching your favourite shows with you. He never seems to be short on the supply of sweet words, and he’ll be showering you in so much affection to make sure you know just how much everyone adores you.
♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘻𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘣
✧ Beelzebub is the one that worries the most. Unconsciously, he treats you like porcelain, holding you delicately and making sure that none of his brothers say anything that could potentially upset you. Much like Lucifer, he glues himself to your side and follows you around with those puppy eyes of his. It’s more than likely that he’s had the same thoughts before, thoughts of permanently putting an end to the pain of loss and grief. Beel gives you solace in understanding.
✧ “You coming here was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Beel mumbles quietly as he holds you close, burying his face in your hair. “I don’t want you to leave. I love you. So please, tell me how I can make it better.”
✧ Beel needs you like you need him. At night, he can’t sleep without having you close to make sure he still has you. When he needed it the most, you held his hand so he could fall asleep, and he’s determined to do the same for you. He’s sure that with time, the both of you can make it better together.
✧ Always active, Beel likes feeling like he’s doing something tangible to help you. He’ll be the one holding ice cubes to your skin when you have your urges, or hugging you tight to prevent you from acting out if you’ll let him.
♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳
✧ Much of Belphegor’s life has been pain and ruin, and after being isolated in the attic, he just about thinks he’s out of fucks to give. Everyone’s life has some pain. It’s hard to concern himself with a mere human’s while he has his own recovery to focus on and deal with. But after noticing your tendencies, he can’t stop thinking about you. It’s less of a concern, and more of hoping that the both of you could find something in common in your pain, letting the both of you be someone for the other to hold onto.
✧ Belphie looks over you lazily as you lie beside him, and reaches for your hand. He laces your fingers together, wondering what could be going through your mind. “A penny for your thoughts? Tell me… how are you feeling today?”
✧ His love is as quiet as he is, but Belphie shows his concern by making you feel seen and needed. You don’t need to be strong around him anymore. If you want to talk, he will always listen. If you just want someone to hold, he’ll keep you wrapped in his arms. Belphie takes pride in being someone you can hold onto and trust with your deepest secrets.
✧ Additionally; he sends you depression memes
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me imagines#obey me headcanons#obey me x reader#obey me lucifer#swd lucifer#obey me mammon#swd mammon#obey me leviathan#swd leviathan#obey me satan#swd satan#obey me asmodeus#swd asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#swd beelzebub#obey me belphegor#swd belphegor#txt#mine#tw self harm#tw suicide mention
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Sarah my love!!! From the music asks list may I ask 17, 18, 19, and 20? It always seems like our music tastes overlap so I can't wait to hear the answers to these. Hope you're having the loveliest day <3
Issa, my sweetest honey. Took a while with this because I had to do some THINKING. Oh boy. I am so sorry because I can’t talk about music without going into unnecessary detail.
17. What songs remind you of very specific events or people when you listen to them?
See most songs do this for me, but there’s one that sticks out more than most.
Love Lies by Khalid and Normani. So, a fairly chill song right? Now, I fell in love with this song right when I was detoxing and withdrawals were fucking me up big time. This song, for some reason, I played on repeat while I paced around my house because I couldn’t sleep, and walking helped to settle the restless leg syndrome I was experiencing. I still adore this song because it’s funky as hell, but also reminds me what a fucking SHIT time in my life that was, which helps prevent relapse.
18. Top 5 favourite songs of all time?
This is the hardest fucking question ever? It honestly depends of the day. And my music taste has a wide spectrum so GOD this is going to be difficult. I’ll try to diversify from my different playlists.
I Don’t Trust Myself (With Loving You) - John Mayer - A classic favourite of mine. The whole Continuum album is a masterpiece, but this song is so effortlessly smooth and funky. Settles me right down.
Sudden Desire - Hayley Williams - This song means, just, SO much to me. Has fuelled so much of my writing. It’s definitely off beat and alternative, but I couldn’t love it more.
Rules - Doja Cat - OKAY but this is the song I never tell anyone I love. But it was my most played on Spotify last year HAHAHA. Because it is a fucking banger. And if you don’t feel like a boss ass bitch listening to it, I honestly can’t help you.
MANTRA - Bring Me The Horizon - Literally like nothing else on this list. This tops my emo/heavy music playlist. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve belted this on the way home from a shitty shift. SO cathartic.
Where Did The Party Go - Fall Out Boy - Yes this one song narrowly edges out the rest, but actually the whole fucking album is my pinnacle. Literally my favourite band and album of all time.
19. Put your library on shuffle and say your favourite lyric from the song that first comes up.
Okay Spotify is dumb and doesn’t let me really shuffle all of my playlists, so I’ll just use my Writing Songs playlist
Roses/Lotus/Violet/Iris - Hayley Williams (I adore ALL the lyrics to this song, one about not comparing yourself to others, but here’s a beautiful verse)
‘I have seen your body And I have seen your beauty They are separate things Pretty, pretty, pretty things But I am in a garden Tending to my own So what do I care And what do you care if I grow?’
20. What songs are your ‘go-to’ songs when recommending new music to people?
I can’t do individual songs, but rather some artists I recommend taking a dive into, and my favourites of theirs
Rufus Du Sol - Hypnotised + Brighter + Like an Animal + Eyes
Hayden James - Better Together + Just Friends + Favours + Hold Me Back
NOTD - So Close + Keep You Mine + I Wanna Know + I Miss Myself + Wanted
PVRIS - Death of Me + Old Wounds + Gimme A Minute + Dead Weight + You and I
Against The Current - weapon + that won’t save us + Voices + The Fuss
Au/Ra - Ghost + Assassin + Panic Room + Ideas + i miss u
JFC. This got long. Sorry again.
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“You have no idea how much I want you right now.” (Smutty Version)
The heat had been building all day, and the skies were so thick with moisture, it felt inevitable they’d burst.
Rhett and Link cooled their sweltering bodies in the Cape Fear, as they had since they were kids.
Link was overheating from more than the weather as he watched Rhett’s form disappear beneath the surface of the river. He envied the water as it clung to every inch of him with less than surface tension between them.
It was nearing sunset, and even the sun burying itself incrementally behind the canopy of trees did nothing for the humidity.
Rhett and Link were in college now and didn’t have curfews. But the rain intruded upon their good time like parents telling them it was time to go home - with increasing insistence as it began pelting down, rippling the surface of the water like it was boiling.
The whimsy continued to shift toward seriousness as thunder scolded them. They didn’t see lightning, but they didn’t need to wait around for it to make an appearance.
They had entered and therefore exited the water in their undershorts; grabbing their rain-soaked clothes and bolting for the shelter of the forest.
“We’ll be dry under here.” Rhett’s explanation was hardly necessary, but when had that ever stopped him? “The rain won’t be able to break through the cover of the leaves.”
Link couldn’t help himself bursting into laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“Dude! We’re drenched. Nearly nude! Holding our wet clothes, huddling under the trees for protection from what? We can’t get any wetter. It’s ridiculous!”
Rhett joined him doubling over in hysterics, and Link thought it was the best thing he’d ever heard. People told Link he was funny, but the only reason he bothered was to hear that sound…
When Link paused to catch his breath, his eyes went wide as he caught more than air between his lips.
“I’m sorry,” Rhett exhaled harshly, drawing his lips back.
“You should be. For stopping.”
Rhett kissed him again, with intention behind it beyond experimenting with if Link was gonna tell him he’d crossed a line.
He pulled Link by his rain-slicked shoulders into his arms and kissed him with the full force of his need.
Link pulled Rhett down onto the blanket of leaves; the soundtrack of the rain against the treetops the only sound that penetrated their isolated bubble of existence.
Link encouraged Rhett’s hands to be everywhere. Soon they’d peeled out of their wet underwear; nothing between them and the leaves.
Rhett’s fingers probed lower, and Link’s breath hitched with excitement that Rhett mistook for hesitation.
Rhett withdrew his hand, but Link held it there.
“Link. If this is not what you want. I would never. Never. Try to make you.”
“Wow. People think I’m clueless...” There was no mocking in Link’s voice as he stated honest facts: “You have no idea how much I want you right now. How much I’ve always wanted you. Wanted this.”
The sincerity of Link’s words melted into Rhett’s ears. And Rhett’s fingers melted into Link. Rhett tried to work his fingers smoothly inside of him, but the rainwater between them dissipated quickly with the heat of their friction.
Yet for Link, to be feeling Rhett inside of him at all was a dream come true on its own, and the endorphins going to his head left him with no inhibitions preventing him letting Rhett know he wanted more.
“I… yeah, man. I want to. But… we don’t have anything to like. Lubricate things? I just. I want it to be good for you.”
“Please, Rhett,” Link whined.
Rhett was visibly flustered. “I want that more than anything. But I wanna do it right.”
“I need you, Rhett. I need to feel you inside me.”
“I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“Maybe you’re giving yourself too much credit,” Link snarked.
“Oh, you really are asking for me to rip you in half?”
“I’d like to see you try.” Link’s eyebrows bounced over his sparkling blue eyes.
All teasing was gone as Rhett gathered as much spit and rainwater as he could, for all the good it would do, and slowly pressed the head of his cock past Link’s hole.
“Tell me if I need to stop.”
Link shook his head, gritting his teeth but refusing to close his eyes. Link knew he wouldn’t get off like this, not today. Rhett probably wouldn’t either. But that wasn’t what they needed right now. For now, the stretch of his body as it made room for Rhett felt cathartic. They always found space for each other. This was just another manifestation of that tendency.
Rhett didn’t thrust. He gently rocked his hips, generating the slightest friction, trembling to keep his body upright over Link.
Link always imagined that when this happened, it would feel like the rest of the world had fallen away, until there was nothing left but him and Rhett. But now that the moment had arrived, it felt different. This wasn’t exclusive; it was inclusive and universal. Link felt more ‘Good’, more perfect and one with all things, in ways he’d always prayed for but never found searching his soul or the walls of their childhood church where the answers were supposed to be written.
Link felt Rhett carefully withdraw, and he immediately missed that feeling of completeness. He was distracted by the emptiness as Rhett’s warm mouth wrapped around his cock and made Link’s body shudder the mess of wet leaves and stones, and erupt onto his own belly.
Link’s hazy vision focused on Rhett using the come he’d coaxed from Link’s spent cock to slick up his own and quickly jerk himself off before collapsing next to Link.
“I don’t care how far we have to go,” Rhett told him. “We’ll make an excuse and we’ll drive until nobody’s ever heard of us. We’ll get a hotel and I’m gonna fuck you thoroughly. Once we have the right… supplies, I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”
#rhink#rhink fic#rtw: smut#writer: likeaswitchinheat#prompt: you have no idea how much I want you right now#lemon
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Agent of Hope - 27
Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys. Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: Errors (trying to stay awake to switch to night shifts), pain, detailed violence, quite nasty hints, angst, fluff, sadness, basically everything horrible you can imagine. A/N: You’ll find the previous chapters through my masterlist. Lots of love for liking and reblogging!!
27 - Kick Ass and chew Bubble Gum
It’s a tension at the back of your knees. It’s muscles itching to work overtime – fight or flight. It’s a sour taste at the back of your mouth at the point where no amount of water can wash it away. Still it doesn’t matter because what you’re doing, your mission of sorts, is going to be worth everything.
It’s taken much too long to get to this point where your walking up the dusty lane towards an inconspicuous house in the outskirt of…where’s this again? Somewhere in Sierra Leone. You had known, memorized the town’s name as well as anything else. Memorized the plan. Now, however, it’s replaced by a memory of something that hasn’t even happened yet, making your skin crawl as cold shivers run down the spine. Red sand clings to the boots (much too warm for the temperature). Like blood.
“Something nice…” you mumble, grasping at a flicker spark of joy before it’s swallowed, “…something nice…”
Red like fiery hair. And suddenly, it’s possible to recognize the blue of the sky in the teasing sparkle of a pair of grey eyes capable of looking into your very soul, making you feel safe and at home. The churning lead in your guts lessens. Now you can let the shoulders sink and even look up towards the goal: a heavy door painted green behind which Rumlow waits.
… Rumlow …
Every single note and stick-figure drawing Brock has received from [Y/N] is kept in a tin as evidence. At first her replies had been brief, hesitant in the wording and quite confrontational…but that was to be expected. She has still to admit her feelings for him, but it’s obvious as the communication extends how she recognizes the true nature of the Avengers. Why spend resources on catching someone, when they are willing to come on their own.
Brock isn’t a fool. Far from. There’s always the risk of a double-cross, his own plan mirrored to out him or more of Hydra. And regardless of the reasoning for [Y/N] to come today, she will have to be processed and vetted before he will allow himself to trust her. But it will be much easier this time.
Watching the screen, the ex boyfriend sees the hesitation melt away from the figure to be replaced with resolution. Come to me, baby. All the other screens show…nothing. No, would-be heroes. No pesky Mister Rogers with a shield and the American flag so far up his ass that he can’t relax. No red-head traitor. All alone? It’s hard to believe, so Brock doesn’t, flicking a switch instead that light a tiny, orange diode in the two free-rooms, as the team have started calling the scan-blocking basement sections. On your marks.
There’s a muted sound of footsteps outside preceding the knocking on the door. Twice, a pause, and once. Good girl.
He’s smiling as he unlocks and pulls the door aside just a crack to see the nervousness on [Y/N]’s face, but it’s not enough to drown the stubborn set of the jaw or the air of…excitement? Eager to come home?
“What’s a girl like ya doin’ in a place like this…?” Such a cliché, but it rolls off Brock’s tongue with a neat drawl.
The hint of an eyeroll also hints at times passed. “Girl’s just wanna have fun. Nice decoy to free me up from ‘em.”
Them. Not Natasha or Steve or whatever. “Only the best for ya, as always.” She has said the password but hesitates to enter when Brock opens the door fully. “C’m’on in, babe.”
“How long we got?”
“They’re smart, but th’ain’t that smart…I’ll guess an hour.” There’s a tickle of something he can’t place in the woman’s smile. “The cool air’s escaping, get it.”
Like in a dream, she really does step over the threshold, carefully keeping a bit of distance between them. I should’ve expected that. It still gnaws inside Brock, tugs at the side of him that needs the bitch to understand, to accept her place. But he bites it back. All the anger and possessiveness is shoved deep down somewhere dark because he knows he’ll bring her to her senses. Soon.
Brock casts a brief glance to a screen out of the girl’s view showing a mix of live feeds from local and global news stations, a few of them covering the draught and the lack of safe drinking water while the majority heralds the wedding of some celebrity. No breaking news. It’s not typical of the Avengers to work quietly, especially not if the glorified tin can is flying around blasting rock music. Well…at least one of those idiots has style. Haven’t they taken the bait?
“All alone?” There’s an air of something studied mixing with the playful tone. “I’d half begun to think I was –“
“Shut up.” Thankfully, [Y/N] does as told, body ripe with fear to the point where he almost can smell it. “Why’re ya here? Really?”
“Really?” Perfect confusion. Innocence. “’Cause we’re not over yet, Brock.”
Something beeps from the console of screens and the hydra agent is about to turn to see what has caused the alarm to go off when [Y/N] reaches for him. Such a simple gesture, still it sparks an old habit in the man and he takes the hand in his for a long second – one he would wish could last forever. But he has to let go, hand slightly sticky from her sweaty touch. Another alarm begins, and he can hear the sound of the agents in the free-rooms banging on the doors though an oceans rush in his head. The world sways, unfocused. What the fuck? Oh, yeah, there comes the sea sickness even if he hasn’t felt it since he was a kid.
“You know,” [Y/N] softly whispers from far away into his ear, “when I said we’re not over…” She has a stronger grip than expect on his arm and shoulder, somehow forcing him on his knees. “I should’ve said I’m not done with you, Rumlow.”
The world might be reduced to a stormy sea, but he can still feel the nauseating pain as the shoulder dislocates. I’ve had…worse. That much is true. It’s not even the pain, really, making him sick to the stomach, rather the knowledge of what [Y/N] wants to get even for.
“[Y/N],” he slurs, the tongue too thick in the mouth, “I-I-I…lllo’ ya…” That lands his face pressed onto the dirty floor at an uncomfortable angle. She’s…holding my ass…
“No, Rumlow, you don’t love.” There’s a sound of metal against metal. “Let me demonstrate what you do.”
… Romanoff …
“Damn, sweetie…”
Even Nat is impressed, and slightly grossed out, at the creativity her girlfriend has shown. So much so, she almost feels sorry for Rumlow who’s passed out on the floor in a sticky pool of almost every bodily liquid of his own. Well if almost means not at all.
Sam had taken one look and then gone outside to hurl, and even Thor looks shocked. “My lady, your enemies will surely know not to stir your wrath from this day forth.”
“My track record with coping mechanisms isn’t great…so…” Tony can’t look at it either, but at least he hasn’t lost the bad humour. “Let me know if’t works, ‘kay?”
“Oh, it feels very…cathartic…” [Y/N] looks at the guy with a distanced calmed.
Too calm. Cathartic or not, this will undoubtedly have consequences both legally and emotionally for Rumlow’s former prisoner. None of it can be explained away as self defense. It can’t be by the time the person is face down, ass up, and the metal sheathed where the sun don’t shine.
“I’m gonna take her to the quinjet, you guys stabilize him and see if he can talk…ever…”
And so Natasha leaves the men behind, steering a dazed woman by the arm across the uneven terrain through a patch of dried out shrubs behind which the plane is waiting.
Once onboard, she observes the mechanic reactions as [Y/N] complies with every order without uttering a single word. Come back to me, baby. The former assassin can only hope that the words reach far enough, somehow breaking through the shell her girlfriend’s mind has build in record time to prevent any of the grotesque happenings from settling. Eventually the good advice of reason are spent, leaving nothing behind but an insufferable ache.
You were doing so well, why did I let you go? “I’m sorry, love,” Nat whispers hoarsely, fingers stroking the blank face, “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have been here. It’s my fault, please come back. You can get through this too, alright?”
On and on, the pleas dripple out similar to a hushed prayer that knows no end. The tears falling aren’t [Y/N]’s this time because for once Natasha can’t be the strong one. Kneeling before [Y/N], she wraps her arms around the living statue’s waist and buries the face in the heat of the soft breasts where she can hear the heartbeat. Slow and steady as opposed to Nat’s own that beats so frantically, she couldn’t hold her hands still if she tried.
Some things change the very foundation of a person.
In the Red Room, the girls were taught not to show mercy, to follow orders unblinkingly even if it meant the death of an other. Though the first fatalities weren’t at the students’ own hands, they knew what the consequences were once they forced another child to give up or be flunked. The changed had already started. By the time a girl graduated, became an adult though never a woman, the transformation was completed. It was expected. A flinch. A faint taste of regret in the dark of night. Nothing more.
Outside the Red Room, for people growing up in normal lives, only a low percentage of people are prepared for the Graduation, and most of those never have to complete the change themselves. For the lucky ones, violence and unnatural death will not become a habit of theirs.
[Y/N] had been one of the lucky ones until the day Hydra captured her, placing her at the mercy of Rumlow. Her change had been forced upon her, nearly killing her in the process. Perhaps Natasha, the team, even the victim herself had been fools for thinking she would be alright and the metamorphosis never would be complete. My fault. Today had been Graduation, and the ex-Russian brought the student to the test.
“Shhh,” gentle and soothing against red hair, “It’s okay, Tash, I’m here…it’ll be okay.” Gentle fingers cart through the fiery strands, nails scraping against the scalp in a calm rhythm. “I know what I did…I’ll never do it again.”
They’re both crying as they lock gazes.
“Do you know that?” Be honest. “Have you seen it?”
“This is the first time you ask me what I’ve seen.” The smile is gentle and almost reaches the [Y/E/C] eyes. “I have to continue therapy, but yeah…never again.” Soft lips kiss the salty water away from the upturned face. “I’m all yours now.”
… Reader …
Of course the clock isn’t ticking. After ages of therapy, you should be used to that…instead it makes the silence way heavier than strictly necessary. Or maybe it’s because this session is so important? Double session, actually. Pinching your brows, you manage to divert the attention from the missing tick-tock to the bit of dirt under a nail as you wait for the team consisting of a psychiatrist and a psychologist to ask the question they want to. It’s silly really. Anyone can rehearse an answer fitting with the “need”.
“So, how are you feeling, [Y/N]?” one of them final begins, glasses dangling from between to fingers and a pen in the other hand.
You take a moment, do a mini body scan. “Right now I’m nervous…” They both nod at your answer. “Generally speaking…pretty good. Still get the odd nightmare where it’s like I’m back.”
“Back?”
“M-hm.”
They want you to define the term, but it’s fun to see them try to be correct and direct at the same time. “To when Rumlow first held you against your will or…?”
“Or when I took revenge? Both.” You give them time to scribble ferociously before continuing, “I don’t think there’s some specific reason it’s one situation instead of the other…not always at least. And the technique to guide myself away from the nightmare is beginning to work a bit.”
The glasses are pulled down again, so the Psychologist can look at you directly. “Is there a difference in the intensity?”
“No. Both…events were horrible. For different reasons, sure, but horrible. What I did…” Both doctors hold their breaths as you ponder your words. “There’s an explanation for it…but no excuse. I know that.”
With all the nodding they’re doing, it seems only fair if they get a kink in the neck eventually. Sometimes the bobble-heads ask more questions, about the house arrest in the tower or your relationship with the Avengers. They never once get into specific about Natasha and you, although it’s there like some elephant in the room. Even professionals can have issues.
By the time the two hours are up, you’ve got them smiling genuinely. Perhaps, maybe, if you’re lucky…will they clear you?
…
“Who sends letters nowadays?” Tony scoffs, dumping a big, brown envelope on the newspaper you’re reading.
Justice Department! It’s damn near impossible to tear open the thick paper because your hands a shaking so much, and when you finally do, the words barely make any sense, so you don’t protest when the genius billionaire snags it out of your hands.
It feels like forever, longer than the months you’ve waited to hear what the psychiatrist’s and psychologist’s decision is, before Tony finally looks up. “Jarvis!”
“Yes, sir.”
You can’t read his face, allowing the nerves to run amok. “Call the team, Pepper, and Happy.”
“May I inquire as to the occasion?”
“Yeah.” Finally, his face splits into a huge smile. “We’re gonna celebrate.”
#Agent of hope mcu fanfiction#natasha romanoff#Natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#Natalia romanova#natalia romanova x you#natalia romanova x reader#Black Widow#Black widow x reader#Black widow x you#Former Brock Rumlow x you#Former Brock Rumlow x reader#Brock Rumlow#Crossbones#Mcu#mcu fanfiction#marvel cinematic universe#Avengers#Avenger tower#Iron Man#tony stark#pepper potts#happy hogan#sam wilson#falcon#Steve Rogers#captain america#angst#violence#revenge
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Fatal Attraction Part 3
Part 1 Part 2
Summary: When a mysterious man shows up at your job, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to him - and him to you. But behind the beautiful face is the dark lifestyle of a man who has made his wealth through becoming the most powerful drug dealer in the city. Word count: 2.7k
Song (I already forgot to do this for part 2 so you’r getting the one I meant for that part too) - ... Ready For It? // Taylor Swift & Finally//Beautiful Stranger // Halsey
Warning: mentions of death
Two weeks. Two weeks shouldn’t feel that long but it felt like an eternity. That was how long it had been since you had seen Mika, or even heard from him. You didn’t know what went wrong. When your date got interrupted, you thought you’d get an explanation a few hours later, or at least the next day. You were beginning to wonder if what you witnessed was a lot more serious than it seemed.
A small, overly anxious part of you was afraid that maybe Mika got hurt by the Dimitri guy and that’s what you hadn’t heard from him. You tried to push that thought out of your head, but with each day that went by, it seemed more possible. You didn’t think Mika would be the type to just ghost you, especially after you figured out he was really a coke dealer. You could rat him out if you were mad for all he knew. Not that you would ever do that.
You were pretty desperate for any contact at this point. A simple “im okay,” text would have at least put you at ease. But nothing. Maybe Mika wasn't the guy you thought, you didn’t know him that well, really. Or maybe something really bad happened...
You shook your head at yourself in the cracked mirror in the strip club changing room. You couldn’t let that thought get to you right now. You had a job to do, a shitty job, but a job nonetheless. Rent wasn’t going to pay itself, and you certainly weren’t going to get any tips if you looked all mopey.
So, you stepped out and did your thing. No amount of pep talk, however, could prevent the heaviness in your chest when you looked at where Mika usually sat and found and empty chair. It had be empty for awhile now, but you still weren’t able to shake that little glimmer of hope that you’d look out a find him there, just like old times.
You weren’t quite sure how long you were up there for. It all felt like a daze recently. It could have been 5 songs, maybe 10? You didn’t really know. What you did know was Rick was now excitedly motioning for you, which meant only one thing. Private room booking. The absolute last thing you wanted to do right now.
“There’s my little money maker,” Rick said with his classical sleazy smile.
“Where am I going?” you replied, biting back a gag. You had men look at you nearly naked every night, but something about how Rick looked at you made your stomach churn. He was someone who enjoyed his job way too much.
“Room 2, enjoy,” he replied. You rolled your eyes and walked away quickly; you didn't wanna give him a chance to slap your ass as you left. You seriously hoped this guy would be a big tipped, because it was going to take everything in you to give him a decent show.
When you stepped into the little room, your stomach fell to the floor. “Mika,” you gasped. You couldn’t believe your eyes at first, but it was really him sitting in front of you.
“Hi y/n,” Mika said. Anger bubbled inside you, you marched toward him and gave him a hard shove. He was sitting, so it didn’t really do much, but it was cathartic.
“Hi? You disappear for two weeks and all you can fucking give me is a hi?” you growled. You had to whisper-yell because the walls were thin, but you think he got the point.
“You have every right to be mad at me,” Mika replied calmly. It irritated you more.
“You’re fucking right I do! Do you have any idea what was going through my mind, or do you only care about me when you want a little show?” you snapped, gesturing to the tiny lingerie you wore.
That bothered him. “No y/n, not at all,” he replied sternly, “It’s complicated... but I want to explain.”
“You better,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“But not here, it’s not secure enough,” he told you.
“I don’t get off for another hour,” you replied.
“I can get you off now,” Mike replied, reaching for his wallet.
“No, I don’t need you throwing around your money anymore,” you stated, “If you really care, you’ll wait for me. If not it was nice knowing you.” With that, you spun around and left. It left you feeling sort of on a high. It felt good to tell him off, and even though you were annoyed you were glad that he was okay. Now it was just a matter of if he was going to wait.
The next hour went by quickly, to your delight. You hated that you were excited to see Mika. You should be pissed and never want to see him again. While you were still mad at him, you were eager for his explanation. You were hoping all the nagging questions that plagued your brain these last two weeks would finally be answered.
When the hour was up, you found Mika’s car waiting outside. You were happy he waited for you, but you didn’t allow yourself a smile. There was still a lot to be discussed.
“Where are we going?” you asked as you slid into the backseat. You stayed as far from him as the backseat allowed. You didn’t trust yourself around him, not even when annoyed.
“Your place, if that’s okay. We wouldn’t be expected to go there,” Mika replied.
“Expected? By who?” you questioned.
“It will make sense when I explained, just trust me,” Mika urged.
“Alright, fine,” you replied, but this better be good. You gave the driver the address and you started on your way. It was then you realized Chris was not in the front seat. “No sidekick tonight?”
“I thought this conversation would be better for just the two of us.” Mika replied, with a tone in his voice you couldn’t quite place. You suddenly felt a knot form in your stomach. It was that same sort of feeling when a parent said they needed to talk to you.
The car came to a stop before you could have a full blown panic attack about it. Mika followed you silently into your building. The elevator climbed to your floor painfully slowly. Had it always been this slow? You swore it was just trying to torture you now.
“My place is, er, small,” you said as you slipped the key in the lock. Small was an understatement. It was basically a glorified closet with a kitchen and a bathroom. It wasn't much at all, but it was yours and yours alone, which was a difficult feat in Manhattan. You were proud of it, and its many, many flaws.
“I don’t mind,” Mika replied as you shut the door behind the two of you. You led him to the couch, feeling your palms get a sweaty as you waited for him to begin.
“So?” you prompted.
“I don't even know where to begin,” Mika sighed.
“Well how about you begin with whatever happened at that bar you took me too. With that guy, um, Dimitri?” Mika tensed at his name.
“I’m still really sorry I put you in that situation,” Mika sighed.
“It’s fine Mika, just tell me what’s the matter,” you replied, gently touching his thigh for reassurance.
“Alright well like I told you, I basically oversee all the coke that comes into the city,” he began, “It’s been like that for a while now. Dimitri used to work for me, we were close, actually. I considered him a friend, but he betrayed me. He left me to run with the Russians.”
“The Russians?” you questioned.
“They’re my rival I guess you could say,” Mika answered, “They’re the seconded biggest group of coke dealers in the city, though they really don’t have anything on the flow I have coming in. Dimitri has been trying to one up me ever since he left.”
“Why’d he leave?”
Mika shrugged, “Could have been anything. He wanted more money, more power I’m guessing. He always wanted to call the shots but at the end of the day everyone answered to me, just like the answered to my father. He started this all and I inherited it from him when he-” Mika stopped mid-sentence, like the words got stuck in his throat.
“What happened to him?” you probed gently, you scooted closer to him, sensing he wasn’t about to tell you a feel good story.
“He was killed, not by Dimitri’s hand, but he was the one who put the hit out. He thought with my father gone he would easily be able to take the empire from me. Clearly he he had no idea who he was dealing with,” Mika said bitterly.
“Mika I’m so sorry,” you replied, wrapping and arm around him. He was trying to be strong, but it hurt him, you could see that.
“It’s alright. I killed the man who pulled the trigger and have been making Dimitri’s life a living hell ever since,” Mika replied. He paused, giving you a cautious look. “I’m sorry, I hope I’m not scaring you.”
“I’m not afraid of you Mika,” you replied firmly. At least that answered your question from your last date.
“You should be,” Mika replied, “You should be afraid to be anywhere near me.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Mika incredulously, “Did you not hear what I just told you?”
“I heard you but I don’t see how that should make me afraid to be with you. You kept me safe,” you reminded him.
“We got lucky,” Mika replied, “If Dimitri had seen you, if he knew that I cared about you, you’d never be safe again. He’d do anything to hurt me y/n, including killing everyone I care about if he can. Hell, he’d start going after the people you care about. Your friends, your parents.”
His last words stung, not that he could know why. “He’d too late,” you mumbled.
“What do you mean?” Mika asked.
Your anxiety spiked, just as it always did when you had to tell the story. It never got easier. “My parents were killed,” you told him, “Just a few years ago. They were walking home late at night and two guys tried to rob them. They put up a fight and they both got shot.”
“I’m sorry y/n I didn’t know,” Mika said softly.
“It’s fine, you had no way of knowing,” you replied.
“Did they catch who did it?” Mika asked.
“Yes, but only one of them got jail time. The one that gave up the other’s name got a plea bargain. He says the other one pulled the trigger, but really I have no way of knowing. For all I know, the guy who killed both my parents is still walking the streets today,” you explained, a chill going down your spine as you finished.
“What's his name?” Mika asked, his face etched with anger.
You could never forget it, “Thomas Holmes. As long as he’s around, I don’t feel safe, not really. So I’m sorry Mika, if you don't want me around you’re gonna have to think of something more creative.”
“I hate that you have to feel like that, that someone did that to you,” Mika replied, frowning.
“That’s life, I guess,” you tried to make it come out like a joke, but it wasn’t very convincing. Everything about what happened to you sucked.
“Do you have any other family?” Mika asked. You just now realized his hand was holding yours.
“No, my parents were only children and my grandparents passed when I was younger,” you told him, “I was in college when it happened. I had some friends from that and I tried to keep going, but it was too much. It kinda sucks when you walk in the room and suck the whole life out of it because no one knows what to say to the girl with two dead parents. So I dropped out and that's how I ended up stripping.”
“I’m sorry,” Mika repeated, squeezing your hand.
“We aren't so different I guess,” you said.
“No you’re nothing like me,” Mika shook his head, “Nothing good will come of being with me.”
“That’s not your decision to make, Mika,” you replied sternly, “Like I said, if you really want me gone then just say it, but I’m not backing down because you’re scared for me. I think I’ve proven by now I have a good head on my shoulders.”
“Your life’s not gonna be the same.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, “At this point I’m sorta used to life altering events.”
“There will be somethings we have to go over,” Mika said.
“Blah, blah, blah, we can go over your rules later,” you teased, but then added more seriously, “I just wanna be yours, Mika. I don’t care what I have to do.”
Mika leaned in close to you, his forehead pressing against yours. You breathed in his familiar scent, immediately making heart race. “You’re mine, y/n,” Mika murmured, “And I’m yours.” His hand found your cheek and the next thing you knew, his lips were pressed to yours.
You hated cliches, but there was no other way to describe how it felt to kiss him but fireworks. It was weird, Mika was still somewhat of a stranger to you, but you never felt so secure with someone. It was like you’ve known him your whole life.
“You’re crazy, you know that right?” Mika said breathlessly. It was the first time you saw him smile all night.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you raise a brow.
“Bad for you, good for me I guess,” he teased.
“Very good for you,” you replied, pulling him in for a kiss another kiss. You tangled your hands through his hair, sliding on to his lap. You nipped at his lower lip before slipping your tongue in his mouth. You could kiss him for hours, you thought, you never felt anything so intoxicating. And if just this was good...
“Not tonight,” Mika pulled away as you reached for his pants.
“Why not?” you pouted.
“We should take things slow, I want it to be special,” Mika told you, pushing a lock of hair out of your eyes.
“What my ripped up secondhand couch isn’t special enough for you?” you feigned offense.
Mika laughed, “I love your couch. I just wanna do this right.”
You nodded, “Alright, I can be patient. But will you stay the night?” The thought of him leaving now, even if it was just for the night made your heart hurt.
“Sure baby, I’ll stay,” he replied, his hand on the back of your neck as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Let me just call the driver and let him know hes free to go. I’ll meet you in the bedroom?”
“Sure, if you get lost, just call my name I’ll come get you,” you joked as you hopped up. Mika smiled, pulling you for another kiss before letting you go. You scurried into your room, changing into the cutest pair of pjs you had. You got into bed, laughing to yourself at the thought of Mika having to squeeze into you little twin size bed with you.
A few minutes later Mika came in. “We’re all good,” he told you.
“I’d offer you something to sleep in, but I don’t think anything I have would fit,” you said.
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Mika replied. With that he began to strip. Sure, he only went down to his boxers and the tank under his shirt, but it was more than enough to make your lower stomach churn. You’re taking it slow, you’re taking it slow, you’re taking it slow.
“Sorry the bed’s so small,” you said you lifted the covers for him to get in. It was a tight fit and you were practically on top of him, not that you minded.
“It’s alright it’s... cozy,” he smiled, gently running his fingers along your face. He was quiet for a few minutes before adding, “Would it weird you out if I said I thought about being like this with you a lot?”
You shook your head, “Not at all.” The thought gave you butterflies.
Mika smiled, giving you one last kiss, “Goodnight, y/n.”
“Goodnight, Mika,” you replied, settling into his chest. You didn't know how to explain it, but in that moment you knew without a shadow of a doubt that you and Mika were destined to be with each other.
#fatal attraction#m zibanejad#mika zibanejad imagine#mika zibanejad smut#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagines#new york rangers imagine
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Gwen's guide to a more positive outlook
Let me start by saying that if you think "must be nice to be neurotypical Karen" - you need this post!! I have bipolar disorder and anxiety and it took me a long time to get here. But you can do it! Even with a mental illness screaming in your head that everything sucks.
These steps are in an “easy to implement” to “hard to implement” order. That doesn’t mean that you can’t change the order or take on multiple steps at once. However, long-term change doesn’t happen overnight: it helps to take on challenges in phases or steps. Then once one thing is a habit, you move on to the next thing. If you take on too many steps at once, you might get overwhelmed and give up.
Step one: Commit to the goal! You have to want it or it won't work.
Step two: Take any medicines/attend therapy. You can't do everything single-handedly.
Step three: Stop all self-deprecation! It's hard to be positive when you think you're worthless. (Here’s a post I made about how to do this: https://rising-phoenix-21.tumblr.com/post/170320454891/gwens-guide-to-loving-yourself)
Step four: Challenge negative thoughts! Reply to things like "what if I die" with "that’s not going to happen". Something that helps me a lot is to say what is the worst thing that could happen, then what is the best thing that could happen, and finally what is most likely to happen.
Example: I have to go to an unfamiliar place and am very nervous about it. My anxiety is telling me everything that could go wrong and making it hard for me to actually go.
What is the worst that could happen? I do the wrong thing and everybody dies.
Okay, what is the best thing that could happen? I magically know everything to do and they think I'm the best person ever.
What is most likely to happen? Someone will be there to show me the ropes/tell me the rules and I can ask them any questions I have. I may make a mistake but they will be understanding because they know I'm new.
Other examples:
*remembers embarrassing thing and cringes forever* “I am the only person who remembers this, no one else does and therefore there is nothing to be embarrassed about”. Alternatively, "they are not going to remember that in (insert my opinion of how long it will take for them to forget) 30 seconds. *counts down from 30* see, they've already forgotten all about it and I can forget about it too" or "yes I made this mistake but I learned from it and it is in the past so I don't need to worry about it anymore".
*makes a mistake, worries everyone hates me for it* “It's okay, they know I'm new. This is a learning environment, everyone makes mistakes and they are expecting this”. Alternatively: “they never told me to do X and therefore there is no way I could have known and this is not my fault”.
Step five: Accept when something bad happens. You are going to feel bad about it and that is okay. Let yourself feel the negative emotion until it has run its course. Having a positive outlook does not mean you're happy 24/7 and never cry. However, recognize that this feeling is not going to last forever, you will feel better, and things will get better. Saying it out loud may help.
It’s easy to start wallowing in a negative emotion and/or relapse when something bad happens. This is where your support network comes in! They will help keep you accountable and on the right path. When you are in a bad place, it also helps to look back at good memories and mementos.
Step six: Start writing down 1 (or more) good thing/s that happened or something you're thankful for everyday. Aim for everyday but if you end up only doing this once a week that's okay too. This one seems small but is seriously so important!! When you force yourself to think about something good that happened on a bad day it makes it Way easier to see the good on a regular basis.
Step seven is similar: Enjoy life! Take pleasure in the little things! Yes, sometimes things suck but it's hard to remember that when you're singing along to your favorite song with the windows down and a soda in your hand. Or cuddling with your dog or swimming or doodling your favorite character. When you're having a good day/good moment, take a second and just breathe. Think about how amazing you feel in this moment and how awesome life is.
Then when something tries to tell you that it's all bad, you can look back on that moment, on how amazing you felt and know that IT IS A LIE.
Keep mementos of the good days and the fun you have like photos/ticket stubs/birthday cards, etc.These also help with the bad days.
Step eight: Give yourself things to look forward to. Something that really helps me is picturing physical things about my future. Like I’ll picture what my classroom is going to look like or imagine what kind of Mom I’m going to be or what my wedding is going to look like. Sometimes the future is a big scary void and filling that void with something as small as “I’m going to have a dog” makes the future something to look forward to instead of fear. Doing this on a smaller scale is also helpful, “next weekend I’m going to see a movie”. You may not know where you’re going to be in the next year, but you know you’re going to see that movie and you can look forward to it.
Step nine: Remove negative media from your life! Is that song about your life before your recovery? Pitch it! You're not in that place anymore. If you're recovering from self-harm, all songs talking about harming yourself have to go! If you're a recovering alcoholic, all songs about heavy drinking have got to go! Those songs just put you back into that mindset, they mimic the bad place you were in and you don't want to be there anymore!!
If you are not in recovery, get rid of songs that have a negative message- "life sucks", "there's no hope", "things are never getting better". Is there a song that makes you think of your ex and it makes you sad? Say goodbye to it!
That isn't to say you can't ever listen to "sad" songs or songs that make you cry. The key is to not listen to those on a Regular Basis. Because then you're just making yourself sad on a regular basis, and what good is that?
Unfollow triggering blogs! Utilize Tumblr's filtering system! Renovate your dash so it's full of positivity/cute animals/recovery and inspiration/good news and not just the bad! This applies to all social media, not just Tumblr. (Facebook’s unfollow button is your new best friend).
The same goes for TV/movies/books: if it is going to trigger you/make you feel bad/mimic a bad place you were in: get rid of it! Don't watch it!
This doesn’t mean you have to watch “family-friendly PG nothing bad ever happens” bullshit all the time. But you need to be in a good mental place for it. If you know you can handle it, watch it! But if it's going to just make you cry in a non-cathartic way, don't torture yourself.
And sometimes you consume media because you want catharsis you were robbed of in the moment and that is okay. As human beings, we tend to bury our emotions especially in traumatic situations. So re-visiting that place/that emotion in a safe way can be very good for recovery. The key is to not consume media that you know will upset you/ruin your day. And to not consume negative media 24/7.
Sometimes, this means that you don't watch the news, and that's okay! We were not made to or meant to consume negative events on such a large scale. You can only take in and deal with so much negative information! If you need to turn off the news, do it. If you need to take a break from social media, do it. Do what is best for your mental health.
Step ten: Surround yourself with positivity! Refill your music collection with upbeat songs that make you wanna dance, that make you excited, that make you happy, etc. Try to listen to them often and early in your day. Put up inspirational quotes! Follow inspiration blogs! Consume lighter media that makes you laugh/makes you feel good.
Step eleven: Recognize when you need to step away from a situation. If something bad comes up but you know mentally/emotionally you can't deal with it right then. Say "I can't deal with this right now, I will do it later" and walk away. Obviously, this isn't possible all the time. But that's why you should do it whenever you can! Giving yourself time to prepare and time to process is super important! It helps your mental health and prevents you from making mistakes. Both of which make it easier to have a positive outlook lol.
Step twelve: Reduce the conflict in your life. Conflict isn’t good for our mental health and it makes you feel bad. It also reinforces the idea that it’s “you against the world”, that there are no good people in the world, that no one understands you, etc. If you find yourself arguing with someone everyday, cut them out of your life-that is a toxic relationship. If you find yourself disagreeing with/getting angry at a blog, unfollow it. Anger is important and not necessarily a “bad” emotion but it also isn’t good to feel that way Every Single Day, it gets in the way of positive emotions.
Step thirteen: Surround yourself with positive people/build a support network. Make friends who are “full of light”, who are optimistic, and who make you feel good when they’re around. Building a support network is super important for when bad things happen: they are there to remind you of the good and to keep you on track in your recovery and in your new positive outlook.
Step fourteen: Remove negative people from your life. When I say "negative people" I mean someone toxic, someone who brings your mood down (on a regular basis), someone who can never see things in a positive way/everything is doom and gloom, and someone whose behavior triggers you(!!). This is a really tough one because, quite frankly, you don’t always get to choose who you interact with and breaking ties is hard.
If you HAVE to interact with this person: try to limit your time with them, keep your mind on positive things even if they're talking about negative stuff (you may even try to steer them in a positive direction), and cleanse your aura after they leave AKA if you feel "gross" after interacting with them, do whatever will get rid of that feeling, whether it be prayer or a crystal or a shower.
How to break ties with someone? What I usually do is ghost them, whether that is the best/healthiest method is up for debate. If they call you out or you don't want to ghost, just tell them "you're a very negative person and I just can’t be around that. I'm sorry but I have to do what's best for my mental health". If they can't/won't understand that, block them. That's their problem, not yours. I know this sounds selfish and rude but it's true: you have to do what's best for your mental health. You have to be “selfish” sometimes.
Step fifteen: Keep making goals to improve your life! Having a positive outlook is just one of many things that will make your life better. Improving your physical health will make you feel good, reading more books will make you feel good, reaching your goals makes you feel good! The better you feel, the easier it is to feel good about life.
Step sixteen: Repeat the above! You are forming a new habit here and re-training your brain. It isn't enough to just do this for one day or one week. You have to commit to having more positivity in your life. And when you're surrounded by bad news, it's easy to fall back on a hopeless outlook. When your brain is telling you that it's hopeless, it's easy to believe it. But one day, you will get to a place where it isn't as hard. One day, something bad will happen and it won't sting as much because you know that the pain won't last forever and that it’ll get better. This can and will become your new normal.
#life advice#recovery advice#self-harm mention#alcoholism mention#soda mention#death mention#recovery#positivity#positive thinking#advice#how to#how to guide
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The Vicious Cycle Of Simkjrs
One of my favourite parts about Simkjrs’ MHA fics is probably how every iteration of Izuku will always follow a pattern,whether it’s the vigilante AU, runaway AU, villain AU, or villain AU but with funnies. I like to call this pattern the “vicious cycle of Simkjrs”, or in layman’s terms, “trauma be like that sometimes”.
(Contains a low simmer of spoilers for Simkjrs’ fics, obviously.)
It goes a little like this:
1. Izuku accepts unacceptable circumstances. This is a thing everyone does because of how human brains work — we are pattern-seeking creatures. If someone parks a tank in your idyllic small town, you’re going to react first, but after a while, you’ll get used to it being there, and may even welcome a second one. It’s a normal glitch in our perceptive abilities, and thus a great jumping-off point for internal tension.
This is OPM!Izuku allowing himself to be emotionally abused by Bakugou, MSA!Izuku accepting that no one is to be trusted and he has to live in squalor to survive, afo!izuku thinking he has to undercut AfO’s entire organization, etc etc etc.
2. Izuku’s mental state decays. Even if izuku perceives his current circumstances to be normal, they’re more often than not extremely harmful and unsustainable -- that is to day, ‘unacceptable circumstances’. This is where a lot of the meat in Simkjrs’ prose comes from; the internal tension where Izuku has normalized his own suffering, but experiences steadily escalating levels of distress anyway, and doesn’t know how to deal with it.
This is OPM!Izuku’s distant attitude, MSA!izuku’s frustrated and angry episodes when pressured, AfO!izuku’s lack of direction after he’s Done The Deed.
3. Izuku breaks. His circumstances were unsustainable, and his ability to deal has been exhausted. He snaps back to Unacceptability, but with added stress on top. Izuku experiences a sudden surge of distress, and often lashes out.
This is OPM!Izuku being forced to confront the need to cut out a massive portion of his life (Bakugou), MSA!Izuku cutting himself off first after the temple event in his childhood and again after Kamino Ward, and AfO!izuku continuing to destroy everything by himself.ffffff
4. Izuku recovers. A light in the dark. No matter how drastic the Break, it gives him the clarity to actually act on his anxieties and find happiness and recovery. It’s what makes Simkjrs’ fics so cathartic to read; Izuku is constantly entering these periods of severe development, with releases as dramatic as the tension preceding it.
This is OPM!Izuku meeting Shinsou and trying to repair his friendship with Mitoki and AfO!Izuku allowing himself to trust other people with his objectives.
But wait! Where’s MSA!Izuku in that example?
Oh.
Uh-oh.
Know What I’ve Made By The Manic Episode On My Hands
MSA!Izuku seems to follow the same structure of internal conflict the other fics do, but instead of finding new footing every time he hits a break, MSA!Izuku will ride out the break as far as it will go, and his trust issues prevent him from diversifying his outlook. His circumstances thus get worse and worse with every single one of these cycles he experiences. Every time he approaches the “Recovery” section, he aborts it, causing twice as much suffering.
Thus when he severely undercut himself after getting caught, that bad decision was intensified by his reluctance to undergo the “recovery” stage, and true to narrative consistency, he suffers twice as much; he has his bodily autonomy violated, harshly, both body-wise and soul-wise.
Normally, this would be a very strong, robustly written tragic character, with airtight internal logic, but here’s the catch:
Eri.
Izuku, against everything he beat into himself after having his ability to hit the “Recovery” stage ripped away from him again and again, begins to reach out. At first it wasn’t much, just trusting Kirishima to respect his obsessive need for privacy, but when he meets Eri, he lets himself make a huge risk with her spirit.
And it’s euphoric.
After the constant reminders of how often Izuku has been deprived of his Recovery stage, how often his choice to distrust has been reaffirmed, how we see how this exact situation could go wrong, and if you’re a fan, the complete cycle Izuku has been deprived of that you know really clenches a Recovery Fic, he gives himself away and gets rewarded for it.
He shows kindness and openness and experiences this rush of working together with a spirit, and the sheer height of the reward compared to the amount of suffering he had experienced was a rush, it was sheer release, so dense with catharsis that you kinda wanna scream “FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” at every little good thing that happens.
I think the way these patterns are set up and executed indicates an instinctive understanding of how internal conflict in storytelling and tragic characters work, and being able to watch this coherent, well-framed tragedy unfold and have that happy ending to shift the crushing direction of the story is why Know What I’ve Made By The Marks On My Hands is my favourite MHA fanfiction.
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World Mental Health Day
Twitter tells me it’s World Mental Health Day™, so I thought I’d write about my own experiences with mental health- because honestly, it’s been a real journey, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned from it: talking always helps.
I feel like every year I look back and say to myself ‘this has been the best year of my life, but the worst year for my mental health.’ I feel like this year, though, I’ve managed to wrangle and cope with it and employ strategies which have seriously helped me prevent things from getting far, far worse.
I think it’s important to note that I’ve never been diagnosed with anything- I’d use the term ‘Depression’ loosely as an umbrella term for whatever’s goin’ on up here. I get real sad, I feel illogical guilt and intrusive thoughts, my mood can swing from anger to self-loathing in a heartbeat… it’s inescapable.
This has been a strenuous year- School has been harder than ever, I’m haphazardly slapping my way around trying to be a functional adult, and my long term relationship broke down. And yeah, I’ve had breakdowns. So far I’m up to 4. Yeah. I’ve kept count.
But, at the same time I’ve also become more open about my mentality- I’ve spent too long just trying to ‘wait out’ the sad feelings or hiding away in my room or justifying keeping it all to myself. “It’s fine, it’ll pass.” “It’s fine, you’re just overreacting.” “It’s your fault, you have to own this.” And that??? Is no good. Bad. 0/10.
I’ve started opening up to my mother, some of my best friends, I’ve even sought counselling through school and started writing my thoughts down in a journal that I carry with me everywhere. I’ve started talking and it feels so, so good. I never felt like that was even an option before. Putting things into words has an interesting effect- when it’s all in your head it’s just sensations and synapses, but when you vocalize those feelings? The pieces start coming together. It starts making more sense. Sure, there are some scary thoughts that make you feel like a monster, but it’s important that you recognize those. Look at them and change.
The journal is probably my favorite tool I have. The act of physically writing something out is so cathartic and, like talking, lets me make sense of my feelings. Works through them. Lets me catalog my feelings so I can talk about them later, long after I forget and drift back into blissful ignorance.
#Same is also another great tool that I have to help myself and help others. The comics come from a very personal place- choosing not to focus on negativity. Allowing yourself to be happy. I mean, there’s also this one which I have no idea what it relates to but it’s funny I guess?? It offers me a creative catharsis in a way that let’s others say “I’m not alone.” Which is why I make the comic- so people can see themselves in the characters and situation, but in a way where they can see good in the characters. It’s so easy to make comics that read like “everything sucks, I wanna die, bluuuughghgh tumblr emo blerh,” and those just aren’t healthy for anyone.
Mental illness fucking sucks, my dude. But a willingness to accept that you have flaws is the first step to being better. Talk to people. Confide in a friend or an expert, and thank them. Allow yourself to enjoy things without guilt or remorse or find affection and love from those around you. And it’s hard- trust me, it’s so fucking hard. But take those first steps. Know that it’s not the end of the journey. Know that it gets better- it’s gonna be a long battle, and you are going to lose a lot of fights with it. But there’s always more. Stand up. Be proud. You are a champion and you are so, so much stronger than you think.
You are not what your head makes you think you are
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Rewatching A&E’s BATES MOTEL
1x01 (First You Dream, Then You Die)
Wow. Okay, so I am 48 seconds into the episode, and I already have thoughts. Oops. Something tells me it’ll take me awhile to get through every episode if I actually seriously take the time to write everything down...
Anywho -- obviously, the audience is meant to note the dialogue going on in the background as we pan into Norman’s face. A conversation’s being had on an old movie about a guy who’s gonna move in and live with his mother.
I also find it interesting how many photos are crammed onto the walls, even in such narrow hallways; it must be part of how Norma likes to illustrate this beautiful (but non-existent) life story of hers, a way to play the part of that girl who grew up with a kind, smiling father and a mother who always smelled like cookies. I wonder if playing this part is a way that she copes, too. We know she’s obviously willfully blind to things that cause her pain, or at least refocuses and forces that pain onto somebody else sort’ve deal (say... her eldest baby boy.)
Also -- baseball is on in the background, so we can gather that Sam Bates was a fan of baseball.
And here for the first time they use an empty/unattended kitchen to show Norma’s blatant absence (to be used later in the series when Dylan goes to find her in 4x07, There’s No Place Like Home). (I’ll also pointlessly note the writers seem to use spaghetti as a staple meal for the family, since in only 50 episodes with minimal normal domestic scenes, Dylan was also shown cooking spaghetti in 5x05, Dreams Die First).
And... only 55 seconds in, I’ve paused it again. Dang! Check out Sam Bates’ workshop. The dude must have been handy -- y’know, before he became a total drunk and completely useless. There’s a motorbike in there, too. Looks like it might be stripped? (It’s definitely not the bike we see Dylan driving later, though; totally different build.)
... Heh. I’m five minutes in, now -- just smirking a bit at Norman thinking his room was up in what eventually becomes Dylan’s room. It’s strange, though. There’s a door there left ajar; but I’m fairly certain we don’t ever see that door again later? Either that house was built really weirdly, too, or the folks who designed the sets just weren’t thinking totally straight, becauuuuse...
I can’t for the life of me get the freakin’ layout of this house, man. I know the back end comes out a little more, so it’s more shaped like
than I think it is but still... Oy...
Anyways. I love Norma and Norman so much and just want the world for them. My heart aches knowing their chance to start over was thwarted and ended in tragedy. :( I just want to protect them skjdhgs.
Forever amused that Norman Bates was listening to classical music on his iPod. Also amused at how Bradley and her friends sort’ve ambush Norman, haha. You can tell it’s a small town with not a lot of turn around -- they were really curious about him, but I also think it was very kind of them to immediately initiate communication instead of sort’ve shunning him and not welcoming him at all, y’know? Even though we all know how this ends, still. I think it was nice of them to reach out, at least at first, and even if it was ultimately for their own curiousity’s sake. Idk.
Also, straight off the bat in the small glimpse that we saw, I like Miss Watson -- and it’s only because I’m rewatching and know how her relationship with Norman develops that I find her line “You look like a runner” kind’ve a tip off, I’m sure. But I liked how she worded the students’ homework, the tiny glimpse we saw of her teaching style, and I like how she speaks to Norman non accusingly when she laments his grades and seems so genuinely invested in helping him.
(I also wanna note that even though Norman said they moved a lot, I always pictured they moved around a lot in terms of homes, but always remained in the Scottsdale or more specifically Southern Scottsdale area. It’s a large city after all. No other home besides Norma’s childhood in Ohio and then Arizona was ever mentioned, so that’s just what I’m inferring.)
Ahh.... this scene where Norman comes home to Norma always makes me cringe so bad. I love Norma, I truly do, but for me, this was one of her worse scenes in terms of me not really liking her so much. But I really appreciate how the writers handled it because it really sums up her parenting style (especially in regards to Norman) super swiftly and very clearly. Random sidenote? I never understood people burning candles at dinner. After dinner, sure, but I’d be scared to knock it over while we’re eating and reaching across the table for things. Like... idk, candles are more a thing you put on a coffee table, mantle or side table rather than a dinner table, imo.
Keith Summers... I liked you for a fraction of one second, when you walked up those steps and asked Norman how he liked living there so far. Maybe I’m naive, but for that fraction of a second, I remember thinking you were only there to welcome them. Ugh... Part of me wonders if Keith would have reacted as strongly as he did if Norma hadn’t spoken to him that way (threatening to shoot him), but either way, he did, and we know what he did to god knows how many other girls, too. He deserved a slower death than what he got.
The scene where Norma answers the door and tells Bradley Norman can’t go out reminds me a bit of the dinner scene, but less cringe-worthy; Norma could have known Bradley didn’t intend on bringing her son to the library and wanted to protect him from that, which is more understandable to me than preventing him from joining the track team at school, especially after Keith’s threats about not knowing anything about the town, etc. She doesn’t know what the local kids are like, y’know? And Norman is different, not exactly a partying teen. However, if she didn’t see through Bradley’s fib, well... that’s a little different, and again, referring more back to Norma-esque clingyness rather than a mom just being protective. And if she genuinely believed her excuse (unpacking, stuff to do, blah de blah,) that’s manipulative, too, because they were just sitting there, and you know the writers must’ve included that brief scene for that very reason (to illustrate that Norma was definitely exaggerating.)
I really like the way they showed Norma hesitating and turning around with narrowed eyes during their confrontation after Bradley and her friends left; now that we know Norma does have a reason to be as protective as she is, this was really good foreshadowing. She was scrambling to keep a lid on Norman’s temper, but her own flared up too. The bit that Norman said was another good bit of insight into Norma’s parenting, too. It makes me sad because Dylan would have grown up jealous over that, was jealous over it, even though he knew it wasn’t right (because at least it was something.) I think Dylan realizes just how badly Norma’s smothering affected Norman for the first time when he comes home in the next episode; because it has been three years since they’ve lived together and possibly seen and spoken to one another (at least from what I’m inferring.) He sees Norman and he thinks, “This is no normal teenage dude,” and gets angry with Norma and uses that to put up a front for that jealousy that’s eaten away at him since forever.
Anyway. Back to the current show. lmao I love Norma’s parting words ( “Well maybe you better just stay there the rest of the night, then!” ) It was so realistic, bahah. And Norman throwing his stuffed dog hahah (also LOL stuffed dog, I see wat u did there, writers and / or props department).
I’ll never get over how “grown up” that party was that Bradley and her buddies took Norman to. But at the same time, I feel like I’m lacking in real world experience -- I literally never went to a party when I was in high school, let alone one full of teenagers with rich parents. I loved how they specifically showed the weed, too. Just little things like that, tiny little hints and foreshadowing -- it just shows that the writers actually wrote at least one season all in one go, not just episode by episode. I wonder whose house that was at, too? It’s a weird setting, can’t really tell if it’s a public building or a home.
And I am literally just realizing for the first time ever that Bradley was drunk in the scene with her and Norman (and then Richard)....... oops. I kinda hope that Bradley must’ve done or said something to make Richard so jealous and rude to Norman right off the bat, though. Or maybe he’s just so into Bradley and insecure he’s just douchey like that? I dunno. I mean, at least later in the season he has more of a reason, but their first meeting there, he’s kind’ve a dick for no apparent reason... unless maybe he saw Bradley walking up close to Norman from afar or something, idk.
... Uuuugh. This next scene. I’m cringing in advance. It’s really hard to watch. Part of me had to smirk a bit at how Norma was just finishing up cleaning up for the night before everything ends up covered in blood spatter though, even though my gut’s twisting at how all that blood ends up there at all. Ohhh, sidenote: I mean, we know Norma loves making things beautiful and we often see her clean, but maybe cleaning is cathartic for her? Like maybe the reason she likes cleaning so much is part of her delusion thing (like with all the family photos I mentioned before) or maybe it’s more just cathartic in the sense that it gives her some semblance of control? Random thing that just occurred to me. I’d always kind’ve assumed she liked cleaning just because, but maybe it’s a little deeper, I dunno.
I also love the little realistic shot of Norma smiling to herself, waving off her worries. I think we’ve all done that, haha. (Can you tell I just love all the realistic little tid bits of this show? It all feels so real. Much wow, such quality. :’D) And I love that the music tells you just as much as Norma’s suddenly stiffening posture that something in her gut just twisted at that next noise. I’ve felt that “flight” instinct before, and it’s like something wrenches and rips on your insides and all of a sudden you feel like everything is on some strangely extreme level, like your body goes into hyper drive while holding a breath all at once. It’s horrible and makes your heart stop (or beat so fast you can’t feel it anymore.) I really sympathize with her right there, and I can appreciate that she doesn’t step right up to the glass, because when you feel that train wreck in slow motion feeling, you would be much too scared to face the source of your fear that closely.
Uuugh... god... can anybody watch this scene without grimacing and hugging themselves....? I don’t have anything more to say.... I was watching this scene in a tank top and actually had to put a sweater on because it just makes me feel so uncomfortable...
It’s too bad Norma or Norman didn’t think to handcuff Keith with his hands behind his back -- but maybe the murder would seem less gruesome this way?? Tho lbr it was pretty gruesome anyways. The sound effects... bah.
Norma’s reaction to everything makes so much more sense and seems less crazy somehow, knowing her back story, understanding where she’s coming from. I mean, it still sucks that she chose to hide the body instead of call it in, yadda yadda, but -- she stabbed him so many times, and then part of it must have been fear, too... she didn’t want people to know she’d been raped, to have that reminder.
-- How did Jiao get her notebook under the carpet? And why did she leave it there?
Alex is such a dick this episode lmao. Ultimate stoic sheriff. haha. Maybe he just senses she’s lying or something idk. Which... I guess he probably does, since he asks to look inside. I’ll never understand why neither he nor Shelby smells the body / blood in the bathroom. I mean, unless Romero was rocking a seriously bad UTI and couldn’t smell it over his own piss... >.> Or maybe the pipes or plumbing already smelled coppery? Or the place is so musty that it muffled out the smell? Idk, idk. To me, this was one of the show’s biggest plot holes right here. Blood reeks.
Ahhh, dat school cafeteria tho. I kind’ve wonder if Norman hallucinated the spot of blood on his shoe. It was very bright -- dried blood isn’t that red. Maybe this was his first on screen hallucination... And hooray for the introduction of Emma! Man, I can’t get over how much she grew up during the course of this show. She seems so young here.
Okay, honestly, this got rushed about halfway through the episode because my mom came home and I felt awkward pausing it every two minutes like I was to jot something down, and I don’t even feel like writing stuff about the rest of the episode anymore, lmao. But, hey -- this is casual, at my leisure... I doubt anybody else will read this anyways, so I’m basically talking to myself over here.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
On the off chance that anybody else does end up reading this, please let me know so I can be less lazy about this in the future if something similar happens.
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Travis Scott: Hip-Hop's King of Chaos
We follow hip-hop sensation Travis Scott on tour, as he masterminds wild shows, works on new music in his bus and FaceTimes girlfriend Kylie Jenner.Ahmed Klink/ © Sunday Afternoon
Travis Scott bursts into his dressing room on a scooter, trailing assorted entourage and radiating the rich aroma of good weed. He makes for a catering table lined with Fruit Roll-Ups, Honey Buns, Lucky Charms and – for good measure – two bottles of Don Julio 1942 tequila. He's at the Oracle Arena in Oakland, about to face a sold-out crowd. "Let's get this bitch turnt!" he yells at no one in particular, letting the scooter fall to the carpet. Scott's manager, David Stromberg, brings Scott's attention to a dry-erase board, tucked behind a curtain, where a basketball play has been diagrammed in marker. Oracle is home to the Golden State Warriors, and Stromberg says that the Cleveland Cavaliers used this space as their locker room during the finals in June. The diagram, titled "BRON ISO," contains LeBron James–centric directives such as "KYRIE PASS IT" and "JR GET THE FUCK OUT THE WAY." "This is, like, the last thing Tyronn Lue wrote," Stromberg says, referring to the Cavs' coach. Scott, taking it in, laughs hard. " 'Get the fuck out the way!' " he cries.
Related
Watch Travis Scott's New Short Film Featuring Kanye West, Puff Daddy
Seth Rogen, Migos' Quavo, producer Mike Dean and more make cameos in 'La Flame'
He's winding down a 20-show tour opening for Kendrick Lamar. Originally from Houston, Scott rolled into the Bay Area early this morning, following a show in Vancouver. He spent all of today holed up on his bus, he tells me, working on new tracks that might wind up on his next album: "Just chillin', recording. Formulating a story, the picture I'm trying to paint. It's fun making music on the road – I got a whole studio bus." He plops down on a couch, gets lost in his phone. "The energy's been a little strange show-to-show on this tour," Stromberg says. "I mean, Travis brings the energy, but there's been seating at every show. He wants to get his fans onstage and get them to stage-dive – but there's chairs." He theorizes that "it's a numbers thing – I think you can sell more tickets when you do seats than when you do general admission." Scott says, "I can't speak to that," but confirms that he prefers the unmanaged vibe of a big, chair-free pit, where crowds can more readily cut loose: "Pffft," he says. "I'm never doing a tour with seats again." "Travis' fans are a little younger," Stromberg continues. "Kendrick's are a little older, and they're here for" – he throws up air quotes – " 'real hip-hop.' "
Stromberg is drawing a distinction between Lamar's dense, classicist virtuosity and what Scott does best, which is different: deliver simple, beguiling phrases about partying and drugs in an Auto-Tuned singsong over hard-edged, low-lit beats. It's a style you hear everywhere in hip-hop these days, from Migos to Future. It's also a style that Scott – whose debut mixtape, Owl Pharaoh, came out in 2013, the same year he worked behind the scenes with Kanye West on Yeezus – helped pioneer.
Scott has been on a roll ever since. He's dating Kylie Jenner. (And, it turns out, having a kid with her, according to TMZ reports published after our interview.) He has co-written or co-produced songs not only with West but also Rihanna (whom he's also rumored to have dated) and Madonna. His albums Rodeo and Birds in the Trap Sing Mc-Knight mix pop impulses – honeyed, hypnotic hooks – with irregular structures and droning flows that verge on avant-garde. Both are platinum, and they've both produced platinum singles, like the narcotic "Antidote" and the Lamar-assisted "Goosebumps."
Scott has also become known for a live show so raucous that – if you believe law enforcement, anyway – it's literally criminal. He was arrested this past May, after a show in Rogers, Arkansas, on charges of inciting a riot for encouraging fans to rush the stage. Police say that several people were injured, among them a security guard and a cop. (Scott, who pleaded not guilty, faced similar charges in 2015 following a concert in Chicago.) Shortly before the Arkansas show, Scott encouraged a fan at a New York concert to jump down from a second-floor balcony, before ordering audience members to form a human net to catch him. A different fan fell from the third-story balcony and reportedly wound up with a broken leg, but charges weren't filed.
When I ask Scott if the Arkansas incident has changed his behavior onstage, he answers without a moment's thought. "It hasn't," he says. "People gotta understand, sometimes shit gets out of control. I'm not trying to cause no harm – I just perform." He thinks for a second, then muses about a potential solution: getting even more popular than he already is. "I think I just gotta get into bigger spaces, have more space to get it in. Try to prevent some of that shit. I just wanna bring the stage to, like, the masses. I feel I have a show for the masses. It's probably at a point now where your uncle might know Travis, you know?"
Scott with girlfriend Kylie Jenner.Bob Levey/Getty Images
On one hand, Scott has taken such troubles as a publicity opportunity. After the Arkansas arrest, he sold fans a limited-edition T-shirt printed with his mug shot and the slogan "Free the rage." (Scott likes the word "rage," whether he's describing a cathartic onstage outlet or calling his devotees "ragers.") But there's an element of the negative attention that he doesn't like, too. "I wanna be recognized for some of the good shit I do," he says. Such as, he goes on, the enormous animatronic eagle that he had commissioned for his live shows, which looks a bit like a Henson creation, and which he rides above the stage, wings beating. "Man, I got a flying bird out here!" he says. "Name someone that's 25 doing that shit."
There's something childlike about Scott. The Rodeo album art and the music video for his single "90210" featured a poseable Travis Scott action figure. (In an un-childlike detail, it engages in some graphic action-figure boning before the video's through.) You can buy the action figure yourself, although the original run sold out, which means shelling out hundreds of dollars for one on eBay.
Scott says he was inspired to make the animatronic bird after he paid a visit to Legoland in San Diego. He's a big theme-park fan, to the extent that he's also been to the Denmark Legoland and titled his next album AstroWorld after a now-defunct park he used to visit in Texas. "It had a Dungeon Drop, Greezed Lightnin', Superman," he recalls. "It was a way of life – fantasies, imagination." AstroWorld doesn't have a confirmed release date yet, but Scott says that whenever the accompanying tour happens, he wants his concerts to double as bona-fide amusement parks, with rides encircling him as he performs. "I don't know why it hasn't been done already – I think people just don't do shit. Who makes stages these days that are cool?"
Scott was born Jacques Webster – his stage name was inspired by an uncle – and grew up in Missouri City, a middle-class Houston suburb. His father was an entrepreneur, his mother an Apple employee. When Scott was three years old, his dad bought him his own drum kit, which he played, as well as the piano, before quitting the latter, deciding that it couldn't help him get girls, whereas drum skills, which translated to beatmaking, would. As he puts it, "I was trying to fuck bitches, make beats, get fresh."
In high school, Scott acted in a local theater troupe. "I was a thespian, bruh," he recalls. "I was in this play Kiss Me, Kate – you heard of that? I did Oliver! I love that type of shit. I love drama." Scott's current DJ, Chase B, tells me they have been friends "since we were nine," adding that Scott "was a super-creative kid. When he acted in plays, he would always be the lead – that charisma was already showing through."
Scott's mug shot from this arrest in May.Rogers Police Department
Today, Scott directs his own music videos, a predilection he ties to a lifelong love of auteurs like John Hughes, Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez. "My favorite movie was The Breakfast Club," Scott says. "You ever seen Spy Kids? Nigga, that shit is crazy." When it came to music, his early hip-hop influences were flashy New Yorkers like Mase and Cam'ron. They gave way to Kid Cudi and West, who pushed contemporary hip-hop's emotive and melodic quotients into overdrive and eventually inspired Scott to bring grit, pain and darkness to his own music. (He also lists Portishead, Björk, Coldplay and the Sex Pistols among his favorite acts.)
Describing a category-busting creative ambition today, Scott says he wants to try his hand at architecture. He has a dream of studying it at Harvard. Which architects does he admire? "I honestly check for no one," he says. "I'm a master of my own imagination. I go off my own shit. I'm not into deep study – all that, like, reading? That's how shit ends up looking like someone else's shit." He smiles. "You ever see pictures in your head? I be having that all day. It's like a museum. That's why I don't do too many drugs, because my brain would explode. I'm my own drug. If I bleed and someone licked my blood, it's like liquid MDMA – know what I'm saying?"
You get a sense of what he's talking about when he takes the Oracle stage tonight, mounting his eagle and soaring high above the crowd, and shrieking, "My name is Travis Scott, and I like to fucking rage!" Stromberg, standing beside me in the center of the floor, says that in their ideal version of the show "the bird would be flying directly over the crowd," though the insurance logistics have proved insurmountable. Still, Scott likes pushing up against the constraints he's been given: "Security, we not stopping the fans from having fun tonight!" Scott bellows. "It's time to stand on top of these motherfucking chairs!"
Back in his dressing room some 45 minutes later, he tears his sweaty T-shirt off and stalks the floor, revved up. He walks over to a fridge, cracks a Powerade and chugs it. Stromberg pops his head in the doorway to announce a visitor. "Jack Dorsey, the CEO of Twitter, would like to say hi." Dorsey, dressed in a Bieberish ensemble of skinny jeans and extra-long T-shirt, enters. "I didn't think I'd ever meet you," Scott tells him.
"f I bleed and someone licked my blood, it's like liquid MDMA," Scott says.Christopher Polk/Getty Images
"Thanks for your music – and for using Twitter," says Dorsey.
"What you got going on tonight?" Scott asks.
"This," Dorsey replies.
"Nigga, Kendrick be going brazy," Scott observes.
"... Yes," Dorsey tentatively agrees.
After Dorsey leaves with some complimentary merch, Scott FaceTimes Jenner. The two have kept the details of their relationship under wraps, but butterflies seem to be part of it: They both got matching butterfly tattoos; his newest single, which makes numerous seeming allusions to Jenner, is called "Butterfly Effect"; and he recently bought her a reported $60,000 diamond chain, shaped like the insect, for her birthday.
Her face pops up on his iPhone screen, nestled into a pillow. "I just got offstage," he tells her. "I miss you. I love you."
"How was it?" she asks. "Good. I'm tired. I smoked a lot of weed."
Members of Scott's entourage start loudly poking fun at Stromberg – apparently there was some sort of pushup challenge earlier, and some of the guys have jokes about his abilities. The clowning distracts Scott, who puts Jenner on mute so he can more fully partake. "Did you put me on mute?" she asks. "Nah, I didn't put you on mute – it was just a sound delay," he says, chuckling. Someone likens Stromberg's pushup style, absurdly, to that of Mr. Potato Head, at which point Scott cracks up, falls to the floor, drops the phone, keeps laughing – and then seemingly forgets about the call. A minute later, he stuffs the phone into his pocket. I can see that Jenner is still connected. He directs his crew to the tour bus. It's a nine-hour drive to Las Vegas, site of tomorrow's show. "Let's roll out!" Scott cries, and they're gone.
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We follow hip-hop sensation Travis Scott on tour, as he masterminds wild shows, works on new music in his bus and FaceTimes girlfriend Kylie Jenner.Ahmed Klink/ © Sunday AfternoonTravis Scott bursts into his dressing room on a scooter, trailing assorted entourage and radiating the rich aroma of good weed. He makes for a catering table lined with Fruit Roll-Ups, Honey Buns, Lucky Charms and – for good measure – two bottles of Don Julio 1942 tequila. He's at the Oracle Arena in Oakland, about to face a sold-out crowd. "Let's get this bitch turnt!" he yells at no one in particular, letting the scooter fall to the carpet. Scott's manager, David Stromberg, brings Scott's attention to a dry-erase board, tucked behind a curtain, where a basketball play has been diagrammed in marker. Oracle is home to the Golden State Warriors, and Stromberg says that the Cleveland Cavaliers used this space as their locker room during the finals in June. The diagram, titled "BRON ISO," contains LeBron James–centric directives such as "KYRIE PASS IT" and "JR GET THE FUCK OUT THE WAY." "This is, like, the last thing Tyronn Lue wrote," Stromberg says, referring to the Cavs' coach. Scott, taking it in, laughs hard. " 'Get the fuck out the way!' " he cries. RelatedWatch Travis Scott's New Short Film Featuring Kanye West, Puff Daddy Seth Rogen, Migos' Quavo, producer Mike Dean and more make cameos in 'La Flame' He's winding down a 20-show tour opening for Kendrick Lamar. Originally from Houston, Scott rolled into the Bay Area early this morning, following a show in Vancouver. He spent all of today holed up on his bus, he tells me, working on new tracks that might wind up on his next album: "Just chillin', recording. Formulating a story, the picture I'm trying to paint. It's fun making music on the road – I got a whole studio bus." He plops down on a couch, gets lost in his phone. "The energy's been a little strange show-to-show on this tour," Stromberg says. "I mean, Travis brings the energy, but there's been seating at every show. He wants to get his fans onstage and get them to stage-dive – but there's chairs." He theorizes that "it's a numbers thing – I think you can sell more tickets when you do seats than when you do general admission." Scott says, "I can't speak to that," but confirms that he prefers the unmanaged vibe of a big, chair-free pit, where crowds can more readily cut loose: "Pffft," he says. "I'm never doing a tour with seats again." "Travis' fans are a little younger," Stromberg continues. "Kendrick's are a little older, and they're here for" – he throws up air quotes – " 'real hip-hop.' " Stromberg is drawing a distinction between Lamar's dense, classicist virtuosity and what Scott does best, which is different: deliver simple, beguiling phrases about partying and drugs in an Auto-Tuned singsong over hard-edged, low-lit beats. It's a style you hear everywhere in hip-hop these days, from Migos to Future. It's also a style that Scott – whose debut mixtape, Owl Pharaoh, came out in 2013, the same year he worked behind the scenes with Kanye West on Yeezus – helped pioneer. Scott has been on a roll ever since. He's dating Kylie Jenner. (And, it turns out, having a kid with her, according to TMZ reports published after our interview.) He has co-written or co-produced songs not only with West but also Rihanna (whom he's also rumored to have dated) and Madonna. His albums Rodeo and Birds in the Trap Sing Mc-Knight mix pop impulses – honeyed, hypnotic hooks – with irregular structures and droning flows that verge on avant-garde. Both are platinum, and they've both produced platinum singles, like the narcotic "Antidote" and the Lamar-assisted "Goosebumps."Scott has also become known for a live show so raucous that – if you believe law enforcement, anyway – it's literally criminal. He was arrested this past May, after a show in Rogers, Arkansas, on charges of inciting a riot for encouraging fans to rush the stage. Police say that several people were injured, among them a security guard and a cop. (Scott, who pleaded not guilty, faced similar charges in 2015 following a concert in Chicago.) Shortly before the Arkansas show, Scott encouraged a fan at a New York concert to jump down from a second-floor balcony, before ordering audience members to form a human net to catch him. A different fan fell from the third-story balcony and reportedly wound up with a broken leg, but charges weren't filed. When I ask Scott if the Arkansas incident has changed his behavior onstage, he answers without a moment's thought. "It hasn't," he says. "People gotta understand, sometimes shit gets out of control. I'm not trying to cause no harm – I just perform." He thinks for a second, then muses about a potential solution: getting even more popular than he already is. "I think I just gotta get into bigger spaces, have more space to get it in. Try to prevent some of that shit. I just wanna bring the stage to, like, the masses. I feel I have a show for the masses. It's probably at a point now where your uncle might know Travis, you know?"Scott with girlfriend Kylie Jenner.Bob Levey/Getty ImagesOn one hand, Scott has taken such troubles as a publicity opportunity. After the Arkansas arrest, he sold fans a limited-edition T-shirt printed with his mug shot and the slogan "Free the rage." (Scott likes the word "rage," whether he's describing a cathartic onstage outlet or calling his devotees "ragers.") But there's an element of the negative attention that he doesn't like, too. "I wanna be recognized for some of the good shit I do," he says. Such as, he goes on, the enormous animatronic eagle that he had commissioned for his live shows, which looks a bit like a Henson creation, and which he rides above the stage, wings beating. "Man, I got a flying bird out here!" he says. "Name someone that's 25 doing that shit." There's something childlike about Scott. The Rodeo album art and the music video for his single "90210" featured a poseable Travis Scott action figure. (In an un-childlike detail, it engages in some graphic action-figure boning before the video's through.) You can buy the action figure yourself, although the original run sold out, which means shelling out hundreds of dollars for one on eBay. Scott says he was inspired to make the animatronic bird after he paid a visit to Legoland in San Diego. He's a big theme-park fan, to the extent that he's also been to the Denmark Legoland and titled his next album AstroWorld after a now-defunct park he used to visit in Texas. "It had a Dungeon Drop, Greezed Lightnin', Superman," he recalls. "It was a way of life – fantasies, imagination." AstroWorld doesn't have a confirmed release date yet, but Scott says that whenever the accompanying tour happens, he wants his concerts to double as bona-fide amusement parks, with rides encircling him as he performs. "I don't know why it hasn't been done already – I think people just don't do shit. Who makes stages these days that are cool?"Scott was born Jacques Webster – his stage name was inspired by an uncle – and grew up in Missouri City, a middle-class Houston suburb. His father was an entrepreneur, his mother an Apple employee. When Scott was three years old, his dad bought him his own drum kit, which he played, as well as the piano, before quitting the latter, deciding that it couldn't help him get girls, whereas drum skills, which translated to beatmaking, would. As he puts it, "I was trying to fuck bitches, make beats, get fresh." In high school, Scott acted in a local theater troupe. "I was a thespian, bruh," he recalls. "I was in this play Kiss Me, Kate – you heard of that? I did Oliver! I love that type of shit. I love drama." Scott's current DJ, Chase B, tells me they have been friends "since we were nine," adding that Scott "was a super-creative kid. When he acted in plays, he would always be the lead – that charisma was already showing through." Scott's mug shot from this arrest in May.Rogers Police DepartmentToday, Scott directs his own music videos, a predilection he ties to a lifelong love of auteurs like John Hughes, Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez. "My favorite movie was The Breakfast Club," Scott says. "You ever seen Spy Kids? Nigga, that shit is crazy." When it came to music, his early hip-hop influences were flashy New Yorkers like Mase and Cam'ron. They gave way to Kid Cudi and West, who pushed contemporary hip-hop's emotive and melodic quotients into overdrive and eventually inspired Scott to bring grit, pain and darkness to his own music. (He also lists Portishead, Björk, Coldplay and the Sex Pistols among his favorite acts.) Describing a category-busting creative ambition today, Scott says he wants to try his hand at architecture. He has a dream of studying it at Harvard. Which architects does he admire? "I honestly check for no one," he says. "I'm a master of my own imagination. I go off my own shit. I'm not into deep study – all that, like, reading? That's how shit ends up looking like someone else's shit." He smiles. "You ever see pictures in your head? I be having that all day. It's like a museum. That's why I don't do too many drugs, because my brain would explode. I'm my own drug. If I bleed and someone licked my blood, it's like liquid MDMA – know what I'm saying?" You get a sense of what he's talking about when he takes the Oracle stage tonight, mounting his eagle and soaring high above the crowd, and shrieking, "My name is Travis Scott, and I like to fucking rage!" Stromberg, standing beside me in the center of the floor, says that in their ideal version of the show "the bird would be flying directly over the crowd," though the insurance logistics have proved insurmountable. Still, Scott likes pushing up against the constraints he's been given: "Security, we not stopping the fans from having fun tonight!" Scott bellows. "It's time to stand on top of these motherfucking chairs!"Back in his dressing room some 45 minutes later, he tears his sweaty T-shirt off and stalks the floor, revved up. He walks over to a fridge, cracks a Powerade and chugs it. Stromberg pops his head in the doorway to announce a visitor. "Jack Dorsey, the CEO of Twitter, would like to say hi." Dorsey, dressed in a Bieberish ensemble of skinny jeans and extra-long T-shirt, enters. "I didn't think I'd ever meet you," Scott tells him."f I bleed and someone licked my blood, it's like liquid MDMA," Scott says.Christopher Polk/Getty Images"Thanks for your music – and for using Twitter," says Dorsey. "What you got going on tonight?" Scott asks. "This," Dorsey replies. "Nigga, Kendrick be going brazy," Scott observes."... Yes," Dorsey tentatively agrees. After Dorsey leaves with some complimentary merch, Scott FaceTimes Jenner. The two have kept the details of their relationship under wraps, but butterflies seem to be part of it: They both got matching butterfly tattoos; his newest single, which makes numerous seeming allusions to Jenner, is called "Butterfly Effect"; and he recently bought her a reported $60,000 diamond chain, shaped like the insect, for her birthday. Her face pops up on his iPhone screen, nestled into a pillow. "I just got offstage," he tells her. "I miss you. I love you." "How was it?" she asks. "Good. I'm tired. I smoked a lot of weed."Members of Scott's entourage start loudly poking fun at Stromberg – apparently there was some sort of pushup challenge earlier, and some of the guys have jokes about his abilities. The clowning distracts Scott, who puts Jenner on mute so he can more fully partake. "Did you put me on mute?" she asks. "Nah, I didn't put you on mute – it was just a sound delay," he says, chuckling. Someone likens Stromberg's pushup style, absurdly, to that of Mr. Potato Head, at which point Scott cracks up, falls to the floor, drops the phone, keeps laughing – and then seemingly forgets about the call. A minute later, he stuffs the phone into his pocket. I can see that Jenner is still connected. He directs his crew to the tour bus. It's a nine-hour drive to Las Vegas, site of tomorrow's show. "Let's roll out!" Scott cries, and they're gone.Let's block ads! (Why?)Posted from: this blog via Microsoft Flow.
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