pit pulls


harry looking adorably soft while rubbing away the last of his eye makeup - [ october 2015 ]


“We should have fire in the Heavydirtysoul music video,” Tyler suggested randomly.

Earlier that day, Josh had told Tyler he had Pyrokinesis, the ability to control fire with his mind. Josh wasn’t surprised when Tyler jumped up and down like a child and talked about his own mutation, and Joshs.

You had always known. You two had met in the ER after you had troubles with controlling your mutation, resulting in burns and cuts all over yourself, which was odd, considering you could control minds and objects. Josh had accidentally burned his hand, a gentle reminder that stoves, unless they were gas, were not fire. You’d soothed his thoughts, and later exchanged numbers.

Since then, you were thick as thieves.

And 3 months after meeting, he asked you out. He set up a fire pit and pulled you close, asking it so quietly you almost didn’t hear.

“I don’t know about that, Ty. Mutants really don’t have a good rep, how would they feel about knowing I was… yknow… me,” Josh said. You placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked toward you.

“We’re all mutants, baby,” you started, “you and Ty are probably the only ‘all mutant’ band in the world.”

“They don’t have to know if you don’t want them to,” Tyler said, “we’d play it off as us just lighting a fire next to your drums.”

Josh looked over at you and visibly deflated, “I guess,” he sighed, running his hand through his yellow hair, “but (y/n) needs to be there. For support.”

“Obviously, baby,” you said, kissing his cheek and resting your head on his shoulder.


“You’re gonna have to be in full control as you drum, do you think you can do it?” The producer asked. Today was the big day, Josh was going to control the fire surrounding his drumset. It was decided they weren’t going to tell fans that they were mutants, for everyone’s sake.

“Yes he can,” you answered, the producer nodded and continued to help Tyler with the car scene. You pulled him aside and tugged him in for a hug. “I need you to close your eyes and take a few deep breaths,” you said.

“How is this-”

“Just do it,” you said, he nodded and closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths, and you could feel his thoughts racing through his head, “you have to make your mind blank, I can’t take them when they’re racing around like this,” he nodded, taking a few more. You took his thoughts and morphed them from nervous energy to adrenaline. Hopefully he could use it instead of being so nervous he’d mess up.

“You ready to do your thing?” Tyler asked.



You watched closely as Joshs fire burned bright, and he pounded the shit of his drums. When they finally wrapped recording he ran over to you, adrenaline still obviously running through his veins. He picked you up and spun you around in his arms. He smashed his lips to yours, and almost as soon as he did so, fire sprung up around you.

As cliche as it was, rocks were floating and fire was heating the chilled air around you. The adrenaline rubbing off on you. A constant downside to your ability, your emotions were easily influenced by people’s emotions.

When you finally pulled apart, the fire simmered out and the rocks hit the ground with a thump.

You heard Tyler clapping and jumping up and down excitedly. You and Josh shared a look, mentally preparing for the excited fangirling that would ensue.

When it ended,
when you pulled the pit out of me,
I moved into our metaphor.
I leapt across state lines
straight into the belly of an orchard state.
Sure, I fumbled at farmer’s markets
and still breathe heavy in the produce aisle,
but I put your cue into other poems.
I made it mine.
Do you hear me?
All that wanting,

all that aching,

all that capacity for love:

it never belonged to you in the first place.
—  RECLAIMING THE PEACH by Trista Mateer
  • Luke: Happy Birthday asshole!
  • Percy: So you just gonna bring me a birthday gift on my birthday to my birthday party on my birthday with a birthday gift?
  • Luke: Happy Birthday?
  • Percy: -punches him-
  • Percy: Luke and I used to be real close until he decided to pull that pit scorpion birthday thing he did. That is the most inconsiderate thing you can do to a person on their birthday. I wasn't feeling that.

BioWare intended Mass Effect: Andromeda to be a stand-alone title in the ME universe, not a continuation of the stand-alone trilogy.

The fandom and the publisher took issue with that.

BioWare let out another despairing wail as it clawed its way up the side of the pit. A thousand hands pulled at its limbs and clothes. 

“What about the LGBT romances?” one voice hisses.

“The first game was better,” another snarls.

“I want prettier hair!” someone cries.

More voices, never-ending, erupt from the pit, crying out to have their every whims catered to. Whining to have an entirely new game live up to their romanticized nostalgia. “It was made by a new development team!” BioWare sobs, vainly trying to defend itself. “I just wanted it to be a self-contained story! I wanted to try new things!”

“Never try new things!” the pit declares. “Let us fuck the aliens! Let us fuck the aliens! Let us fuck the aliens!” 

The chant builds, and builds, until it is naught but the voiceless roar of a million sexually-repressed fans. BioWare climbs, and climbs, fingernails broken and bloody as it tries to escape the endless sea of faceless hands and voices.

BioWare climbs to the top, and one hand claps against the ground, giving them a ledge to hoist themselves up. “Please,” it says, tears glimmering in its eyes.

A sleek, black, business shoe stomps down on BioWare’s hand. The studio lets out a cry. Electronic Arts digs its heel into BioWare’s hand, standing over the pit and watching the fandom writhe within.

“Sorry, kid.”

“EA!” BioWare exclaims. “Please- Please, you don’t have to do this-”

EA calmly pulls a cigarette from its coat pocket. Lights it. “I don’t think you understand. I pull the strings, here. I am the one who decides whether you live or die. And, well…” It takes a breath off the smoking cigarette. “… The more you cater to the fandom - even if it’s half-assed - the more money I make, and the more souls I harvest. I can’t just let you escape and make different kinds of games, can I?”

“No.” BioWare’s eyes widen. “No, no, no please, God, no-!”

EA flicks ash across the ground. “Now be a good little developer and do your job, alright?” 

EA stomps BioWare’s hand, and the studio falls. Back, into the writhing mass of mouths and hands, which instantly devour it and shred it to pieces.

“The asexual relationships!” someone shrieks.

“I didn’t ask for multiplayer!”

“What about returning characters?”

EA throws its cigarette into the pit, stuffs its hands into its pockets, and walks away.

76 in the past #6

/updates at one in the am, pls do me a forgive. THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR YOUR KIND COMMENTS AND ATTENTION ;O;

Fun fact, the thing from the first paragraph is a true story a classmate of mine told me about a used car he’d bought. …It’s kind of disturbing, so maybe skip the first paragraph if you don’t like being disturbed.


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My name is Georgia and I got to meet All Time Low at Soundwave 2015. My friends and I got stuck in Marilyn Manson’s Mosh pit and where pulled out the back of the crowed where we saw Alex, Jack and Rian from All Time Low. Sadly that day they weren’t doing a Signing and we got there to late so we didn’t get to meet any other bands. My friend Amy and I and another girl Tabitha who we had helped out got the chance to take a photo with Alex Gaskarth after my friends aunt asked them.