#in my mind poppy is setting the fireworks off

[aisul-art]

They're all Watching fireworks! Well...some. How nice.

I do have a Version where you Can see The Firework light Illuminating on Them but I'm Not Too sure if I'm gonna Post it.

[incendio22]

FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL

Pt 2 Chapter 8: Anonymous

I wake up feeling uneasy. Something about last night is bothering me, but I can't place what it is that is feeling off. I remember kissing Garreth, trying to kiss Sebastian, having a decent date with Garreth. Nothing should make me feel bothered, except potentially the part where Sebastian didn't kiss me. But I think it was for the better since I didn't do it because I wanted to kiss him, but because I wanted to see if there were any fireworks. I shrug it off, telling myself that I will probably feel sparks with Garreth if I kiss him enough times.

I'm meeting Poppy later to tell her everything about the date. In all honesty, I think she might be more excited to hear about it than I was going on it. But she is an excited person in general, so that makes sense. I'm conflicted because the thing about yesterday that I feel most excited about is the fact that I finally got to tell Sebastian exactly how much I despise him. And why. It felt so good to get it out, but I'm also confused why it makes me feel so excited. It feels forbidden, which makes it feel almost mysterious. For probably the 100th time I ask myself if it makes any sense to desperately want someone you hate.

I meet Poppy close to the forest, where we sit down on the slightly moist ground. The sun is shining, which it has been for the last days to my surprise, and I lay back to catch as many rays of sun as possible.

''So,'' she says in a voice that indicates that she is eager for details. ''How did it go?''

''It was alright,'' I tell her. ''We went to The Three Broomsticks and I took him on a ride on my broom. Then we went to a party.''

''Honestly Y/n,'' she says in a serious tone. ''I don't really want to know what you did, but rather how it was.''

''Well,'' I start, conflicted about what I should answer. ''It was nice. We kissed and that was nice, too. But no fireworks like I used to feel with Sebastian.''

She smiles, as if she knows something I don't. Her face quickly goes back to rather serious.

''Does that trouble you?'' she asks, tilting her head.

''A little,'' I admit.

''I'm no expert,'' she says in a soft voice. ''But I can imagine that you feel more intensely for some people, and less for others. And that it's not always a bad thing.''

''What do you mean?'' I ask and make a confused face.

''Well,'' she starts. ''That just because you didn't feel fireworks it doesn't mean there will never be a spark. That you can like him without fireworks.''

''That doesn't make sense,'' I tell her, even more confused than before.

''It does!'' she argues. ''Some people are fireworks and others are campfires. They are both beautiful, but they make you feel different.''

''That was an awful metaphor,'' I say with a laugh.

''It was not!'' she argues with a laugh. ''Milena was a firework, too. But I think campfires are more my thing. You just need to make up your mind on what's yours.''

I nod and finally understand her metaphor. It does make sense, but I don't like what she said because it makes me more confused. It would be so much easier if she just said that if there's no fireworks, it's not meant to be.

''We need to find you someone new,'' I tell her with a smirk.

''You know I don't do well with people,'' she says in a frustrated tone. ''It was better when it was just me and Highwing. No feelings hurt, just happiness.''

''I would set you up with Ominis, but I think he's falling for Imelda.'' I say, trying to come up with someone fit for Poppy.

''Nah, he's not really my type,'' she says. ''I mean, Milena wasn't either. But next time I'm going to go for someone that is.''

''Please don't tell me it's an animal,'' I laugh.

When I come back to my dormitory I see a letter laying on my bed. I'm surprised, hoping that it's not another disappointing letter from Sebastian. I open it and don't recognize the handwriting.

''Y/N,

You have something that belongs to us. Meet us in the castle close to Clagmar Coast next Sunday. We will be waiting for you. If you don't show, make sure to say goodbye to the people you care about.''

I'm confused and terrified. Who would send this and why? I can't think of anything in my possession that could even be considered to belong to anyone but me. And I'm even more confused by the fact that it appears to be more than one person who thinks I owe them something. My first instinct is to tell Ominis about this, but I push the thought away and tell myself that it's most likely someone trying to pull a prank on me. A very dull one, but nonetheless a prank.

The sun is setting and I decide to head to the astronomy tower to catch a look at the sunset. Since autumn at Hogwarts normally means absurd amounts of rain, I'm determined to catch every last look of the sun I might get. The sky is a soft pink and orange color. It's like a picture. I look carefully and try my very best to remember this very moment. There is a chilly breeze, but I don't mind. I'm too captured by the gorgeous sunset.

''Hi there,'' a friendly voice says. I was so focused that I didn't even notice anyone coming up behind me. I turn around and see Garreth. ''Gorgeous, right?''

He nods towards the sunset. I nod.

''I love sunsets,'' I tell him in, staring at the sun.

''Me too,'' his voice is soft as he speaks. ''Thanks for last night, by the way. But please, don't ever take me on that broom of yours ever again.''

''That was the best part of the night,'' I argue jokingly. ''I loved hearing you scream like a child behind me,''

''Oh, that wasn't me,'' he jokes. I look at him, he looks too kind for this world. ''And my best part of the night was the kiss.''

I had completely forgotten about that part as I was looking at the sunset and thinking about the broom ride. I feel terrible for forgetting and I'm not sure how to dodge that.

''It was nice,'' I tell him in a soft voice.

He nods and raises his eyebrows, staring at the sunset. It's getting darker, but the light is still soft. All I can think about is the anonymous letter I got. Something in my gut is telling me that it's not a prank, but of course I cannot know. I feel Garreth's hand on my arm, moving closer to me. I look at him and he is already looking at me. He's leaning closer, going in for a kiss.

The sun has almost fully set and we are standing at the top of the astronomy tower, kissing. He has one hand on my cheek and I have my hands in his hair. His lips are soft and warm and he tastes like tea. This really is the perfect moment for a kiss, but I still don't feel any fireworks. I wish I could feel sparks flying, but they never come. Garreth is looking at me with kind eyes and I'm watching the last piece of the sun fade away behind the lake.

As we walk back to the common room I think about Poppy's words. Some people are fireworks and others are a campfire. However, I'm still clueless when I ask myself which one I like better. Subconsciously, I know. But nor my head or heart is aware yet. And I'm starting to feel desperate for those fireworks.

I feel like an emotional wreck. The questionable feelings for Garreth, the mixed feelings for Sebastian and the fear from the letter. There is so much going on and I wish I could find a way to make them make sense. To be an emotional wreck, but aware of your emotions, is painful. But barely even knowing what you're feeling is worse. I sit down in front of the windows facing the lake, making Anne company who is already sitting there.

''What is it with everyone and stealing my spot?'' I ask her in a friendly, but lowkey annoyed tone.

''It's a good spot,'' she says in a kind voice. ''I could spend hours here, hoping that I might see a mermaid or something.''

''Trust me,'' I tell her. ''I have spent countless hours there and I have never seen a mermaid. But we should make a rumor about it. The younger Slytherins would look like fools.''

We laugh together and look out in the lake.

''Are you going on a date with Sebastian, by the way?'' she asks me in a curious voice.

I nod and glance her way.

''Yeah, but nothing will happen,'' I let her know. ''It's just so I can get some closure.''

She nods understandingly, not taking her eyes away from the window.

''You deserve that,'' she says, sounding as if she's dreaming. ''I hope you get the closure you need to move on.''

''Weren't you trying to talk me into talking to him just like, three days ago?'' I ask her in a sarcastic tone.

She smiles.

''I was,'' she says, still sounding rather dreamy. ''But I also know what it's like to need to move on. You've been nothing but kind to me, I wouldn't want you to hold onto the pain longer than you need.''

''Oh,'' I say in a surprised voice. ''I'm not holding onto any pain. But I still want closure, so I can move on for real.''

Why would she assume I'm holding onto any pain? I may have my moments of weakness, but frankly I feel stronger than ever after what happened. I was forced to open my eyes, respect myself and my boundaries better and learn to put myself first. It wasn't easy, but I did it for me. I'm hurt by the fact that she doesn't seem to see that and I wonder how everyone else sees me, but I quickly brush away the thought since their opinions don't matter to me.

[frostcorpsclub]

Hello friend~! Hope your new year is starting out amazing!! I was wondering if I could maybe request some headcanons of giving out sweetie pie Lubdan a New Year’s smooch! If it’s not too much to ask! Love your works, btw💕

I know it’s been a bit, I apologize but in my defense this request was sent in after New Years anyway XD I did some research into traditional irish new years traditions so this was fun, I expanded on your request a bit I hope you don’t mind! 

As the new year approaches the first thing you'd notice is that Lubdan becomes more anal about things being clean than ever before. 

He slaps a broom in your hand the moment you step through the door. If you even THINK about not taking off your shoes at the entry way you’ll get chewed out for an hour, then chewed out again for making him take time away from cleaning. 

He repeats over and over that it’s important to him to start the new year with a clean slate. 

Ridding your house of each bit of wrapping debris is also a wonderful way to get his mind off the egregious amounts of money he had to spend on Christmas.

Especially since the house is going to get very messy again as he takes part in your new year's traditions, which he’d be over the moon to do! But first…

Christmas bread! 

In spite of all his cleaning he left out two pieces of bread he’d have taught you to bake earlier in the month. One for him and one for you. At this point they’d be hard as a rock.

He’d slam in on the table so hard it made his small body recoil a bit before exclaiming, “How grand!” Lubdan would demand you take his lead, “Ah’ll take the front of the house you take the back!”

You probably wouldn’t understand what he meant until he began banging the bread up and down the doors and up and down the walls. It’s to chase out the bad spirits and invite in the good.

You’d be best to keep it to yourself that he is, in fact, a bad spirit.

When the fun finally began you’d have your green spitfire back! You don’t have to succeed but he’d get a kick out of a lad or lassie who tried to drink him under the table!

He doesn’t mind getting silly either, you’d both be decked out from head to toe in year-themed glasses, hats covered in glitter, and beads of all kinds. 

When you went outside to light up fireworks he’d be absolutely giddy with delight! 

“Safety” isn’t usually his thing but you’d probably have invested in ones that wouldn’t catch his little green coattails on fire when he tried to be a firestarter. 

As it got darker out Lubdan would get antsy again and rush you back inside, it was almost time for dinner. It was an important tradition for anyone let alone just the Irish, but it has a high importance to him most of all.

At your long dinner table theres a place for the two of you, each set across from each other-

-And on either side a long stretch of empty table settings for the countless fellow leprechauns he lost over the centuries. 

It’s a sobering respite in the night’s festivities and a time you’d see Lubdan more quietly in thought than ever before.

Just in time for the stroke of midnight you’d walk out of the house so you could, hand in hand, walk in through the front and then out through the back. 

He’d take a moment to look at you, warmly squeezing your hand. Still silent as before but with a gaze that can only portray how proud he is to have a partner who will share all his traditions with him. 

The kiss you share is quick and celebratory at first and slowly turns into a scene from a movie. Time stops as the scent of buttercups and poppies fill your nose. 

He grips your arms and holds you like he plans to never let you go. 

It’s…lewd and gropey as he definitely has further new years plans for you, but in the midst of devouring your lips a clawed hand lovingly cups your cheek.

.

As if he’s afraid you're just a dream who’ll fade into years past like everyone else he’s loved.

[paradoxkinspace]

Question for any of y'all to answer, what do you guys think the trolls smell like? Or maybe what they smelled like in one of your timlines? Fun little detail I love to hear about :o)

💫: that.... honestly is a question i end up considering a lot of the time since most of my memories are just weird snippets of sensory stuff. i think while there's like. a general troll smell (kinda the way there's like. a basic people smell. or like. how an animal just *smells* like that animal in general? but that feels pretty generically background and as odd as it might sound its like. a similar sort of metallic-ish smell to like. coins or blood? but like... also kinda smells vaguely industrial? like metal mixed with dirt or like. mud? like the smell of wet concrete. like after it rains and you can smell the sidewalk and grass still covered in all the rainwater? or like. that ozone smell from thunderstorms, especially how sharp it is in the mountains? yeah like that. at least as the counterpart to the general human like. "skin" smell?? i mean that in the least weird way i possibly can ^^;;;;; anyway.... in terms of trolls' specific smells in different timelines... hmm... here's a few of the ones that stand out to me! (it’s all gamzee timelines predictably)

while sollux maryam (gamzee zahhak tl) tended to smell sort of like poppy flowers and honeycomb, his sburb planet (land of blight and disarray) smelled exactly like a corpse flower. (i on the other hand mostly smelled like rust and hydrogen peroxide or sometimes hot sand or wet rocks). in that same timeline karkat peixes in my mind is always linked to the smell of pink sea salt and like... sort of a salmon-y sort of smell?

karkat makara (gamzee vantas tl) smells distinctly like popcorn!! and just a little bit like that burnt ashy sulfur smell that gets stuck in the air after a bunch of fireworks are set off. so kinda like burnt popcorn but like. in a good way cuz thats my boy <> <> <>

in my gamzee megido timeline a lot of things just smell kind of like cheap acrylic paint but anytime kurloz was around contacting me he sort of had like??? a ghost smell??? it was sort of like.... wet?? and sour??? like mud and gasoline, i guess. aradia makara smelled like strawberry preserves, grape jelly, and unscented wax melts. eridan serket had that sort of smell of like. a beach but more like the cliff overhanging a beach? so its like a beach but like, cold, ya know? im not sure if that makes much sense lol

🃏: I do have to agree with mod clowncAR on the whole like...general troll smell thing, like that really metallic and ozone smell, y'know? but I know on Beforus (especially in my Meulin timeline specifically, but it was there for almost all of them) there was always like. a wet leaf smell to everyone. and how bugs just smell. like that real specific smell of insects, like when there's a lot of Japanese beetles in one place, or how like. fireflies smell. outside of that, I do have some specific timeline ones.

in my feferi pyrope tl, my karkat maryam smelled like hair gel (which was a very like. baby powder-y and coconut oil smell), and also like slightly burnt caramel. and metal. that boy wore so much jewelry.

in my rufioh makara tl, porrim serket smelled like a really really floral and sweet perfume, and like dried herbs and dessert wines. she also smelled like kind of older face powders and lipsticks which I personally loved. cronus zahhak smelled like machine oil and sweat and like a really strong and peppery cologne that, surprisingly, always worked well with the machine-y smell in my opinion. he smelled like cloves too, and incense. I liked how he and porrim smelled <3 (mituna complained that cronus made him sneeze too much)

in my rome strider tl, I specifically smelled like caramel and kinda like. old leaves? idk I grew up in like, the middle of no-where in appalachia, in a haunted sanatorium, I just kinda smelled like an old, cold cement building for a long time. and then I started smelling like facepaint and powder and a little fruity, but it was like. a sickly sweet smell, one you'd associate with fermenting fruit. jackie crocker smelled like strawberries and cake and something kinda peppery and it was just. nice. she also kinda smelled like a grandma but I thought it was good. worked with all of her other smells.

🍭: stinky >:)

[ellie-e-marcovitz]

A Kiss to Build a Dream on

@lifeofkaze​ final story! Thank you for running the challenge, even if it’s five months later.

Sixth year – February 1892

Cyrus’s pov

It was the day of the Valentine’s Day ball, and everyone was in a flurry of activity. Preparations had been well underway as the date of the ball approached. St. Valentine’s Day was a Sunday, tomorrow, which left the ball to be held the Saturday before, today.

I had managed to get a date, one Florence Morgan in Hufflepuff, but the big rumour was that Eleanor Parkmoore had turned down every date asking her to the ball.

I had managed to find one of her dorm mates, Seraphina Hopper, who had reluctantly confirmed that Eleanor had decided to instead spend the evening finishing an essay for History of Magic. She then left me at the table in Gryffindor common room, heading back up to her dorm.

I sighed in frustration, at both her admittedly cagey friends and the situation at hand.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Florence Morgan, though I suspected she was partly interested in me because of my family’s money than anything else. She struck me as someone who cared more for appearances rather than who they were.

But she would no doubt make someone a good wife.

And which is why, now several hours later, with the ball in full swing, it was surprising seeing Eleanor walking straight towards me.

Not that I minded. Besides Natsai, Poppy, and Sebastian, Eleanor was one of the few people that I knew.

Florence had gone off, chatting with a Ravenclaw I didn’t recognise, leaving me to stare into my glass of butterbeer. I was also closer to the doors, losing interest in being around other people.

And there she was, coming into the Great Hall and looking equally as uncomfortable. Thankfully, we were closer to being outside the ball than in it. She spotted me, and brief look of happiness crossed her face.

She came over, bumping her shoulder with my arm, letting me know that she was there. A quiet moment passed, enjoying each other’s company.

Before a wave of dizziness, even as I felt remarkably clear-headed, as Eleanor gripped my arm. So it wasn’t all in my head. They shared a look.

“May I?” I asked quietly, my voice shaking.

She nodded. “You may.” Her voice was shaking too.

It was brief, but memorable, and without a care of what other people thought. It felt almost like fireworks were exploding nearby. I wasn’t entirely sure how long it lasted, but it was long enough that one of the professors had noticed, and we were sent back to Gryffindor tower.

We were giddy, once we away from the Great Hall. I didn’t even realise that I hadn’t set my glass down.

Entering the darkened Gryffindor common room, she kissed me again, this time on the cheek, and bade me good night. I mumbled a good night in reply, still a little stunned.

Kallithea, Greece - February 2000

Jacob’s pov

I admired the sunny view from the flat, taking in the last views of Greece, before our Portkey left for England. I honestly wasn’t looking forward to seeing snow again, but Ellie had begged me and Olivia to come.

Olivia was packing her bags, making sure she had warm enough clothes. He mentally checked over his own.

Jackets? Check.

Jumpers? Check.

Long pants, not linen? Check.

Wool socks? Check.

A thought came into his mind – Ring?

Ring? Ring! Mum had given me one of the family promise/engagement rings when I had visited, not long after Ellie had graduated from Hogwarts.

I scrambled for the dresser, which was the only spot in our sparsely decorated bedroom where I could hide it. Olivia had beaten me to it, and was holding the delicate ring box in the palm of her hand.

“Marry me,” I blurted out, dropping to my knee right then and there. “I’ll admit, this wasn’t how I was planning to do it. It��s hardly in front of the Parthenon. Or in the British Museum. But…” I stood up, taking in her shocked expression, opening the delicate ring box and revealing the ring inside.

“Olivia Phyllida Green, would you spend the rest of your life with me?” I asked. Tears grew in her eyes, and I worried a little. Had it been too sudden?

“What took you so long?” she suddenly asked in response, shocking me. “Of course I’ll marry you!” She pulled me into a massive hug, shoving the box into my hands, pulling me in for a kiss, however damp. I shakily took the ring out after she released me and I slipped it on the appropriate finger.

One kiss turned into two, which turned into almost missing our Portkey, and leaving our bags behind. Considering what happened, I’m glad that we didn’t.

July 2000 – the Burrow

Ellie’s pov

“Speech!” Jacob called, standing up, clinking his knife against his glass, and drawing everyone’s attention up to the front. “Thank you. And while it’s only been a few months, since the last time we saw most of you…” he started, a cheeky smile on his face, and light laughter from the crowd gathered.

“Somehow, even after what’s happened, my sister and Charlie still love each other. Somehow.” More laughter, and I buried my burning face in my hands.

Whose bright idea had this been? I glanced out into the gathered crowd. Mum appeared torn between laughter and horror. Dad was chuckling right along.

“Nah, just kidding. But seriously, seriously, though,” he continued, quieting the last of the laughter. “You both have survived far crazier things and come out the better because of it.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group, considering we had gone to school with most of those attending, or worked alongside during the war. Charlie dropped a soft kiss to my temple, and I grinned back, carefully leaning my forehead against his.

The mischievous grin grew again on Jacob’s face.

“Even if…” he started, bursting the happy bubble. If he was going to say what I think he was going to say…

“Don’t you dare, Jacob Gareth!” I interrupted to renewed laughter. Mum also seemed unamused. Dad seemed a little oblivious.

Appropriately chastised, he conceded. “Alright, alright. I hope, after the years apart and the adventures you both have been on, you hold onto each other and the happy memories you have together. Wishing much peace, love, joy, and happiness.”

The group sighed in appreciation, before another mischievous smile appeared. “And maybe a niece or nephew sometime soon?” More laughter, and I briefly glanced towards Mrs Weasley, who appeared more than a little teary eyed.

“We’ll see,” I wryly replied, my face a deadpan. There was no need to get her hopes up just yet.

Jacob raised his glass. “To Ellie and Charlie! Hold on Tight!” The rest of the assembled guests raised theirs in return.

“To Ellie and Charlie!” A tapping sound started at a nearby table, before slowly picking up speed at the other tables. I groaned a little. Here I was, regretting teaching the uni crew this little American tradition that I had learned while overseas.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” came the chant, growing larger as it spread. I gave Charlie a sly smirk.

“Indulge me this once, alright?” I asked, before snogging him enthusiastically in front of everyone. He was briefly shocked, before leaning into it, just enough to cause a cheer to rise, the loudest coming from said uni crew.

We broke apart, touching foreheads as we caught our breaths. What a way to start.

[infraaa]

An OC Introduction:

Emelia Tran Ludenburg

Technical Information

Name ~ Emelia Tran Ludenburg

Japanese Signature ~ エメリア

Other names ~ Butterbean (Murphy+Skye) Softie (Poppy+Raymond) Chérie (Marshal) Pumpkin (Judy)

~~~~

Biological Information

Age ~ 20

Sex ~ Female

Pronouns ~ She/Her

Birthday ~ 6 May

Star Sign ~ Taurus

Species ~ Human

Height ~ 5’4” - 163 cm

Weight ~ 133 lbs - 60 kg

Skin Tone ~ Porcelain (It looks blueish grey in the moonlight.)

Eye Color: Magenta/Red (It’s more pink than red.)

Hair Color/Length ~ Black, shoulder length, curly

Body Type/Figure ~ Average Build, Hourglass

Blood Type ~ B+

Ethnicity ~ Asian American (Germanic Descent)

Personality Type ~ Normal/Snooty Mix

Description

Emelia Tran Ludenburg is the representative of the Island of Chronisse, a small, yet developing island located in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. She is described by the villagers that live there to be hardworking, considerate, shy, and just a bit dark. She holds a serious and cunning reputation, similarly to that of a stern mayor. However, she holds those close to her... close. And dear to her are the ones that matter. She strives for perfection at every angle, but can’t help but make a mistake every now and again.

~~~~

Statistics

Island Name ~ Chronisse

Position ~ Representative

Island Evaluation ~ ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (last checked 30.3.21)

Current Inhabitants

Raymond (Arrived via Campsite)

Judy (Found on a mystery island)

Poppy (Arrived via Campsite)

Marina (Found on a mystery island)

Murphy (Arrived via Campsite)

Skye (Found on a mystery island)

Marshal (Arrived via Campsite)

Merengue (Arrived via Campsite)

Axel (Bought an empty plot)

Stitches (Arrived via Campsite)

~~~~

Relationships

*Note ~ Any Animal Crossing works I post portrays the villagers as their gijinkas. Their human forms.

Raymond ~ Friendship Level 6

Raymond arrived last August right after the campsite was established, being the first one to arrive. (Yep. I’m telling the truth. Right before my birthday too.) When Emelia first saw Raymond, she knew who he was right away. How could she not know who he was?! She begged asked Tom to let him live in Chronisse just minutes around maybe a few hours after speaking to him. Although it may seem as though Raymond makes her swoon, it’s rather the opposite. He intimidates her, but that fills her stomach with butterflies. They have similar auras and similar interests in mind. He just melts her little goth heart! On his end, she’s a hardworking human who entertains him nonetheless. He can’t get enough of her, watching her carry on with her everyday business and offering to help at times, which flusters her.

Poppy ~ Friendship Level 6

Poppy arrived in January of 2021 when she went out time traveling, making her the second villager to arrive. Emelia thinks of Poppy like a sister, always there for reassurance and advice. She labels her to be the brains of the island, despite her claiming otherwise. Emelia took her advice on creating LGBT inspired fireworks for the upcoming summer, and she’s thrilled to see them. Emelia, in Poppy’s eyes, is just how she calls her— a softie! Soft and beautiful. She looks up to Emelia, sometimes complimenting her on her work with the island or helping her with nature esque furniture. She remembers on her birthday when she gave her a close line and several tops, including a shirt that was made up of the colors of the lesbian pride flag. She could never thank her enough for that.

Judy ~ Friendship Level 6

Judy was found in a mystery island in October, making her the third to stay. Out of all the girls, Emelia feels as though she can relate to Judy the most. (Minus the bitchiness that exudes from Judy but-) Judy and Emelia share the same fashion sense, which is why she prefers to go shopping with her. What really gets to Judy though is what she can do with Emelia’s emotions. She loves to mess with her and her love admiration for Raymond. So what does she do? She invited Raymond along on ther shopping sprees from time to time. But really, Judy knows Emelia well. She knows she wants to show off. She wants to help her with her confidence, the same way that Emelia does. They’re confidence boots for each other.

Murphy ~ Friendship Level 4

Murphy arrived November using the campsite, the fourth villager to come by. See, Murphy is an older guy. Emelia doesn’t hang around him often, but he’s nice to be around. He gives good advice to her and he helps out around the island without being asked. When she saw that he was interacting well with the other villagers, she investigated him herself. He seemed trustworthy, despite the fact he nags and complains a lot. Raymond got involved with him which really peaked her interest, so she invested more time in him. Murphy likes the fact she’s spunky, but worries for her at times when she overworks herself. He offers her food sometimes and a place to relax when he sees she’s a bit tired or sore. Being a bit of a tsundere, Murphy can’t say he enjoys her company, because he does. Overall, they don’t interact as often as one would prefer, but they do get along.

Skye ~ Friendship Level 5

Skye is the fifth villager, she was found in November on a mystery island. She doesn’t know what attracted her to Skye, but they clicked. Maybe it was her innocent appearance? The combo of chocolate brown and aquamarine? Her friendly yet intimidating nature? No one knows. However, they do get along nicely. Skye almost thinks of Emelia as a good friend, whereas Emelia thinks of her as an older sister figure. She’s got a wolf like personality. She may be calm and aloof, but she can pack a punch if need be. That’s what she likes about her. Skye finds everything that her island’s rep does to be very caring, yet she worries for her at times. She once told her that sometimes she doesn’t seem to understand how hard she works herself and her body, and that it would be a good idea to relax for a while. Take some time for yourself, she said. Nevertheless, Emelia had one goal in mind... she was looking for someone... Skye admired her perseverance but gosh...

Marshal ~ Friendship Level 5

Snow was falling on the night he arrived, the sixth villager to move in. He came around December, just days before Christmas. Upon seeing him, she nearly had a panic attack. She remembered wanting to have an elite island populous. Now was her chance! For months, she had been searching for this man. (For real. I’m telling the truth. This man was exhausting to find and he has the audacity to—) Emelia then made it her personal mission to try and get him over. She succeeded, after a few hours of begging and pleading and bargaining conversation. She treats him and Raymond like kings, and unlike Raymond, Marshal returns her behavior. He drinks his juice and presents himself to be the island’s himbo. She loves him for this. She remembers in New Years Eve when they were both waiting for the clock to run out and he hugged her when the clock ran out. She never felt more flustered in her life. Overall, they treat each other like royalty. Best coffee mates.

Axel ~ Friendship Level 1

A jock...? The seventh villager to arrive in early February. and she can’t stand him already. She thought she could take Kid Cat, which he was fine. But this man? He’s too big and too brooding for her to handle sometimes. She could be just setting a cute little cafe up by her flower gardens, and she would see him and shiver. She doesn’t really like jocks that much. She wishes to find Dom though, but other than him that’s about it. Axel doesn’t really know a lot about her because she never talks to him, but he does find her pretty cute. Small and dainty. When he sees her speak to Raymond or Marshal, he pours because of how “weak” they are compared to him. It’s not that she doesn’t like Axel, it’s just that she feels as though she’s a little too intimidated by him, to an overwhelming degree.

Stitches ~ Friendship Level 4

She loooves Stitches! He came by in Late February, the eighth villager for her to meet. She saw him and felt a little warm on the inside. He warms her heart with his innocent sleepy nature and his baking expertise. A good ol’ mama’s boy! She pats his head and he melts. Stitches looks up to Emelia as though she was a mother duckling. He tries to imitate her sometimes, to which those imitations go completely wrong and she ends up having a good laugh. Emelia however sometimes stops and ponders at how Stitches can be so carefree and laidback. She gets jealous at time to time when it comes to this behavior if his, and sometimes wants to be like him, but she knows she has priorities to fulfill. Until that day comes, she’ll continue to cheer Stitches on from afar, like the good boy he is.

Marina ~ Friendship Level 3

Marina is the ninth villager to call Chronisse home, arriving in early March after being found on a mystery island. She reminded her of Poppy, so she brought her over. Now she started a little group comprised of Skye, Poppy, and now Marina. The normal trio. Her love for the color pink intrigues her yet freaks her out. How much pink does one need? She thinks she’s sweet though, with her cute sweatshirts. Marina finds Emelia to be strong yet kind, and a force to be reckoned with. Although she has to thank her for allowing her to meet Poppy, (refer to my headcanons for that,) she’s about to realize that this is just the beginning of a relationship bound to blossom, if she’s willing to work with Emelia that is.

Merengue ~ Friendship Level 2

Merengue is the tenth villager to show up. She showed up in Mid March. She just met Emelia, so she doesn’t really have a lot to say about her. But when she listens to everyone else minus Axel, she wonders if she’ll believe them. Emelia tries so very hard to appeal to Merengue, however, it may take some time before she can say that she’s her friend. Like Poppy, she was apprehensive at first when meeting Emelia, due to her aura and overall appearance. However, when noticing her softer nature, she began to soften around her just a bit. We’ll just have to let time decide on a true answer. Maybe in time things will turn up.

~~~~

Another OC intro, done. This is my Animal Crossing OC... one of them. I have another one, but I’m nervous about presenting her. Maybe one day after I tweak her up a bit. Until then... ✨😊

[midnightprelude]

Take My Hand

Dorian and Rilienus for @14daysdalovers by @oftachancer​ and I (drawing by meeee)! Read here or on AO3.

The fireworks started before the sun had gone down, bursting over the city in rampant showers of color and booming far and wide across the country. They clattered ram shod over the bells that sang from the High Chantry at sunset. 

Listen to the fireworks, Rilienus had said. Listen. He’d never thought to. In fact, he’d gone so far as to invest in exceptional noise cancelling headphones specifically to not listen to them at various points during the year. One watched fireworks. Admired the flashing lights and patterns. Tutted over the smoke that billowed across the sky as a result of the crackling and fizzling chemical reactions. 

Not for the first time in their acquaintance, Dorian caught himself gazing at Rilienus’ profile, realizing he’d forgotten to breathe at some point. What a marvel he was. What a spectacular, intricate mind hiding inside such a wonderfully sensual form. His whole body was built to be kissed and touched, responsive to the smallest stimuli of breezes or touches, but his sensitivity didn’t end there. Light and sound and the texture of food and the scent of varying trees and even the different kinds of cement that were used in different parts of the city. Dorian had never noticed those details; he’d wandered blithely ignorant through a world that was utterly beset with the fantastical elements that fed Rilienus’ psyche day in and out. 

“You’re staring again.”

“Sorry about that,” Dorian laughed, because what else could he do? How could he explain that Rilienus’ existence sometimes brought him to tears? It was such a strange feeling, being so grateful that this one person existed in the world. Never mind that he existed in close proximity, that he liked Dorian and shared all those wonderful parts of himself with him. Just that he was. 

“You can stare at me whenever you like,” Rilienus chuckled, giving him a sly smirk, crossing his ankles below the park bench and uncrossing them again. “How often do they bathe Val Royeaux in booming sound and sparkling color, the sun catching on the waves in the harbor and turning everything caramel?”

“Like this? Let’s see- there’s Empire day. There’s Satinalia. And the night before First Day.” He quirked a brow. “You’ve been to Empire day in Val Royeaux before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but they’re always a little different,” Rilienus nudged him with his shoulder. “Last year everything was more silver and the year before that wasn’t nearly percussive enough.” He stretched his arms over his head, sighing. “This one is nice. The colors over the water match the sounds and the weather. A more thorough harmony.”

Gods, what must it be like to look out on the world with those eyes and hear it with his gentle, edible ears? “Yes. This one is nice.” Dorian leaned back, peering up at the sky. “The caramel is nice.”

“It matches you, too,” Rilienus added, almost too quietly for him to hear. “Gilded light at dawn and before dusk.”

Like breathing champagne. Like licking the bowl clean after Rilienus had made his spiced pudding. Dorian flexed his hands together, his heart pounding in time to the bursting displays above them. Percussive. He took a breath. “Should we open the wine? Do you think anything can really compare to those jewels we had at the cookout?”

“Kaffas, I hope so,” Rilienus laughed, reaching into his bag to pull out the bottle and a corkscrew. “It’s not at the right temperature, but at least we have proper glasses.” He passed Dorian a glass and peeled off the top of the label from the bottle. “It’s though they were trying to mock us. Do they think the faculty wouldn’t notice?”

“Well,” Dorian considered. “There are those who come prepared. Hennessy in World Religions always comes to these things with a snifter in a velvet bag. But he also wears housecoats in the daylight, so…” He shrugged. “I understand it. It’s less work for the organizers. And they only just finally agreed to get recyclable cups.” He chuckled. “It does make you feel rather like a drunk, though, drinking cheap facsimiles of wine out of cups meant for playing beer pong-” He jolted as a particularly massive explosion of yellow boomed over their heads. “Is this one percussive enough?”

“Absolutely,” Rilienus grinned sharply, dragging the cork from the bottle with a soft pop. “A nice range. Set your teeth on edge. A visceral experience.” He poured a sip of wine in Dorian’s glass. “Is the vintage to your liking, my dear sir?”

Dorian tilted the glass, lifting it to watch the fireworks sizzle through the liquid. He sniffed. He sipped. He couldn’t have said, if pressed, what the scent was, nor the particular notes, nor whether it was objectively a particularly eventful wine. He could have described in detail the way Rilienus’ eyes crinkled in amusement and the way his lips curved just so - from smile to smirk to sideways sweetness like the setting sun. “Delectable,” he murmured, meaning it, and held his glass out for more. “Perfectly uncarbonated. Thank you. I hope you’ll find it pleasing as well.”

“What a relief,” Rilienus hummed, splashing more wine into Dorian’s glass before filling his own, sipping and sighing. “Ah, yes. All is once again as it should be.”

“It is.” Dorian tapped his glass to Rilienus’ lightly. “Good wine and good company.” He took a deep breath, letting his second sip linger on his tongue. “‘Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine; or leave a kiss but in the cup, and I’ll not look for wine.’”

Rilienus exhaled softly beside him, low and shaky. “I haven’t heard that one before. It’s-“ His eyes glittered with the reflection of exploding, sparkling stars. “Apt. I like it. It’s-“ He hummed a little tune, joyful, but with a hint of longing. “It’s right, too.”

“Is it?” Dorian ducked his head, grinning foolishly. “I was afraid it might be too on the nose.”

“Sometimes on the nose suits quite well,” Rilienus chuckled, sipping from his glass. His fingers tapped out a rhythm on the seat of the bench between them. “I can say it now: I’m officially glad I joined you this afternoon. I’m not certain how you managed to make such an event palatable, let alone somewhat enjoyable.”

“Ah.” Dorian could feel his joy in his toes. “Hypnotism and drugs, mostly.”

“Is that it?” Rilienus lifted a brow. “You’ve drugged me? Hypnotized me to feel delight at the sound of your voice?”

At the sound of his voice- The warmth rushed up from his toes to vibrate through his chest at the next collection of fireworks. “Reciprocal hypnotism. Very tricky.”

“Reciprocal?” Rilienus tutted. “No, no. I worked very hard to make you delight in me. Have you already forgotten this morning?” He turned, smirking. “Will you need a reminder when we return to walls and ceilings?”

“This morning,” he hummed, hiding his grin behind his glass. “This morning. Nnn…. no. Not ringing any bells. All I remember is a kaleidoscope of light and sound and percussion… Perhaps the fireworks began early.”

“That they did,” Rilienus snorted. There were people about, but it was too dark to make out their features, save for the quick flashes of light that illuminated them all briefly before fading again. A little hilltop in the park full of benches, families and couples, but they were easy to forget with Rilienus beside him. “Alright, then, it seems we need a repeat in order to leave a more lasting impression.”

“It seems we do.” Dorian shut his eyes, listening to the sounds of the booms in the distance, the cracks and fizzles, the oohs and aahs from others, all eyes on a sky full of wonders. He dropped his fingers towards the tapping on the bench, letting his hand rest in the path of the percussion as he listened to the Orlesian anthem bellow from a barge on the sea. “I’ve never really listened to them before,” he sighed. “Without the lights, they almost sound sad.”

Rilienus’ fingers stopped moving as soon as they contacted Dorian’s. There was a moment of hesitation that dragged on for an eternity, before finally Rilienus exhaled and set his hand on top of Dorian’s, stroking the side of Dorian’s hand with his thumb. “It does sound a bit melancholy, doesn’t it?” His voice was nearly drowned out by the crashing explosions. “The way the echoes fade away… There are some old symphonies that have cannons written into their scores. This is one such, actually, though the fireworks aren’t keeping a very good tempo.”

Dorian blinked rapidly, staring down to where Rilienus touched his fingers. Tempo? Tempo? His heart was racing like a track full of horses. A glancing touch, he’d thought. Something to stem the tide, to fill the space between them. His eyes burned with unshed tears. He looked up, finding eyes that were the color of wondrous poppies in a field of verdant growth. “Ril,” he whispered, helpless. “I love you.”

Rilienus closed his eyes, pressing his lips together, silent among the applause and clatter as the finale began. Exhaled slow, deep, painstaking breaths, but he kept holding Dorian’s hand, feather light touches keeping time to the crash of symbols over the loudspeaker. 

He didn’t open them again until the fireworks stilled, smoke filling the night air, crowds of people shifting, beginning to mill about the gardens of the park, on their way back to their merry little lives. 

Rilienus still held his hand, only the pulse over his fingers, the twitch of his thumb, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest signaling that he was more than a statue carved to sit upon the bench ad infinitum. 

And when the echoes of voices drifted into the evening, dissipated like the lights and smoke, did Rilienus meet his gaze and with the barest of breaths whisper, “I love you, too.”

Dorian smiled, catching a fallen tear from his lips with his tongue, his baited breath returning in a rush that left him light-headed. “They were good this year, I think,” he murmured, hearing his pulse in his voice. “Better than I’ve seen. Definitely better than I’ve heard.”

“The best I’ve had the privilege to enjoy,” Rilienus whispered, squeezing his fingers. “Dorian?”

“Hm?”

Rilienus smiled slightly, his eyes fractal emeralds. “You’ve something on your cheek.”

Dorian barked a laugh. “You’re a menace; do you know that?”

“I do,” Rilienus glanced down at their hands. “And yet you’re still here. Wonder of wonders.”

“We were having a nice confounding, miraculous moment, you realize.”

“Can’t possibly have one of those with your lines marred,” Rilienus hummed. He reached up to brush away the drops that caught in Dorian’s skin, smiling as he poured them each another glass of wine and taking his hand again, the only sounds those of lapping water, distant traffic, and evening songbirds. “I do so appreciate your symmetry. Almost as much as I enjoy being the one to set it askew.”

Dorian sniffed back a renewed set of happy tears, memorizing every angle of his face and the way his eyes caught the smoked starlight. “Am I suitably symmetrical to your tastes?” he asked, sipping from his glass to clear the clog from his throat. 

“I’m not sure there is a single part of you that isn’t to my taste, Dorian,” Rilienus admitted quietly, cradling his wine. “It’s rather mortifying, that realization.”

“Mortifying?” he repeated softly. “I find the experience rather vivifying.”

“Mortifying thing, living,” Rilienus raised his brows. “Being seen. It takes a bit of adjustment.”

Adjustment. Dorian studied him curiously, thinking of the panic attacks that had plagued him well after he’d made his way to Val Royeaux and the stuttering nerves blended with revelation he felt each time he touched Rilienus in even the most innocuous ways in the daylight. And now it was dark and there was the scent of burned revelry in the air and the lap of the sea against the harbor… and Rilienus was holding his hand. Not in sunlight, but moon and starlight, without walls and ceiling to protect them. High diving. Free falling. Dorian carefully turned his hand, tangling their fingers together; palm to palm. “It is,” he agreed quietly. “I’m very glad to be seen by you.”

He felt a subtle shiver go up Rilienus’ arm as he squeezed his hand lightly. “Likewise,” Rilienus breathed, closing his eyes again. “If I’m to be seen by anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

“Thank you,” Dorian murmured, watching his exhales puff against his scruff. “For allowing me to. For today. For taking my hand.”

“Thank you,” Rilienus stared out over the harbor, the smallest hint of a smile curling his lips, “for helping me realize I could.”

[heartbreak-of-a-marauder]

Rogue (2)

Title: The Vanishing Girl

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Summary: Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

Words: 2020

Note: Thank you to everyone for the immense amount of love for the first part! It blew me away! The taglist is still open, the previous part is linked below:

Part One 

y/n = your name  ●  y/e/c = your eye colour  ●  y/h/c = your hair colour

<- 2 ->

~*~*~*~*~

Age 15

Fireworks explode overhead, igniting the inky black sky in vibrant patterns of blues, pinks, reds, greens, golds and white. You sit transfixed by their beauty. The detonation created a rumble deep within your chest, some fireworks boom so loud you nearly cover your ears while others fizz as they sparkle. The true majesty of Asgard seems to come alive in the brief moments of light, the water beneath reflects each one perfectly, carrying the colour across its gentle ripples. A tincture of gunpowder travels on the slight breeze, tickling your nose.

Your knees begin to ache, complaining that you’ve been knelt on the scarcely padded window seat for too long. The stone of the windowsill is rough beneath your palms as you wiggle from side to side attempting to find a more comfortable position, your eyes never leave the fantastic display. The fireworks would happen twice a year without fail, and for as long as you could remember, you had sat and watched them. You had no idea why they happened but that never stopped you from looking forward to them.

A myriad of green fireworks cut through the night, dimming the stars, making them seem like they were only a backdrop made to enhance the brilliance of colours. They curved in streaks and lines of green, gold and white growing wider with each blast. A final crescendo echoes deafeningly across Asgard as the display reaches its climax, and just as soon as they had illuminated the sky, they fade to blackness leaving a blanket of smoke to descend on the city below.

You rest back on your heels feeling the way your heart hammered in your chest. Asgard comes back into focus through the smoke, lanterns create a soft glow in the night. From your window seat, you can see the main courtyard glowed brighter than the rest, the ringing in your ears takes a few minutes to dissipate, when it does you’re able to hear the music and laughter that drift from there. They were having a celebration of sorts, glancing to the sky again you wonder if that’s why there were fireworks.

The satin of your dress is creased and your legs are stiff and you manoeuvre off the window seat. Closing your eyes you try and focus on the sound of the gathering. You had never been invited to an occasion like that, they sounded like they were having fun.

Your steps are quiet at you shuffle back towards the workbench, the wood of the stool creaks beneath you as you settle back into your seat. An air of melancholy settles around you as you resume your work. Your mothers’ pestle and mortar sit abandoned across from you, no doubt she had gone to gather more ingredients for the remedy she had been working on. You finger the sprigs of dried lavender that lay forgotten beside you, you had no desire to continue to work on your vial of soothing. Despite having moved away from the window, the sounds of revelry still reached you, calling to you, making you less willing to work.

The music seemed to whisper your name, distracting you further. Reopening your recipe book, you flick through the aged pages, perhaps having the instructions in front of you would make you concentrate on something different. It didn’t matter that you had made hundreds of vials of soothing before, nor did it matter that you knew the recipe by heart, it gave your brain something else to do than dream up fantasies of what the party would be like.

Despite having the book in front of you, images of finely crafted dress swishing as their wearers danced continued to preoccupy your mind, so much so you hadn’t noticed your mother return.

You’re brought from your musings by the sound of your mothers’ pestle clattering against the table. Would she let you go if you asked? You chewed your lips as you thought, it didn’t take you long to arrive at the solid conclusion of ‘no’. Why should this occasion have a different outcome to any of the other times you had asked. You thumb absently through the pages, already hearing the responses your mother would give you.

She had given you an almighty row after you had met the prince a few years ago. You scowl at the memory. The punishment had never matched the act. How were you supposed to know one of the princes of Asgard would be wandering the corridors at that very moment? No supper that night and bed at sunset for two weeks definitely made a mountain out of a molehill.

Your frown lessens as you focus on the page you had landed on. ‘Draught of Sleep’. Your eyes dart nervously between your mother and the page as an idea pops into your head. Scanning the ingredients list you realise you had most of them out already. The only thing missing was poppy seed extract, but you knew exactly which cupboard and shelf it was kept on. It was risky and incredibly reckless to even be considering this, but what mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her?

Right?

“I’m going to make some tea, would you like some mother?” Already you can feel how sweaty your palms are.

“I’d love some, thank you, dear,” Looking up from her work, she casts you a warm smile. You try to return it in kind but the feeling of guilt welling up inside you dampened it.

Standing you palm the necessary ingredients off the table, hoping your mother wouldn’t notice. When you reached the tea set, you hastily shove the ingredients you had been carrying into the drawstring tea bag. You sidestep to the cabinet beside you, flicking away the buds of lavender that had stuck to your palm. Your eyes quickly scan the jars that sat unprotected on its shelves, you take a cautionary look over your shoulder at your mother before reaching for the one you needed.

Returning to the tea set, you carefully add 5 drops of the poppy seed extract, counting each straw-coloured droplet as it hit the bottom of your mothers cup. Tendrils of stream curl upwards as you pour generous amounts of hot water into each one, making sure to thoroughly soak the herbs and flowers you had added to your mother’s cup.

‘Here goes nothing’.

It had taken ingesting the entire brew before your mother finally succumbed to sleep. She slept hunched over, her head touching the table. Guilt and excitement began to bubble in your chest as you softly drape a blanket over her shoulders. The drought had worked wonderfully, and you finally got your chance to go to the party. But you did not enjoy deceiving your mother like this.

You give yourself a customary once over check before heading out of your chambers. Unsure of the exact way to go, you follow the sounds of revelry and smells of rich food and perfume.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Everyone around you was having such an amazing time. The conversations and music were so loud around you it made your skin tingle. Laughter rang out from somewhere; you could barely hear it over the roar of chatter. You felt giddy and hot. You had expected polite conversation, wine and those silly little appetisers carried around on trays, but what you had found was beyond what you could think up.

Since arriving you had learned this was, in fact, a party celebrating the 18th birthday of Prince Loki. It was a fitting celebration for his entrance into manhood.

You danced lazily through the corridors of the palace. Your blood was still alive with music and more than one goblet of wine. Already, you were wishing you could stay for longer. You would have a difficult time removing the grin from your face. Twirling on your toes once more, your eyes following the hem of your skirts as they whirl around you.

“Y/n?” Someone asks, making you teeter mid-turn; off-balance.

Wildly you reach out grabbing nothing but air, you were going to fall and create a scene. They knew your name. The thought assaults you as you land in a heap on the floor. The cold of the tiles seeps through your skin and into your veins. There were very few on Asgard who knew you, those who did also knew your mother.

‘She’ll skin me alive’, you think, oblivious to the hand being extended down to you.

“Y/n, are you alright?” The voice asks again, chuckling.

Clenching your jaw, you prepare your meanest gaze to direct at them but stop when you see who stood before you.

Loki.

Everything about him was almost the same. His dark hair had grown, tucked away behind his ears. The timeless beauty of his pale complexion made his eyes appear more vibrant, they twinkled with something more, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You grin to yourself, noticing he still wore his characteristic green though his chest and shoulders were broader now. He definitely wasn’t a little boy anymore.

“I- Yes, I'm… How are you?” You ramble awkwardly, only making him grin more.

“Well, I must admit I’m a little surprised,” His larger hand envelops yours as he tugs you to stand. “You disappear for three years, only for me to find you dancing around the corridors,”

You feel your face begin to flame.

“Where have you been?” He mutters softly, asking himself more than you.

“It’s late, I must be getting home,” Reluctantly you slip your hand from his, taking a few retreating steps.

“Wait!” He frowns at your avoidance, catching up to you in one large stride.

“Yes, your highness?”    

“Where are you going?”

“Home?” You ask in confusion, pointing behind you.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s my birthday, stay a while!” He gestures with open arms.

“I really must be getting back,” You grimace. “I hope your birthday wish comes true, your highness,” You wave before setting off again, you had stayed longer than intended and were anxious to get back before your mother awoke.

“Obviously it can’t,” Loki calls down the corridor to you, you fight the urge to turn around and ask why. “Because you’re leaving,”

You whirl around to face him, your mouth opening and closing as you floundered. Why were you his wish? He was a prince who could have anything, surely, he was more imaginative than that.

“Because I’m leaving?” You repeat dumbly.

“You’re a mystery y/n. The vanishing girl, no one knows you and yet here you are,” he cocks his head to the side observing you.

“I’ll disappear forever if you do not let me leave,” You offer, hoping to throw Loki off. You suppress a shudder realising that threat might become a reality if you were ever caught. Goodness knows what your mother would have in store for you.

“Then make me a promise… promise me you’ll let me solve this mystery, one day, y/n,”

“Okay, deal,” you thrust forward your fisted hand with your pinky extended. Loki stares at it for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“To easily broken,” he states, shaking his head.

You sigh harshly through your nose. Your hands cover your face, you didn’t have time for this. Clasping them against your chest a small cynical voice tells you that yes, now is a good time to start praying. You feel the cool surface of your Celtic knot pendant brush against your thumbs, looking down, an idea pops into your head.

Gripping the necklace in your hand you pull, releasing the catch. Gathering it in your palm you offer it towards the prince.

“Here, something physical, a tangible promise,”

“One day?” Loki asks, taking the necklace from you.

“One day,” you repeat before slipping away.

As you round the corner you holler a quick ‘happy birthday’. Neither of you knew when that would be, but you doubted it would be soon, for as thrilling as tonight’s little excursion had been, you didn’t feel bold enough to attempt it again.

Yet.    

~*~*~*~*~

TAGLIST: @hellethil @icunee @bloatedandlonly @khadineberry @abrunettefangirlnerd @whothehellsbucky @dark-night-sky-99 @nonsensicalobsessions @batsdothings

[writing-the-end]

WS Chapter 52- Dragon’s Nest

Previous Chapter

Masterpost

Yinz better be seeing this around 2015 wednesday, lets hope this whole scheduling thing, cause I aint pullin out my laptop in the middle of an AJR concert we’re already planning weird ass shit for our car.One more cute chapter before endgame! I’m so excited for you all to finally see what we’ve been hinting at for months!

Also can you tell that i really like thunderstorms and associate dragons with lightning?

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland​

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block

“Avon, Jessie caught a silverfish again.” Ecto holds the dragonet up, limbs dangling in the air as she snaps her ivory dagger teeth into the bug. They’ve set up a small camp, more permanent than any of their other night encampments. A little home sheltering them from the elements, mostly built by Red. He’s a good builder, the home including a small flower garden and layered roofing. He had limited materials, but it’s still rustic and cute.

“I thought she grew out of chasing those when I showed her how to swim?” Red questions, trying to pull the spiky bug out of the baby’s mouth. But before he can grab it, Jessie swallows. 

“Once she gets big enough, she’ll stop chasing them.” Avon waves it off, plucking Jessie free. She clambers onto Avon’s shoulder, small claws gripping into the leather pauldron to hold on. “Jessie, wouldn’t you rather have some rabbit?” 

The baby chirps and flaps her wings, but never truly attempts to take off. She wiggles her tail, ears pricking up and listening to the forest around her. Listening for food. Ecto tugs on Jessie’s wing, the thin black membrane still soft and new. “When will she learn to fly? I thought she’d learn by now.” 

“We should teach her!” Red picks a flower, offering the poppy to Jessie. The dragonet snaps at the flower, before lightly pawing the petals. She takes a delicate hold of the gift from Red, curling up on Avon’s shoulder and watching the flower between her paws. “How...how do you teach a dragon to fly?”

“For me, it was years of trial and error. And jumping off roofs.” Avon shivers as she remembers her tumbles. 

“Isn’t being underwater just like flying?” Ecto questions. 

“That’s space, and no.” Avon picks up sticks, crafting a campfire to make their lunch. They’ve been working hard on setting up defenses, figuring out a plan. First, they’ll prepare the grounds for the upcoming final fight. Mapping out bottlenecks, traps, and places where the wanderer’s affinities can shine through. After, they’ll gather their army. “Maybe I can take her flying with me on patrol one day.” 

“Or I can stack up a cactus pillar, and she can jump and learn to glide!” Ecto’s eyes glimmer at the chance to build another monolith. 

“We can focus on teaching her after we survive this. We need to get back to work- it’s going to storm later.” Avon tosses cooked porkchops to her friends. “How’re the sand traps going, Ecto?” 

“It feels good to have grains stuck under my nails again.” She grins, pulling off her boot and dumping half the desert out of her shoe. 

“Couldn’t you just use a shovel?” Red questions, tilting his head. Wouldn’t it take longer for Ecto to use her hands, even with the time spent making shovels. 

“Why would I waste time on a shovel when my hands work just as well?” Ecto laughs, biting into her meal. Red and Avon chuckle, shaking their heads. Of course, what an Ecto response. Ecto’s logic is sound, if a bit strange. But they love her weird, wacky, wonderful ideas. “I’ve been collecting cacti to put at the bottom of the pitfalls. If the hellspawns survive the drop, the cactus will definitely take care of them.”

Avon nods, giving a bite of the cooked meat to the snappy mouth at her neck, feeling Jessie’s wings flutter in her hair. But Red is less excited about the news. She knows that the hellspawns won’t hesitate to kill them. That they’d show no mercy. But Red just isn’t the killing type. She’s not a fighter like Ecto and Avon. They tried talking to them, and their kindness was only met with violence. 

But maybe actions speak louder than words? “Do we have to kill them? Can’t we just...I dunno, stop them?” 

Avon grimaces, setting Jessie on the ground. “We talked about this before, Red…” 

“I know,” Red turns his head away, watching the rolling storm clouds build over the ocean in the distance. “I just want everyone to be happy. You don’t think there’s any way we can show them that being open and accepting would change their mind?”

“I don’t think they can be shown that. They're too far gone.” Ecto sets her hand on Red’s shoulder, trying to comfort the crestfallen kipling. “They’re our enemies.” 

“You and Avon were enemies. You two always tussled when we first met. What changed that?” Avon and Ecto look at each other, jaws slack. “You two got to know each other. Opened up, and were kind. Can’t we at least try to show them that? Maybe not with words, but maybe...if we don’t kill them, just defeat them and show them how great difference is, we can make things better for everyone.” 

Red watches both their faces. Avon bites her lip, the twinge of revenge still in her eyes. She wants to get justice for Jeane’s death. But Red’s point was compelling. Ecto was stern in her gaze, but she spoke up first. “Why don’t we compromise… we’ll try to defeat them, try to show them kindness. I won’t make the traps deadly- if they choose not to fight, if they see sense and find kindness like you hope, we can help them. But… some may be beyond talking to. They won’t agree no matter what.” 

“That… I think that’s a good idea.” Red nods. He’s taking the unusual path this time, that Ecto usually takes. But he’s too empathetic. Maybe scaring the hellspawns, beating them and then opening up to them like Ecto and Avon did will lead to decreased tensions. He saw doubt in Nova’s eyes, pause in Endo’s voice. There is a chance to redeem them. But he knows that an endless cycle of battle, like the tides berating the shore, will only follow all out war. 

The wanderers go back to work, despite the angry storm clouds creeping up on them. Pools of water appear across the landscape, small chests full of food, potions, and armor hidden among the grass, and simple traps are set up by Ecto and Red. Avon hovers above, taking notes on a map between her work digging trenches and barriers. 

Each wanderer takes turns caring for Jessie. If there’s one thing the three have discovered, it’s that Jessie inherited her mother’s proclivity towards blankets. Stealing sheets from their beds, Avon’s cloak while it’s tossed aside, or even Ecto’s scarves from right off her neck, Jessie will drag the massive fabric between her legs, hobbling into a little nest built in the corner of the cabin and burying herself until it’s just chitters and chirps and a peek of glowing purple eyes to find the infant. Her wings flap and flutter, never truly taking her off the ground. But sometimes she gets close, especially when Ecto tosses her in the air, only to catch her on the way down, or while mimicking Avon’s wings. 

Jessie may not have Jeane, but she does have the wanderers. Red, and all his cooking and babysitting skills. Ecto, wild one that is intent on seeing Jessie fly and teach her survival. And Avon, the closest thing to another dragon she has. Sometimes, her chitters almost sound like draconic words. But it’s still baby talk. She busies herself playing with just about anything, whether it’s hunting rabbits and silverfish, or swimming in the pools that Red has constructed. 

The work, preparing the field and babysitting the rambunctious dragonet, is only interrupted by the storm. A heavy downpour of rain sends the wanderers and baby dragon under the safety of the awning before the cabin. Red sits, quite proud of his work keeping them dry. Jessie curls up beside Avon, watching her first rainshower with pricked ears and curious eyes. Her wings flutter, spreading out as a few drops fall on her wings. 

Lightning streaks across the sky, tendrils of energy reaching out, before sky connects to ground and a flashing channel of light careens from the roiling clouds to the field below. Before the lightning has dissipated, the thunder sweeps across the terrain. A loud snapping crash, of air suddenly expanding and contracting at the heat of the lightning. Colliding and crushing, sweeping into the empty air with the scent of fresh ozone.

Even for the wanderers, who enjoy nature's light show, the thunder rocks their bodies. But it’s Jessie’s first storm, her first thunder clap. Her ears flatten against her head, eyes wide and staring in the direction of the bolt. She scrabbles back, hiding beneath the safety of Avon's wing. 

She's shaking. Red presses his lips together, before scooting to Avon’s side. Ecto offers a hand, luring Jessie from her hiding spot. Jessie settles into Ecto’s lap, shaking like a leaf as Red attempts to calm her down. "I know, storms can be scary. They're so strong, so wild. I used to be afraid of storms too. I hated how loud they were.

"But when I met Selene, she told me how incredible lightning really is." Red leans close to Jessie, and all of them settle in for another story woven by him. "She showed me how to see the beauty in the danger, respect the strength. Nature's own fireworks. We'd sit and watch the storms together, and I learned to love the sound of thunder. Bringing energy to the world."

Avon smiles, leaning back. Watching another forking stretch claw along the sky. It doesn't find ground, and fades to a soft rumble. "There was a book I read once, from the stronghold. Alchemists and sorcerers believe that lightning is the key to life. The spark that started all this. A catalyst to every living thing, ever villager and dragon, cactus and guardian."

"So lightning is like our mother." Ecto breathes, eyes following the flash channel. "Everything started with one lightning bolt."

Thunder crashes, rumbling against their bones and shaking the trees. But Jessie isn't scared this time. She crawls out of Ecto's lap, away from the pets and comfort. Grey wings stay tucked close, far from being caught by the wild wind. Her tail drags against the grass, looping around her as she sits. With a tilt of the head, Jessie gazes at the lightning storm. Watches with curious, nervous eyes as lightning ignites a tree. The rain extinguished it. 

And when the thunder rolls along, Jessie feels the excitement of life that the wanderers share.

[captainkippen]

A tyrus swimming one shot??

SEND ME FIC PROMPTS

When TJ stepped outside that morning he thought the sky might never have been as blue as it was before. The day was sweltering, sun beating down on the world and creating heat waves that made the pavement ahead all wavy. He was grateful he didn’t have to walk anywhere, but even for the five minutes that he was perched on the porch to wait for the others to pick him up were nearly unbearable.

They head down to the lake in the beat up old pickup truck that Jonah had received for his birthday that year. It always made TJ laugh when he heard it coming, it was so loud and cranky you knew it was on its way before it was even in sight. He had no idea why anyone thought it was a good idea to have such a big truck in Shadyside, but it made him smile. They’d all hop into the back and hope they didn’t get pulled over because on days like this it just made more sense to carpool. Since the group was pretty big Walker would drive too. He’d go pick up Amber, Iris and Gus because as much as they all loved the truck they weren’t completely willing to die by cramming everyone in the back. Reed and Lester would take their bikes down because they could - TJ probably would have too if it weren’t for the excited way Cyrus looked at him when they were making plans.

It was the Fourth of July and the whole group planned to spend the day down by the water. They’d been planning it for a couple of months now, TJ knew for a fact that Cyrus had been stockpiling bags of marshmallows for the campfire, and it was all Buffy had been able to talk about the past few days. He’d been pretty excited himself but work after school and picking up extra credit was pretty exhausting so he hadn’t had much time to think about it. However, when Jonah pulled into the driveway he pushed all stressful thoughts from his mind and decided that today was a day for three things only; sunbathing, swimming, and copious amounts of junk food.

Obviously, they weren’t the only ones with similar plans, because when they arrived at the side of the was packed with cars. Fortunately, they’d anticipated that, and they surpassed the cluttered side of the lake and drove around to the side they knew would be less crowded. Most people wouldn’t bother going where they were because there weren’t toilets, but Reed had valiantly volunteered lifts around to the bathrooms when the girls needed them.

When they all tumbled out of the truck it wasn’t long before the others pulled up behind them. TJ watched in amusement as Marty and Lester both immediately stripped off their shirts and flopped down on the grass. At some point, somebody dug out a set of speakers and filled the air with poppy summer tunes. Cyrus laid out a blanket carefully and patted the spot next to him, indicating for TJ to sit down. He dug out the sunscreen instantly.

“I already put some on before we left,” TJ complained.

“Skin cancer is no joke,” Cyrus said seriously. “Shirt off, please.”

He sighed and made a show of rolling his eyes but did as he was told while the others snickered at them in the background.

“It’s like he’s your mom,” Reed laughed, then laughed harder when TJ flipped him off. He could pretend to be annoyed all he liked, but he had to admit it secretly made him happy to be cared about so much. Cyrus went through the same routine as nearly everyone else except Iris, who was just as prepared as him and lecturing the girls about taking care of themselves and didn’t relax until everyone was suitably protected and armed with a fresh bottle of water.

The afternoon stretched on for what felt like forever. They slipped in and out of the water, chicken fighting and doing handstands in the shallower part, then swimming out to see how far they could get before someone gave in and turned around. It was maybe the most fun he’d ever had in his life. It felt like a summer straight from the movies.

At one point TJ fell asleep only to be woken up half an hour later by Amber armed with glitter and nail polish. He sighed and let her paint his fingernails red, blue and white so he could “get in the spirit of the holiday”, stretching back and listening to Cyrus and Iris passionately discuss Komodo dragons.

When darkness started to fall late in the evening they pulled on extra layers of clothes (though they weren’t needed too much it was still warm) and dug out the blankets. Watching Jonah and Reed argue over how to start a fire, only for Iris to end up doing it instead, was maybe the funniest thing he’d witnessed all week. Cyrus draped an extra blanket around d his and TJ’s shoulders and leaned into his side, allowing TJ to slip an arm around his waist. They stayed like that as they roasted marshmallows. It was inevitable that Jonah would pull out his guitar but when he did TJ groaned teasingly. Marty prodded him until he agreed to play a shaky version of the national anthem, the others singing along as terribly as they could, and then Reed caused a fuss by announcing he’d brought fireworks.

Evidently, that was the moment Cyrus decided it was best to make a break for it. He leaned in and spoke low into TJ’s ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“You wanna go for a walk?”

TJ nodded and stood, holding a hand out to pull Cyrus up. He didn’t let go as they walked away. He could feel Buffy and Andi’s eyes on them as they went, but the rest of the group was distracted by the chaos of the fireworks. It would be at least half an hour before they had them all set up and ready to go, probably under the watchful eye of a concerned Walker. He chuckled to himself. He loved his friends but boy were they idiots sometimes.

He and Cyrus silently weaved their way through the thickening trees slowly, fingers still entwined, listening to the crickets chirp. Around them fireflies faded in and out of visibility, giving the world an almost magical atmosphere. Eventually, they came to another edge of the water. They could see the lake stretching out before them, lights flickering on the other side where other people had set up their own fires and barbecues. There was still a slight glow of light on the horizon from where the sun hadn’t completely finished its descent, but that hasn’t stopped the stars from starting to make an appearance.

“Nice night,” TJ commented inanely. Cyrus had been unusually quiet this evening. It seemed as though he may have been a little lost in his own head. TJ wondered what he was thinking about that had captured his attention so firmly.

Cyrus hummed in agreement, then dropped TJ’s hand abruptly and tugged his shirt over his head.

He stared at him, baffled. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going swimming,” Cyrus said simply, pulling off his shoes next. “You coming?”

“You’re insane,” he replied, shaking his head, but started stripping off himself and followed Cyrus into the water.

It has cooled down significantly since the sun had gone down, but it wasn’t cold enough to make TJ regret all his life choices yet so he took it as a win. The two of them swam lazily out too a deeper part of the lake and then stopped, flipping over to float on their backs. TJ stared up at the stat-dotted sky. In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of raucous laughter and music playing. The crickets continued to chirp and the waves lapped gently at the shore. The whole night felt so serene. It was so beautiful. He was lucky to be alive.

He startled when he felt something touch his hand, turning his head to find Cyrus watching him with his own hand stretched out. TJ smiled and entwined their fingers once again.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m great,” Cyrus replied, shutting his eyes and leaning his head back. It didn’t sound like he was lying but there was an edge of something that TJ couldn’t identify to his voice. The thought of something troubling Cyrus troubled him, so he decided to distract him from his thoughts.

SPLASH!

Cyrus made an outraged noise, turning himself upright and wiping at his face. He huffed as TJ laughed.

“Trust you to ruin a nice moment,” he said accusingly, before splashing him right back.

It devolved fast from there. They flicked water at one another, wrestling rambunctiously and trying (maybe failing a little) not to choke on half the lake as they went. By the time they’d tired themselves out TJ’s sides were sore from laughter and he was completely out of breath. Around Cyrus, he found that was often the case. Nobody else brought him quite as much joy.

He didn’t realise how close their faces were together until he finished blinking water out from his eyes. They were only inches apart, Cyrus still clutching his shoulders, legs anchored around his waist.

“So I’ve been doing some thinking,” Cyrus said.

“A dangerous pastime.”

He flickered TJ on the ear and laughed. “Shut up.”

“Sorry, sorry. So you’ve been doing some thinking?”

He nodded. “About us.”

“Us?” TJ said in surprised.

The way Cyrus talked was like he was laying out a business proposal. It was almost endearing. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about us. We spend almost every day together, I know you like the back of my own hand and I know you know me just as well, and I realised the other day that with anyone else that would probably bother me because like… personal space, y’know? But with you it doesn’t.”

“So…”

“So I came to the conclusion I’m in love with you.”

For a moment the world stopped. TJ seriously considered the idea that maybe he’d drowned while they were wrestling and this is some weird side effect of the afterlife.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with you,” Cyrus stated clearly.

Huh. There was no way that he could really misinterpret that. He didn’t know how to respond. It felt a little like his body and brain had shut down. All he could do was stare at Cyrus with his mouth gaping open like a fish.

The thing was… he’d been in love with Cyrus since they were fourteen years old. This as a fact he’d come to accept, paired with the obvious fact that Cyrus didn’t feel the same way. Apparently, he’d been wrong about that.

“Can you please say something?” Cyrus asked, a hint of worry to his voice. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just thought I should let you know.”

There they were floating in a lake, the world around them suspended in time, and Cyrus Goodman was in love with TJ Kippen. A brief flash of annoyance hit him, did this mean that he could’ve been kissing Cyrus this entire goddamn time? Then that feeling gave way to one of excitement and realisation.

“Oh my God,” he said. “Oh my God. Of course, I feel the same way. I’ve been in love with you for years.”

“You have?!”

“Yes,” TJ rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’re the last to find out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Before he could say anything else, Cyrus was pressing their lips together. The kiss was tentative and unnecessarily wet from the lake water but somehow it still managed to be perfect. Above them, fireworks exploded to life filling the sky with thousands of colours. They looked up and laughed. It was the perfect day.

[millimallow]

#2- poppies and cornflowers

the second portion of the fantasy writing anthology i’m working on, focusing on the plainslands.

the ceremony begins at three. no tale of missing persons and dead birds could have deterred me from that moment; my prize after years of work and study. my position was a great burden on me- it meant wandering through sunbitten fields or waterlogged marshes should it be required of me- but i had no hesitation to show, none left in my body. i was ready. and i said it to myself in my mind until the words began to mean nothing anymore: the ceremony begins at three. i was to meet everyone there, and i could not be a minute late.

the story behind the ceremony began what is now perhaps ten years ago. when i had left my education, a rural school located several miles from our lonely village, there had been a celebration in my family. we sat around the oak dining table, next to the fireplace, and covered it with the worn green-with-gold-trim cloth which had been given to my parents as a wedding gift, and there we ate wild-caught pheasant and drank heady molasses beer until my uncle askram could not walk properly. as we lifted his body to the rocking chair to let him rest, all the while his mouth foaming and spitting out garbled sound, my mother turned to me and began to speak.

“you’re going to have to find some work soon.” it was the line i had dreaded hearing. educating me had been a novel idea in the first place, as i was the only child and my father eagerly awaited someone who would assist him with the leatherwork, but my grandparents had insisted on it. now it was over there was not much i could do to hide from this new inevitability. it was not a trade school; as such i had no vital crafting skill that i could put to use. and though i fished in my spare time my mother would often insist that the river dwellers were dirty types, and to avoid them. learning magic was not an option, nor could i leave for the next town over to employ my arithmetic skills. they were also “dirty people” in the town.

“i don’t really know what to do.” askram was mostly limp by this point, yet finally setting him down was a great weight off my shoulders. all i could do was be honest with her about how i felt, regardless of her response.

“you should do what your father does and make leather with him” she responded to me curtly.

“but i don’t know how to make leather.” she tutted in response.

“it’s in your blood, isn’t it? or was all your blood washed out by some teacher up in that shack of yours.” her comment angered me, but i kept my mouth shut and tried to step silently towards the table up until when i heard her voice ring out from behind me.

“did you hear that, everyone? sajorie doesn’t know what she’s going to do for work.” i froze in my tracks, feet pausing before i could tiptoe to the next floorboard. “what a little genius she’s turned out to be!” clearly she had attracted some attention with her words, as everyone else in the house excluding askram had turned to look at her once more except me. my grandfather- my mother’s father, with his wife and my grandmother having passed a few years earlier- sighed and shook his head in response.

“she’s just finished, mirice. give her today for a celebration, why don’t you?”

“because i woke up at six to milk the goats at five years younger than her and didn’t complain for a minute.” he laughed, turning her pale face pink.

“you saved the complaining for after you had to feed the chickens and weed the mint garden. oh, and after you had to read the letter sent by our neighbour complaining of the noise you made chasing after the kid that escaped the day before!” this time the whole table erupted into laughter while my mother’s face only got redder. my other grandmother beckoned me towards her and put her hand firmly on her shoulder when i came.

“there is plenty of work out there for a healthy young girl like you. my sister, your great-aunt, when she was younger- well, she was a courier. the special type with all the bright colours.” like her i could not remember the specific name for the role, but i knew instantly what she was referring to. i had seen them many times before running out behind the bird shed, unable to stop for a second so as to not interrupt their constant pace, and there were the times i saw them delivering letters to my mother at the door. these letters were from far away- travelling relatives or invitations to trade shows- and my mother had a habit of reading them aloud like she had done in her youth. the runners.

“with the floral patterns?” i asked.

“mhm. all dyed for that one purpose. at night, the outlines of the petals light up like fireworks.” suddenly i was young again, barely knee high, listening to her recounting ancestral tales by rote. “it is not easy work, but you can get the hang of it very quickly.”

“the dyeing or the running?”

“the running, my dear.” she whistled for a second. “they taught you to run a field in school, didn’t they?” i nodded, and she tucked a strand of her once-brown grey hair behind her ear. “then you can run even further.”

that was when i knew.

and now i was finally finished, my preparation and training had been exhausted. i was to meet haines and forrel by the burning wooden effigy of a cockerel out in the circle where the grass had been cleared, wearing my crown of poppies and cornflowers, dancing around in a circle as the brightness cast our shadows on tall heather overgrowth and erect wild wheat plants. my grandmother took me by the shoulders once more, called me by my full name, brushed wild seeds from the red capelet i wore.

my name, sajorie cullathan ythes.

[pagesoflauren]

A Thousand Years (vampire!Jack x reader AU) - Chapter 17

A/N: The first part of this chapter is meant to overlap with the events of the previous, when Y/N is on vacation. hmm I wonder what Jack would possibly do in secret while Y/N is away…

Chapter 16 Chapter 16.5 Masterlist

The bar is empty with the exception of Jack as he stands behind the counter, discussing business with a man, Nathan, who works diligently at his sketchbook.

“Maybe the center stone can have leaves around it, like a flower?” he suggests, pouring Nathan another drink.

“Hmm,” he hums, “three leaves on each side, how about?”

“Yeah, yeah. And maybe smaller diamonds on them.”

Nathan does a couple more sketches and Jack watches as he writes more numbers and measurements on the side.

“What price are we at?”

“About twenty-five-hundred.”

Jack suppresses a smile. He knows he could easily sell a couple of his old things to a pawn shop or the museum, though he doesn’t want Nathan to know that’s easy money for him. Besides, he has another big purchase in the works.

“Okay. Let me see what you’ve got.”

“Two carats total, rose gold band with granulation and filigree. Then the ring should look like this,” Nathan says as he props up his sketchbook for Jack to see. He reaches over to brighten the lights, smiling at the detail of the three leaves on each side. He only hopes Y/N will like it.

Jack approves, shaking hands with Nathan as they discuss payment and pricing, though he’s happy to dock off a few pounds for free drinks for the rest of the year.

“Give me a few weeks and I can promise you that,” Jack smiles.

Y/N eyes Jack suspiciously as he takes the familiar route to the bar.

“What is it, take your girlfriend to work day?” “Not quite, lass,” he chuckles, finding a parking space across the street under the shadow of her old dorm building. Y/N smiles at the memories of meeting him there, giggling as she runs for her life across the street, her hand in his.

The bar looks the same as it did the night they met: lights dim and empty, which confuses her. It’s Saturday and the sign says “closed.” It should be open and crowded.

“What’s going on?” “It’s closed for management purpose. Change of owner.” “Oh, is Liz retiring?” “Mhmm.”

Jack opens the door for her and she smiles widely. It’s decorated with fairy lights and candles waiting to be lit. Jack’s stereo sits on the counter. Jack takes her coat and purse, hanging them on the coat rack near the door. He disappears into a blur of a figure, lighting candles quickly as Y/N hops onto her favorite bar stool. He disappears into the back and hen he returns, a pizza box is in his hands, warm, as if it had just been delivered.

“For you,” he says, lifting the lid and showing her her favorite pizza shaped into a heart. “Romantic,” she laughs, pulling a slice away and takes a big bite. “What’ll it be?” Jack smiles, throwing a towel over his shoulder and pulling up the soda hose.

Y/N laughs. “Are you my personal bartender tonight?”

He smiles wider, grabbing a tall glass, putting a few ice cubes in before filling it up with her favorite soda. “Always have been since that day almost two years ago.” He sets the glass in front of her and pushes the cassette tape in. “How Deep is Your Love” by the BeeGees begins to play.

“Classic,” Y/N says, popping a fallen slice of pepperoni into her mouth.

They spend dinner talking and catching up over the time they had spent apart, Y/N recounting her trip as Jack returns the conversation back to her with reminders of “I was always bored, remember?” The cassette is compiled with love songs, some cheesy and others truly romantic, all of which encompass how Jack feels about her.

When she’s finished a majority of the pizza and declared herself full, Jack washes her glass and closes the pizza box. He wipes his hands on the towel and hangs it on the rack before coming around the counter to stand in front of her.

“May I have this dance?”

As he says it, Y/N laughs at the sound of a familiar piano tune from The Twilight Saga. Christina Perri’s voice soon follows and she can’t help her amusement.

“Really, Jack? Really?” “Can’t deny it, lass. The lyrics are somewhat true.”

She takes his stand, sliding off the barstool and smiling as Jack catches her waist to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself or lose her balance. From there, he waltzes her away from the counter and stools, holding her close to his chest. She smiles happily at the rhythm of his heartbeat, knowing she’ll never quite get used to the sound.

Though Y/N finds the gesture romantic and blissful, she can’t help but feel suspicious.

“Jack, what is this?”

Jack gears himself up, lowering the volume on the stereo until the music is a slight hum in the background. He steps away slightly, holding her hands in his.

“When...when we saw Thomas and Poppy, I was absolutely over the moon. It was incredible to see them again and a lot of things were happening, but the main thing that was running through my mind was the fact that you brought me there. You tracked him down, found him and brought me to meet him, and you did it to make me happy. You did it because you love me, and you wanted to show me. And, I want to do the same. I want to make you happy and we can just keep making each other happy because that’s all I need. I love you so much...and I think you know what question I’m about to ask.”

“I do.” “But, I want to ask you: can I ask the question? Are-are you ready to answer it?”

Her mind is racing at a million miles a minute, thoughts coming and going, zipping in and out of her consciousness and she knows she has an answer for him.

“Ask me.” “Are you sure?” “Yes.” “You’re positive?” “Jack, for Christ’s sake just get on one knee and ask me!”

He bellows a laugh before cupping her hands in his and kissing them, slowly letting them go and lowering down to place his right knee on the wooden floor of the pub. He reaches into his jacket pocket it his left hand, gripping the small velvet box before showing it to her. He props his left elbow on his left knee, using his right hand to pull the lid up and reveal the ring he’d been secretly working on while she was away.

“It’s rose gold, I’m trying to get with the times.”

She laughs, already crying and dabbing at her face with her fingertips in an attempt to wipe away the tears.

“My Y/N, I’ve waited a long time for you. And I am ready to spend however much longer I have with you, whether it’s seventy years or seven hundred. I want to be by your side through it all. I’d follow you anywhere, light and dark. I promise I will take care of you, always. Will you marry me?”

She sobs happily, letting tears fall freely as she nods. “Yes. Yes, Jack, I’ll marry you.”

He’s standing up so quickly, eagerly popping the ring out and sliding it onto her finger.

“It’s perfect,” she cries. “It’s perfect, I love you.”

She throws her arms around him, pressing her lips to his. His arms wrap around her waist and hold her impossibly close to him, her feet leaving the floor as they smile and cry into the kisses they leave on each other’s lips.

Once he sets her down, she pats away the tears streaming down her face and looks around.

“Liz is going to kill you,” she says, “closing the bar for personal reasons to propose to me? You’re probably gonna have to polish every glass in here.” “Oh, trust me, Liz isn’t gonna get mad.” “Why not? It’s Saturday, you’ve probably lost so much business.” “Because Liz doesn’t own the bar anymore.”

Y/N’s eyes widen.

“I do. Or, well,” he pauses, knowing this is (technically) a second proposal, “maybe you’d want to own it with me?” “What? How!?” “None of her sons wanted to take it up. She didn’t wanna force them to do something they didn’t like and I was the closest thing she had to an heir for this place. So, it’s mine—ours. It’s ours, if you’d like.” “Yes. Yes, I’d love to!”

They share another moment in each other’s arms, completely in bliss as Jack lifts her off the ground again and spins as he holds her right to his body.

When her feet touch the floor again, they kiss again, swaying with the music that still softly plays in the background. Y/N breathes in before giggling almost deliriously.

“We’re gonna get married,” she smiles, peeking up at him as her head rests on his chest. “Yes, we are, lass.” “And...this is the bar we met in. It’s our bar.” “Yes, it is, lass.”

All along, I believed I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years. I’ll love you for a thousand more.

“What’s our ceremony gonna be like?” she asks, fiddling with the ring she still hasn’t taken off her finger. “How would you like it?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N looks thoughtful for a minute, her hands pressing up against the sheet that covered both of their faces, making a tent for them as she could see her vision on the patterned cloth. “Maybe a small elopement-style…”

“That’s something people do when they’re hiding, don’t they?” Jack asks, playing with the ends of her hair as he laid on his side facing her, “Don’t wanna hide our ceremony.”

“What then, a big one with fireworks and manmade waterfalls?” she teases. “No, no,” he smiles, shaking his head slightly, “something a bit big though. Lots of lanterns and flowers. A night ceremony for us. You in a dress that makes you look like the queen you are to me.” “Bright colors?” “Yeah, like red and orange.” “I like pink,” she says, “or something soft like that.” “Gold too? And white?” “Mm. And maybe you can wear a cravat instead of a necktie.”

She yawns, hands cupping over her mouth as the blanket floats down, resting against her nose now. She turns to face him and he sweeps his thumb across her forehead.

“Sleep now,” he whispers, “we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

He spends the evening watching as she sleeps, reveling in the fact that she’s his to keep warm, to love, to care for. He can’t help it when his thumb sweeps across the features of her face, though his eyes widen when she wakes up.

“Sorry, sorry!” “Why are you touching my face?” she groans groggily. “Excuse me,” he says, his tone clearly offended, “I was tenderly showing you my affections.” “While I sleep? No wonder your fictional counterparts are considered creepy.” “What—I am nothing like Edward!” “Mhmm, whatever you say darling,” she says, opening her eyes and tapping his shoulder. “Lay on your back,” she commands.

He obeys, smiling when she settles her head onto his chest.

“Goodnight, Jack.” “Goodnight, Y/N. My bride to be.”

Tagging: @albionscastle

[sussex-nature-lover]

Thursday 5th November 2020

Remember, Remember...

♦ if you click on a bold link it will navigate away from this blog to an outside site. Outside sites are not affiliated to this blog

In my book the most important things to remember on (and around) the 5th November are wildlife, domestic pets and safety first.

Our hedgehog population is in severe decline and they’re well known for crawling into what they think is going to be a safe space for a long nap. Hedgehogs who are the right weight have also probably gone into hibernation with the recent very cold snap.  It’s possible something might be hibernating within your bonfire pile if you’ve been stacking for a while ahead of lighting it.

Please, please do check thoroughly.

Fireworks are a very stressful event for animals, bear this in mind always and act responsibly. Advice from last year here.

My mobile phone vintage snap at dusk - the Stand Off

OK, lecture over.

Last night we drove by Ms NW the Elder’s, only the fourth time we’ve seen her this year: we had one nice lunch together back in January and two no touching socially distanced chats. This one was about 20 minutes stood in the street at a safe distance from her doorstep. In the short time we were there we saw a bat fly around several times and the local fox trot across the close. For anyone who doesn’t know, she’s in South East London but in a quiet road where she’s becoming more and more interested in the local bird and wildlife population. On the way we knew we were getting close when we heard Parakeets chattering away. We saw two large skeins of Geese flying as well and actually heard more on the way home. Funnily enough they heard Geese in the dark on Autumnwatch last night too.

On the drive back we got snarled in the ridiculous traffic that got mentions in the national press, so it took around two and a half hours to come less than 50 miles. According to some reports that was getting off lightly.

Culinary Note: we ended up having beans on toast for supper as it was something quick and we were both ravenous. Added a couple of drops of Tabasco to the beans which made them just the right amount of spicy and used pumpkin seed bread. Not quite haute cuisine but very tasty and welcome.

 At least there were some pretty fireworks to watch along the route - not huge amounts but some of them were quite spectacular lighting up the skies. As an aside, despite the huge moon, it did seem particularly dark last night. It was crisp and clear too, very cold. I saw Mars shining very clearly when we got home.

When I was little we had a tiny box of  Standard fireworks to light at home. A few candle type, some Catherine Wheels, a packet of sparklers (my personal highlight) and a rocket or two. It was usually something of a damp squib to be honest and there were often failures to light - very dangerous. I preferred the baked potato, sausages and beans on a chilly night.

By the time we had our own children things had moved on tremendously and we wouldn’t dream of getting fireworks for home, it was always the community bonfire and big organised display. I used to love those nights. We’d get all dressed up with our woolly hats, gloves and scarves and everyone from school seemed to go. All the neighbours set off for the local field around the same time, so you’d meet up walking along and once arrived there’d be candy floss and toffee apples and so on. There were hot dogs and burgers too I think, but we’d have our traditional supper beforehand, it’d help insulate us against the November night air. The bonfire was huge and stringent safety precautions were in place before the fireworks were let off. At the end there was a gentle procession home again amongst the excited children scuffling through the fallen leaves and sleepy tots in buggies. I’ve just read this out to my OH and he agrees how good it was. It was very well run and always pleasant company. What lovely memories.

“Remember, remember the Fifth of November” or “Please to Remember” are variations of a rhyme that commemorates the day in 1605 when a group of Roman Catholics including Guy Fawkes, were caught in the act of trying to blow up the Houses of Parliament.

When news of the plot got out, Londoners were so relieved that the conspirators had been caught that they lit bonfires throughout the city as a celebration. Over the centuries the celebrations have become more elaborate and now fabulous firework displays are a feature throughout England on the night of November 5th. A week or so prior to that, children make effigies of Guy Fawkes which they take door to door asking for ‘A penny for the Guy’.’ On Bonfire Night these Guys are traditionally burnt on top of a bonfire.

Funnily I’ve never known more than the first two lines of the old nursery rhyme

Remember, remember the Fifth of November, The Gunpowder Treason and Plot, I know of no reason Why the Gunpowder Treason Should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t’was his intent To blow up the King and Parli’ment. Three-score barrels of powder below To prove old England’s overthrow; By God’s providence he was catch’d With a dark lantern and burning match. Holla boys, Holla boys, let the bells ring. Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King! And what should we do with him? Burn him!

Two things link up here for me. Firstly by sheer chance the National Trust property Chastleton, which I’ve only mentioned this week, was purchased from Robert Catesby, the leading figure behind the Gunpowder Plot.

That’s a fascinating read in the link, from a local newspaper. I can’t get my head around the intrigue, the danger and the money involved. It’s also a little bit spooky that the plot was originally intended for action the previous year, but was delayed because The Plague caused Parliament to be closed. 

Plague was one of the hazards of life in Britain from its dramatic appearance in 1348 with the Black Death. The Bills of Mortality began to be published regularly in 1603, in which year 33,347 deaths were recorded from plague. Between then and 1665, only four years had no recorded cases.

Secondly, is the matter of organised bonfire celebrations and Bonfire Societies. We’d never come across one until we moved to Sussex, where they are ‘a thing’ around the South East. I don’t know if they’re a thing further afield? Perhaps someone can enlighten me Boom Boom!!! <Pun Claxon> if they are.* see below for details

Back to Bonfire Societies, we’re not all that far from Battle, it’s where our ‘local’ police station is, although you wouldn’t want to walk it! and yes, it is that ‘Battel’ of 1066 and Hastings fame. In fact the local tourist organisation calls the area 1066 Country.

Fun Fact for your Zoom quizzes or how ever you’re going to be amusing yourselves: The Battle of Hastings wasn’t fought at Hastings. It was fought at ... BATTLE. Maybe they thought no one would take it all that seriously if they’d named it the Battle of Battle(Battel) 

The Battle of Hastings is curiously named, because it actually took place several miles away from Hastings, in the place now called Battle. An early chronicle simply states that it was a battle fought "at the hoary apple tree", a name which thankfully didn't catch on.

Anyway, if you do want to know the history of the oldest Bonfire Society and the making of effigies and so on, chose these links

Battel Bonfire Boyes

More info about the Guy

I don’t usually get political on social media, certain topics I much prefer to steer clear of, so take this as topical. Very topical. Quite often now public figures (of all kinds, not just political ones) are chosen as the year’s featured ‘Guy’ Boris Johnson has been a famous Guy too.

Just look at the scale of the build

So there we have it, a bit about nature, a wealth of trivia and some reminiscing and all because from today England is in official lockdown again,  A month long starter for ten - award yourself some cinder toffee or sticky parkin as a Bonfire Night prize if you know that one. If you do make some cinder toffee try dipping it in melted chocolate for your own homemade version of a Crunchie. Tomorrow, Thank Crunchie it’s Friday. Does anyone else recall that advert on the TV?

As we can’t be sure when we’ll all be free to celebrate again, enjoy this, the London Fireworks welcoming 2020. A new year is always full of hope. We just didn’t have a clue what a memorable year this was going to be did we. If we had, we might have decided to blow it up from the start!

Got to admit I thought twice about the Boom Boom joke just on the off-chance those words trigger monitoring by security services! Too paranoid? Well, you can’t be too careful, but no, for the record, I’m definitely not plotting to blow up anything. It’s just another childhood memory.

Plenty of linked reading today then to while away some time in lockdown or wherever you are. Stay safe chaps and fingers crossed for better days.

Poppy for Remembrance (not my photo)

[themousai]

Top 10 Albums of the Decade: Sam Stokes

Gospel  Fireworks

[2011]

“I'll keep my friends, That's the thing you do all over again, You said they'd make me a better man, And bring out who I am.”

It was hard to pick between this album and Oh Common Life, but this is the one that really started my love of Fireworks. A definite improvement from their previous effort, All I Have To Offer Is My Own Confusion, Fireworks returned with a more polished, thoughtful, and mature album. Leaving many pop punk tropes behind, they still manage to create what is, for all intents and purposes, a spectacular pop punk record. For me, this changed what pop punk could be and broadened the horizon. Still full of thoughtful lyrics, roaring choruses and catchy tunes, this album has something for everyone.

Stand out tracks: Arrows, Paintings of Paul Revere, I Locked My Time Capsule

Suburbia (I’ve Given You All And Now I’m Nothing)  The Wonder Years

[2011]

“It’s not about forcing happiness - it’s about not letting sadness win.”

I’m going to start this with a disclaimer. I fully believe that this album; this band saved my life. That’s a very dramatic thing to say, I know, but there you go. Someone on the other side of the world put their thoughts, feelings and experiences onto a page, and then into an album and every single word spoke to me on a level that I had never experienced before. Dan ‘Soupy’ Campbell’s lyrics are honest, eloquently articulated and reference people, places and even previous songs. They are now his ‘trademark’. The second in a trilogy about Campbell’s fight and struggle with depression, it is a more mature and polished album when compared to their cult classic The Upsides, and leaves the more traditional pop punk sound behind for a slightly darker and angrier tone. You start this album realising it’s all pretty grim for our hero Soupy, but by the time the ending track And Now I’m Nothing fades out, you realise there’s hope. The bonus tracks are killer too. I’m not going to write too much about this album - no one wants to read every detail I could into about this album, but trust me when I claim it’s a masterpiece.

Stand out tracks: Local Man Ruins Everything, I Won’t Say The Lord’s Prayer, Coffee Eyes, Don’t Let Me Cave In, And Now I’m Nothing

Under Soil and Dirt  The Story So Far

[2011]

“Smother my name under soil and dirt in the earth, Widen the distance apart. Fuck an apology, I’m not sorry for anything - I’ve been holding back my apathy for far too long.”

Phewwwww what an album for an angsty kid. This album is, in my opinion, the pioneer and landmark album of what I thought of as ‘new age pop punk’. A clear departure from the fun pop punk of bands like Blink-182, New Found Glory and Simple Plan, this album is gritty, angry, and has a point to prove, while still remaining bouncy enough to retain it’s pop punk status. And damn can you sing along to almost every song (just don’t forget to point your finger whilst you do it). The Story So Far set the standard for so many new bands coming through the scene but I don’t think any quite did it like this album did.

Stand out tracks: Quicksand, High Regard, Mt. Diablo, Placeholder

A Flash Flood of Colour  Enter Shikari

[2012]

“Fuck all borders, and fuck all boundaries, fuck all flags and fuck nationalities // fear begins to vanish when we realise countries are just lines drawn in the sand with a stick”

Released on my birthday, this album is a little different sonically to anything you will see on this list, because, well, Enter Shikari as a rule are quite sonically different than anything you will ever really hear. With elements of post-hardcore, alternative rock, trance, dubstep, and punk rock. Quite a smelting pot, and they really nailed it with A Flash Flood of Colour. Lyrically, this album is extremely politically charged, covering many different issues including the failure of capitalism, global warming, and the absymal state of manufactured pop music. Lyricist Rou Reynolds explains the album is ‘anti-politics’ - stating humanity’s need to forget about these outdated systems and simply embrace technology and science to better the human race. This is a very hard album to explain, due to the varied nature of the music, I would argue it needs to be heard to be understood. I will say this album influenced me to stand up and actually care about politics and what is happening in our society. 

Stand out tracks: Sssnakepit, Arguing with Thermometers, Gandhi Mate, Gandhi, Constellations

The 1975 The 1975

[2013]

“Now if you never shoot, you’ll never know, and if you never eat you’ll never grow”

Indie synth-pop for 12 year old girls never sounded so good. The 1975’s Matty Healy revels in theatrics, and even on their first album, a fairly conservative offering compared to their latest albums, it is clear to see. But this is exactly what music needed. A pop band that isn’t a pop band, (something to do with being black and white? See Girls music video), but is it a pop band? It must be a pop band by now. I guess they started off as an indie-pop band? Does it matter? No. This album is an incredible ride through the eccentric mind of Healy, and contains enough sing-alongs and catchy tunes to have you humming for years. What can I say, they nail everything, they’re great, they’re still supremely relevant, they earned their place on this prestigious list.

Stand out tracks: M.O.N.E.Y, Sex, Robbers, Menswear

The Balcony  Catfish and the Bottlemen

[2014]

“And I’m so impatient when you’re not mine, I just wanna catch up on all the lost times, and I’ll say sorry if I sound sordid, cause all I ever really want is you.”

I remember Leeds Festival, August 2014, just before this record came out. I was stumbling around, alone, under the influence with some chips with curry sauce, when it started raining. I went under the first tent I saw and was instantly mesmerised by the band and the music playing. Obviously, this was Catfish and the Bottlemen. Indie songs that have anthemic choruses, super catchy hooks and fun lyrics. This album is just jam after jam after jam. Their later albums are good, but I still don’t think they’ve reached the heights of their first record. The Balcony is just a journey that you never want to end; the gift that keeps on giving. 

Stand out tracks: Kathleen, Hourglass, Business, 26, Rango, Sidewinder

Nothing I Write You Can Change What You’ve Been Through  Trash Boat

[2016]

“I know it’s desperate but I see you in every stranger’s face”

For me, a pop punk band that did something a little different for once. Wasn’t as generic as Neck Deep (I know that’s the point of ND), but wasn’t overtly similar to The Story So Far, but still had that anger and angst that made it pop punk. Tobi Duncan has a terrific voice, able to switch between harsh growls, melodic singing, and straight up yelling. This is the band’s full length debut, and also the production debut for the man himself, Dan Campbell. This album has some catchy as hell tunes, but takes it a bit heavier in places; angrier. Sometimes even more of hardcore punk sound. Tobi’s lyrics are often deep and thoughtful. And if you don’t want to bounce along to Tring Quarry you aren’t human.

Stand out tracks: Strangers, How Selfish I Seem, Tring Quarry, The Guise of a Mother

Blush  Moose Blood

[2016]

“That thing you said, ‘stay beautiful’, even though that I know that it’s second hand, I’d have you say it in the same way.”

It took me a while to be convinced by Moose Blood. I was slow to the party but damn this album convinced me. All drama aside here - this album slaps for real (metaphorically of course.) An album that I think is lyrically simpler than their first album, yet more mature (lyrically and musically), Blush really announced Moose Blood to the world. An album that knows when to go hard, but definitely knows when to be soft and slow, and contains some absolute tunes.

Stand out tracks: Pastel, Honey, Knuckles, Glow, Sway

Chemical Miracle  Trophy Eyes

[2016]

“If love is just a chemical reaction - why is death so different”

I know quite a few people would have picked this album and reviewed it better than I’m going to but wow, what an album. There’s literally not a single hole I can pick in this. Trophy Eyes were already well known in Australia and New Zealand, but when this bad boy came out they kicked down the door to the world and screamed in its face. John Floreani executes a perfect mix of melodic singing and screaming, showing his world and throwing his emotions into this album. Honestly, one of the best albums ever written.

Stand out tracks: Chlorine, Nose Bleed, Breathe You In, Home Is, Daydreamer

My Mind Makes Noises  Pale Waves

[2018]

“I wonder what it’s like to die. Sometimes you cross my mind. Well that’s a fucking lie ‘cause you’re on my mind, all of the time.”

Anyone who knows me knows how hard I go on Pale Waves. Like almost continual playback. Imagine The 1975 but less weird and with a female singer (and drummer). Again you can’t expect me to pick any holes in this album, it’s just too good. Expect to hear a lot more from this band. Kinda sounds like a goth pop Taylor Swift? I dunno. The album is just full of poppy jams to keep you singing until you lose your voice. Don’t sleep on them, this has been my band of the last two years. 

Stand out tracks: There’s a Honey, Noises, One More Time, Television Romance, Kiss

Listen to our decade wrapped over on Spotify!

Written by Sam Stokes

[more decade round ups here]

[devils-gatemedia]

Rock is dead or so they say, with alarming regularity, every few years or so. It’s not dead, it’s just evolving. Younger music fans are less bothered about what genre a band belongs in, if they enjoy it, they don’t really care. Tonight, the venue is full of young music fans who just might be catching their first “rock” show. They are making themselves heard, and they are having fun. The “chaperones” standing at the side, they are also having fun, albeit sneakily. Just don’t tell their kids though. Wouldn’t be cool if the parents liked the same band. The Struts have that appeal; poppy enough not to scare the parents, glam enough to give the old rockers a trip down memory lane.

For a gig with such a young demographic, the choice of Gary Glitter as intro music is a strange one, a choice not lost on some of the elders in the crowd. But, The Struts are hot property in America, where Glitter is often the choice of intro music at major sporting events. The band file onto the stage without flamboyant frontman Luke Spiller, and they build and build ready for the big intro. Once he appears, the screams are deafening. He is all over the stage, side to side, then down onto the front barrier. He is instantly watchable and it’s impossible to take your eyes from him… but, once he breaks into ‘Primadonna Like Me’, it’s obvious something is wrong. The voice is still there, but the high notes are missing. The audience don’t mind as, young and old, male and female, they are singing, clapping, and bouncing. Lots of bouncing.

The Struts go straight into ‘Body Talk’ and Spiller is getting the crowd to click their fingers in time. The kids are totally under his spell, when he gets the them to sit down before jumping up like a firework (“We had a budget for fireworks but I spunked it on my outfit!”), the entire floor, from front to back, are sitting down ready to explode on his say so. When he does, it is quite a sight watching the entire floor bounce as one. The Struts are way heavier live, thanks to the magical riffage from guitarist Adam Slack (especially on ‘Put Your Money On Me’), and the perfectly in-sync team of drummer Gethin Davies and bassist Jed Elliott. After the song is over, Spiller begins to address the crowd; “My voice is fucked. I shouldn’t be singing, but I didn’t want to cancel, so I’m going to singing quite low”. At times throughout the shortened set, he seems to be in a great deal of discomfort, grasping at his throat a few times.

The crowd are willing him on, and like a good pro, he uses them to his advantage, especially during the extended cover of ‘Dancing In The Dark’. No Tom Morello guesting tonight, instead we have Ella. After stating that he “wanted to get his own Courtney Cox up here for a sing and a dance”, young Ella is up on stage in a flash, and is beaming from ear to ear. Like the original owner of the song, Spiller is a masterful performer and adept in making the audience feel like they are the only one there. As well as having Ella act out the Courtney Cox role, he also gets her to act as cheerleader in getting each side of the crowd to try and outdo the other in the noise stakes. It goes on for a full ten minutes before she takes her bows and leaves the stage. A classy moment that made the night for a young fan, a fan for life now.

With Spiller struggling with his voice, the set is shortened, but it brings with it an “off the cuff” gorgeous stripped back version of ‘Mary Go Round’. It’s just Spiller and Slack on stage. The lights are turned off, and Spiller asks everyone to turn their phones on and light up the room, he jokes “I know it’s Glasgow, but don’t be afraid to take your phones out!” A spine tingling moment that was simply perfect.

It’s easy to see why America loves Spiller and The Struts. They are the complete package, and British to boot. If you were at that show and left without grinning like a loon, you have a cold, dead heart. Photographer Dave was so enamoured, he declared it “the gig of the year so far”, and he gets to a fair amount of gigs, let me tell you. Don’t take Dave’s word for it, get yourself along to see The Struts the next time they come around. Be prepared to sing, smile, and bounce… especially bounce.

Review: Dave S

Images: Dave J

Live Review: The Struts – The Garage, Glasgow Rock is dead or so they say, with alarming regularity, every few years or so. It’s not dead, it’s just evolving.

[13thfloornz]

At the main bridge of Holiday, Billie-Joe Armstrong screams for the lights in Spark Arena to go down, grabs a portable spotlight and strides onto the runway. “Auckland….Neeww Zeaaland!! Repeat after me!! “No Racism! No Sexism! No Homophobia!! The crowd dutifully responds before erupting into rapturous cheers. To any sane person, these sentiments are just part of being a halfway decent human, but in 1980s Berkley California, they were the rallying cry of the counter culture; namely the socialist punk scene. They were rules that were proudly displayed on the wall of 924 Gilman Street, the all-ages venue where Green Day found their feet, only to be shunned by their own when they had the audacity to become pop punk sellouts.

The above is just one moment throughout the 2 ½ hour set where the counter culture spirit was truly alive in the sold-out arena, but this was tempered by cheesy, absurdly poppy moments. A man wearing a Pharaoh headdress and playing a more-hammed up than usual version of Careless Whisper, for example would be enough to make any punk purist turn up their patch jacket in disgust.

But it’s this tension between two extremes that makes Green Day more interesting than other Pop-punk bands. Most either aim for a comfortable in-between or oscillate wildly between the two styles, but Green Day takes a more complex approach. In true DIY fashion, they cut and paste Beatles melodies with a perchant for grandiose rock operas Peter Townshend would be proud of, throw on some Springsteen showmanship, and stitch it all together with some Ramones-eque speed and ethics ripped straight from The Clash.

What makes them even more interesting as a band performance-wise, is that these influences are never static- the upper hand is always something that is up for grabs, and tonight Springsteen’s relentless crowd-pleasing presence permeated the band and enthralled the inter-generational crowd.

With the exception of a few songs, Green Day made the wise move to steer clear of their latest songs, instead opting for a hodge-podge of hits that span their thirty-plus year career, resulting in a unrepentant, stomping ode to bubblegum punk. The energy between the three members is remarkable- Bassist Mike Dirnt-who looks like Krammer from Seinfield’s edgy cousin knew just when to jump to Tre Cool’s impeccably timed drums, who didn’t flinch as flames flared and fireworks exploded around him throughout the set. (I wish I could say the same about myself).

Frontman Bille Jo Armstrong gave a masterclass in stage craft and showmanship. Like Tinkerbell on her deathbed, he couldn’t get enough applause from the crowd, and it seemed like every few minutes he was encouraging the audience to cheer or do a call and response. He had boundless love for fans, inviting them to jump onstage and sing, play drums, even giving a girl his guitar before letting them crowdsurf off into the darkness.

There were occasional forays into wedding band territory- a medley of songs  that included Shout, (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction, Always Look on the Bright Side of Life and Hey Jude– was cheesy as anything, but no one seemed to mind. It actually only added to my belief that Green Day has carved out a strangely logical place for themselves, where their punk roots and whizz-bang showbiz sensibilities don’t cancel each other out.

This doesn’t mean that there weren’t moments where this old cynic raised her eyebrows- I internally questioned how a 12,000 capacity arena branded by a telecommunications company could be described by Armstrong as “our own little private underground” but I found his sincerity disarming. After all, Green Day started out in a tiny club dedicated to DIY and inclusivity. It was this spirit that first attracted me to punk as a 16 year old in Hamilton, it was similar sentiments stenciled on the stairs leading up to Upsett Records, my local all-ages dive venue.

The fact that they have carried this ethos all the way to stages this big and not given a fuck about what people think of their sound, that is truly punk. At the risk of sounding pretentious, Green Day could be seen as a ‘Gateway Punk’ into the heavier musical aspects of the genre,but even if they aren’t the ideas and ethos Green Day are rallying behind need to be heard- and surely in a movement dedicated to inclusivity, this is the most important thing.

Kate Powell

Click on any image to view a photo gallery by Michael Flynn:

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Green Day set list:

Know Your Enemy

Bang Bang

Revolution Radio

Holiday

Letterbomb

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

Too Dumb To Die

Welcome To Paradise

Youngblood

2000 Light Years Away

Long View

Hitchin’ A Ride

When I Come Around

Waiting

Minority

Are We The Waiting

St Jimmy

Drum Solo/Knowledge (Operation Ivy cover)

Basket Case

She

King For A Day (With Careless Whisper Sax Solo)

Medley: Shout/Break On Through/Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life/(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction/Hey Jude

Still Breathing

Forever Now

American Idiot

Jesus Of Suburbia

Ordinary World

Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)

  Green Day – Spark Arena May 13, 2017 At the main bridge of Holiday, Billie-Joe Armstrong screams for the lights in Spark Arena to go down, grabs a portable spotlight and strides onto the runway.