#some songs just make themselves a lil home in your soul

[pristine-starlight]

I think it is important and good for the soul and whatnot for every person who considers themself to be even marginally Music Aligned to have collected a list of songs that are, in some shape or form, Them

I don't mean your favourite songs, I don't mean whatever sounds best, I don't mean making a playlist for yourself like you were a fictional character

I mean songs that feel so intrinsically linked to your very being that they might have just taken up residence in your soul. Songs that are somehow part of your story, your experience, your...you

Grab those songs. Put them in a pile. Make a playlist and listen and watch and feel as its heart starts to beat, a monument to you

[thebandcampdiaries]

Introducing: Lil Stevie Lush

Some artists are always able to keep their music fresh and interesting, trying new ideas and setting the bar higher with so much passion for innovating themselves and their sound. This is definitely the case of Lil Stevie Lush, a rap artist with a truly innovative approach to making hip-hop with punch and personality!

The Louisville (KY) artist faced a turbulent upbringing but turned challenges into art. Despite legal setbacks, he used house arrest in 2020 to create "The State-vs-Lil Stevie," his debut project. Hustling hard, he personally distributed copies, gaining recognition in Kentuckiana. His music, a fusion of modern trap and golden age influences, reflects spontaneity and professional production. Collaborating with rap legends like Young Buck and Juicy J, his upcoming project, "Last of a Loyal Breed" (mid-December 2023), features Boosie, Gucci Mane, Jadakiss, and more.

Much like some of the best rappers in the game, Lil Stevie Lush loves to take chances with his music, refusing to get stuck in the usual cliches of the hip-hop world, and instead opting to expand his vision and take his creativity to a different place with his release. His most recent music is a perfect example of this, as it really brings a breath of fresh air to the music community as a whole.

Find out more about Lil Stevie Lush, and connect with the artist via streaming platforms, socials or even better, his official website, where you’ll find links to his online presence!

We also had the chance to ask the artist a few questions: keep reading for more!

- “How do you keep your music fresh and distinct, avoiding mainstream clichés?"

To be honest, when I started recording music, it was to tell my story. I grew up in the early '90s, so I was, and in a way, still am, stuck in the '90s. I feel like that's when it was more real because back then, it was about having a hustle or who could attract the finest females. Nowadays, it's all about murder music or who spent the most on their jewelry. When I jump on a track, I try to bring that real back. Anyone can record a song about being a killer or a fairy tale story, but real recognizes real. A lot of the music today is just putting words together that sound good. When I make music, I try to pour my soul and everything I stand for into it.

- “How did overcoming challenges and legal setbacks shape your artistic perspective and influence 'The State-vs-Lil Stevie'?"

The setbacks and challenges and how you overcome them are what make us who we are. When you look back on life, sometimes the worst times were the best times, and those challenges are definitely what made me begin making music. In those situations, I look at it as "this is a minor setback for a major comeback."

- “How did personally distributing copies during house arrest impact your connection with the audience?"

It's crazy because I've always been well-known in my city. If you don't know me, you know of me and how I moved. Long story short, I already fit the description of a rapper/trapper or whatever. When I caught the case, bonded out, and got placed on house arrest, I recorded like 21 songs within a month or two. When people walked into the stores and saw my CDs and merchandize on the shelf without ever hearing anything before about me making music, I guess it was just something new for them. Because of this, I had everybody calling and messaging me or telling me in person that they got my CD, and they didn't know I could rap. It was dope. When I could leave the house, I would hear people drive past me listening to my music. I think being stuck in the house for the last two years is what has kept me going with it. Now I have a small studio of my own that I let all the local artists use to see what they can do. If I make it, I'm bringing my city with me. FACTS.

 - Can you share specific influences that inspired the fusion of modern trap and golden age styles in your music?

As I said, I grew up in the '90s, so Tupac, cash, money & no limit, of course, but I've always been influenced by the artists who are really about what they speak on, and you can feel the pain, and if you know, you just know I guess some artist like shyne, c-murder, and B.G. always been on my top 5 so it's good to see him out and dropping new music already. As for the newer music g, gotta say Est Gee for putting Louisville on. That's where I was born and did a lot of my running. 

- How do you balance the spontaneity in your creative process with the need for professional production?

I'm doing everything myself right now except for the beats & the mixing and mastering. I have 3 or 4 different producers I work with, and for some tracks, I just upload raw and uncut. I have a allot to learn, but I guess I've learned a little something in the two years I've been doing this because now, if I listen to the first two projects I released on all the major platforms, I definitely want to rerecord them, knowing what i know now and they would sound 100 times better but i i feel like trying to tweak every little thing is too much. I don't even write most of my lyrics anymore. I just punch in, maybe add some ad-libs, polish it up a little bit, and it's done. 

- How do collaborations with rap legends like Young Buck and Juicy J contribute to the narrative of your music?

I always tell my story, but when doing a song with any major artist feature on it, you always want to try to step it up a bit or at least try to come just as hard as they come with it. There are a lot of songs and collaborations I wish I would have gone harder, or I feel I could have later listening to it, but at the end of the day, I'm just speaking my story or my mind on whatever subject it is, but it's dope just being on a song with legends like them.

- What themes and messages are explored in "The State-vs-Lil Stevie," reflecting your personal experiences?

That was the first music project I ever did, and it was based on a situation where some people set me up in an attempt to take my life, so I was all stabbed up and had to learn how to walk again, and because I wouldn't tell the detectives and police what happened or who did it they kept harassing me pulling me over every day searching my vehicles it got so bad I flew out to my brothers home in Oakland, California with the plans of getting me a spot and moving there but a week after I got there I found out they had put a bogus warrant out on me in Indiana for possession of a firearm by a felon with a prior gun conviction when I was never caught with one, never was locked up for it or nothing! So I flew back to Indiana, trying to figure out why or how I got this case. I turned myself in and bonded out, and as I was fighting that case, they raided my home and everything I owned that they didn't take. They broke and tore up and booked me in on the dealing and another firearm charge "with no controlled buys on me no nothing except what they allegedly found," so when I paid that $15,000 bond and got placed on house arrest is when I recorded "The State -vs.- Lil Stevie" I felt it was my way of getting my story out there and taking out some of the built-up hate and anger I had in me at that point in my life. The song on there titled "Victim Of A Crooked System" was the first song I recorded.

- How do you aim to stand out and bring a breath of fresh air to the music community?

I feel I'm going to stand out by just being me. Honestly, I don't know too many, if any, white boys in the music genre are in for one, so my music and my whole swag are unique for the most part. I guess I'm trying to bring the 90s back or something because I feel like that's when it was real, and I know most of the people I know feel the same way, but you can only listen to their same old songs for so long and not many of them artist are alive or making music like that anymore so I feel like that's one of the things going to stand out about what I'm doing. Once I'm able to leave the state, do shows, and promote my label, I've got planned the way I interact with everybody, and I believe people are going to take to that along with the drive and hustle I got in me, ya know, not just in music but whatever I do.  

- Can you share a recent example of a creative risk you've taken and how it has shaped your artistic identity?

I am white, and I do trap/rap music, so that is a risk in itself, lol. Nah, I know people are always going to come with that at first, but when they hear my music and how I bring it, the situations I touch on can only come from someone who has really been through those situations. 

- How do you use your online presence, including your website and social media, to connect with fans?

That's the only way nowadays because the whole world lives off their phones these days. It is almost everybody's most important thing to own, so the email list, fan funnels, social media, etc., is where it's at as far as that goes, especially in my situation, I can't do shows or leave the state rate now so until I can, and for the next couple weeks my main goal is to be getting my social sites updated, and my website all the way together with merch and start doing some giveaways and stuff for the people who tap in with me.  

- What can fans expect from your upcoming project, "Last of a Loyal Breed," and how does it represent your evolution?

It's HARD. It's Grimy with a lot of major artist features. It will be my best project to date, my first actual album. I put more time into it, and people will be able to tell how far I've come since my first mixtape two years ago. The sound and quality are 120% better, and I laced up every track on it, speaking that real!

- Based on your experiences, what advice would you give aspiring artists looking to make a mark in the industry?

Do something different, be different, come with something new, but also be you! And just keep with it and stay down til u come up.

[bitchassbucky]

Highway 63 (Almost-there 2K writing challenge)

On a dusty stretch of highway that connects two cities, a few aged establishments have made themselves part of the land. They say that some days you wouldn’t find anything but boarded-up buildings and old “Do Not Trespass” signs but there will be nights where people find themselves mingling with the patrons. You have to visit on a warm summer night, though. When the moon is shining and the air is light.

There, you would find a Bar that attracts all kinds of people—city folks, locals, people who wanted to disappear amongst the crowd of faces. The building reeks of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor and yet they see groups of people coming in and out, trying to grab a fix of their favorite sin.

Weary travelers often find themselves checking into the Motel, just a few hundred steps away from the infamous Bar. Some rooms are occupied, some things go bump in the night. It makes a decent stopover rather than sleeping in your car.

Patrons love to rave about the Diner near the Motel. The food tastes like home! they say. The booths are aged and yellow, the buzzing overhead lights are dusty and yet it feels familiar—even if it was your first time here.

Venturing further down the road, you’ll find a dilapidated barn. Nature is on its way reclaiming rotten wood posts and rickety doors. Rumors of ghost and unfriendly souls keeps the walls intact; the rusted tractor sits idle on the side.

If you’re lucky, you’ll find yourself driving down the stretch—catching glimpse of faces you’d never see again. The Motel would’ve had its no vacancy sign up, the Bar would be full of people dancing, the beats spilling onto the street. The Diner would’ve been serving pancakes, chicken, and waffles. Pass by the Barn, maybe you’ll see the vines crawling and waving onto the posts.

If you’re luckier, a postcard would be stuck on your windshield, “Welcome to Highway 63!” it would say. Would you take it as an invitation?

—

Welcome to Bitchassbucky’s almost-there 2K writing challenge! With my blog turning 3 years old this June, I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been there since day one. I made lots of friends throughout the years, I even found a bunch of people that I would call my family too.

I’ve decided to take a little break from writing, just until I can find my traction again. Don’t worry, I will be coming back! Hopefully, a better writer.

Anyway, I just really want to thank you for the laughs, for the ugly cries, for the rage, for the keysmashes, and everything in between. You’re always in my heart.

Enough sentiments, let’s get down to business.

Guidelines:

🟪 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. You are responsible for your own media consumption. We don’t exist to babysit you.

🟪 Send me an ask (with your @ if you’re on anon) with the prompt you’d like to take.

🟪 All stories should take place in the Bar, the Motel, the Diner, the Barn, or along the road. Welcome to Highway 63.

🟪 No minimum word count! If your entry goes beyond 500 words, please use the read more tool. All forms of content is welcome: moodboards, playlists, drabbles, one-shots, series, headcanons, etc. are counted as a valid entry.

🟪 To send an entry, mention me @bitchassbucky and @bitchassbucky-afterdark and use the Welcome to Highway 63 tag.

🟪 Marvel/MCU characters are very much preferred. Let me know if you want to write for another character.

🟪 Maximum of two people can take a prompt.

🟪 Warnings, warnings, warnings. Tag your fics appropriately. Dark (noncon, dubcon, etc.) fics are very much welcomed, just tag it. No cross-tagging too.

🟪 NO DEADLINE, we all hate deadlines. KEEP IT COMIN’, FOLKS.

🟪 Hard no-no’s: bathroom play, blood-incest, underage pairings.

🟪 No RPFs (Real Person Fics). Reader inserts or character/character only. OCs are welcomed!

🟪 Let’s keep all entries inclusive, please!

🟪 DO NOT REPOST WORKS OF OTHER PEOPLE.

Prompts under the cut!

Song prompts

You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring

Bad To The Bone by George Thorogood

Don't Stop Me Now by Queen

Girls on Film by Duran Duran ( @belladonnabarnes )

Highway to Hell by AC/DC

Precious Love by James Morrison

Sugar for the Pill by Slowdive

Everybody Talks by Neon Trees ( @blackberrybucky for Bucky)

The Boy from NYC by The Ad Libs

Knock On Wood by Amii Stewart

How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) by Marvin Gaye ( @buckyblues for Bucky)

MONTERO (Call Me By My Name) by Lil Nas X

Streets by Doja Cat (@luxeavenger)

Tokyo Love Hotel by Rina Sawayama

Lover Boy by Phum Viphurit

Nobody by Mitski

Take Me To Church by MILCK

Curious by Hayley Kiyoko

Line prompts

"Are you sure we're supposed to be here?" // "Are we even allowed in here?" ( @vibraniumqueen for Bucky)

"The GPS fucked up, didn't it?" ( @phant0m-queen for Bucky) ( @uncensored-steve-the-platypus for Steve)

"Drive slower!"

"Not bad [name], not bad."

"Can you shut the fuck up for just one second?!" ( @whoth3hellisbucky for Bucky)

"What did you do?"

"You don't deserve to know me like this."

"Oh, fuck."

"Do you want any advice?" / "If it's from you, then no."

"If you're reading this, I'm dead." ( @buckycuddlebuddy for Bucky)

"Close your eyes, I wanna surprise you." ( @lokiscollar for Bucky) (@drysdale-barnes for Bucky)

"What are you doing here?" / "What are YOU doing HERE?"

"Are you following me?"

"I'm gonna need a drink." (@fuckandfluff for Bucky)

"Keep walking. Just keep walking."

"Hey, I think I saw something back there."

"Come with me!"

"Hand me the car jack."

"We're in Bumfuck, Middle of Nowhere, what do you think?!"

Trope and AU prompts

Biker AU (very on-the-nose, eh?) ( @mxsamwilson for Bucky) ( @thefallenbibliophilequote for a series)

Rom-com AU

College AU ( @babyboibucky for College!Bucky)

Vacation/road trip AU

Band AU ( @hey-its-grey )

Mob/Gang/Criminals AU ( @buckycuddlebuddy for Bucky) ( @xbuchananbarnes for Sam)

Spies AU

Stalker AU

Dystopian AU

Fuck buddies/friends-with-benefits trope ( @whoth3hellisbucky for Bucky)

Found family trope

Mutual pining trope

Idiot x Dumbass trope ( @vibraniumqueen for Bucky)

Amnesia trope

Unreciprocated feelings trope ( @buckyblues for Bucky)

Lovers-to-friends trope

Friends-to-lovers trope

Enjoy yourself and I’ll see you around.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

I fucking love your writing!!! You're like one of my favorite fic authors ever!! Theres this cool ass quote that I really like that goes- "I'll take care of you" "It's rotten work" "Not to me, not if it's you" and I was wondering if you could work that into a fake dating AU??

This was such a bad idea, but that had never stopped Sirius before, and it wasn't going to stop him now. James had asked for his help, and Sirius was helpless to do anything but promise that he would do his best.

Granted, he would've been a lot happier to help if it hadn't been acting as James's boyfriend as they went to Lily and Remus's wedding.

Sirius was a nice guy and all, but after he agreed to help, he had to ask, "Why do you need a date at all? We were both invited. It's not like you have to sneak me in."

"The last time I saw either of them, I was being a massive prick because Lily had broken up with me."

"I remember," Sirius said. Mostly he remembered because he'd thought it was funny, at the time. Then, when it had become clear that Remus wasn't planning on talking to them anymore because of it, he'd felt a little bad. Not that they'd stayed best mates after leaving Hogwarts, but they used to meet up every few months. 

"I just want to let both of them know that I'm not going to make a scene."

"I don't think they would've invited you if they thought that was going to happen," Sirius said.

"If you don't want to pretend that we're dating-"

"I'm fine with it," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "I was just pointing out that I don't think it's necessary."

"I think it's very necessary."

"Whatever you say, love." Disaster. This was going to be a complete and utter disaster.

Sirius should be smart and tell Remus ahead of time that it was fake so that he wouldn't say anything incriminating, but if James wanted him to pretend that they were dating, then that's what he would do.

*

Dumb. Idiotic. Stupendously moronic. These were all words to describe Sirius in this moment, and his only comfort was that it was James's stupid idea for this in the first place.

"I'm glad you two finally got together," Professor McGonagall said.

James's arm around Sirius tightened. "Right."

"How long have you been dating?" she asked, and it should've been a perfectly innocent question. They were at a wedding, presenting themselves as being in a serious relationship. These were the sort of questions people asked couples attending a wedding together. Sirius knew this, but given the way James's arm tightened even more, he figured that James hadn't known.

"The lines are a bit blurry," Sirius said with a smile. "You might as well ask if the phoenix came before or after the flame."

Professor McGonagall laughed, which covered the sharp inhale from James. They kept talking, exchanging idle conversation about her new students and their jobs for a couple minutes before they parted ways.

"You need to calm down," Sirius muttered to him.

"I'm perfectly calm," he said, but his jaw was tight and he looked like a pat on the back would shatter him.

Sirius only snorted. "Let's get you something to drink. That'll loosen you up."

An hour and too many drinks later, Sirius wondered if he should cut James off. It's not like he was an alcoholic, but he was pounding back drinks like it was going out of style.

Lily walked up to them as Sirius was debating whether or not he could get away with switching his glass (champagne) with James's (whiskey). They'd said hello to her when they walked in, but she was too busy making the rounds before this to really talk. Not that Sirius knew what they'd talk about. He'd never really gotten on with her, in spite of her dating James for over a year; he'd had plenty of time to get used to her, but he hadn't. "Hi, Sirius," she said with a smile. It was a cliche, but she was definitely glowing with happiness. "James."

James turned to look at her, then his eyes went wide and he swallowed thickly as he saw who he was face to face with. "Erm. Hey Lils. Lily. You look- erm, I mean-"

Sirius switched their glasses.

"It's good to see you- not that- er. Congratulations," James finished weakly.

"Thanks," Lily said, ignoring his stuttering. "I'm glad you two finally worked things out."

"Finally?" James asked.

"Yeah, I know that- actually, it's not my business," she said.

Sirius was very grateful that she wasn't going to get into it, and he was about to thank her aloud when James ruined it.

"No, what do you mean?"

Lily glanced at Sirius, who tried to give her a look to convey how much he would appreciate her not saying a word.

He wasn't sure it came across.

"I might be reading too much into it. It's not like I was ever very close with Sirius, and god knows I never knew what was going on in your head."

"Lily," James said slowly, "what are you talking about?"

"Just that you two have always been close. When we were dating, sometimes I felt like the odd one out."

"Sorry about that," Sirius said, because it had been a touch purposeful on his part.

She gave a small shrug, smiling again. "It all worked out in the end."

Sirius tried to focus on the conversation, asking how Remus had proposed and what they had planned for their honeymoon, but he couldn't help but keep an eye on James, who was staying horrifically silent. He noticed too late that James had stolen his drink back.

Eventually, Lily walked away to rescue Remus from a conversation with her sister, leaving James and Sirius alone again.

"Okay, that's enough," Sirius said, snatching James's glass from him. It was almost empty, but he wasn't going to risk it. "We're calling it a night."

"Fine," James said petulantly. He got to his feet, then wobbled.

Sirius put an arm around his waist to steady him and steered them towards the lift. "One foot in front of the other, love."

"I know how to walk," he muttered.

"How comforting. Do you also know how not to drink yourself into a stupor?"

"I'm not that drunk."

"I respectfully disagree."

"Respectfully?" James repeated with a laugh.

"Would you prefer disrespectful disagreement?"

"Sure. It'll make this feel more normal."

"As you wish, love.” Pause. “You're a sodding idiot. I can't believe I'm having to haul your arse around like we're eighteen again."

"It doesn't count as disrespectful if your voice still sounds like that."

"Like what?" Sirius asked.

"Like you love me."

"Use your imagination for that part."

James snorted, and they kept walking. It was slow going, mostly because James was trying to pretend he wasn't as drunk as he was. They made it into the lift, and James leaned heavily against him. "Maybe I did have a bit much."

"Maybe," Sirius agreed.

By the time the doors opened onto their floor, James had turned morose. It's how he always got when he got pissed instead of staying at buzzed, and Sirius was impressed that it had taken him this long to have his mood turn. Not that he'd been particularly happy before.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"What for?"

"That you have to take care of me."

"Don't be, I don't mind."

"You should."

"And why's that?" Sirius asked.

"Because it's-" he paused as he stumbled over his toes "-bloody rotten work."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Not to me," Sirius said.

"It should be. Why would you want to take care of me?"

"Because it's you," Sirius said softly, knowing that James wouldn't remember this well enough come morning to figure out what he meant by it. "Nothing rotten about that, love."

One of these days, James was going to know that when Sirius called him 'love', he meant it exactly as it sounded. It wasn't going to be tonight though, so he kept helping James to their room. They'd done this song and dance too many times for Sirius to feel weird about it. If James needed help getting undressed, he'd help him. He knew how to keep from staring, so he wouldn't feel like he was taking advantage of the situation or summat. He'd get James to drink some water, and in the morning, James would thank him for the help and nothing would change.

It had been years, and nothing had changed between them.

Despite the countless comments they'd gotten today about people saying 'finally' or 'always knew you were together', Sirius knew that the chances of it happening were slim.

*

The rest of their stay at the hotel for the wedding passed without incident. It was the wedding day, and then the day after everyone was leaving. The day of the wedding, people were busy thinking about Lily and Remus, so people stopped commenting on the relationship between James and Sirius. It was a relief, but the sad fact was that all the people here that weren't family, they all knew from Hogwarts. They all knew Sirius and James, and the next time they saw any of them, they'd probably have to explain that they weren't dating anymore. It would be years before Sirius had to have that conversation with anyone, but he was already dreading it.

They packed their bags, checked out of the hotel, and headed home. Home was a flat they shared and had been sharing for the past five years. Sirius dreamt, sometimes, of them moving into a different flat, one that only had one bedroom because what would they need with a second one?

"Did we talk?" James asked, frowning. "When I was drunk?"

"We talked some, but nothing important. Why?"

"I thought... nevermind."

"Okay," Sirius said easily.

There was a minute or two of silence as they walked up the stairs to their flat and unlocked the door. Once the front door was closed, James asked, "Do you think that'll ever be us?"

"What will?"

"The big white wedding. Or- y'know, any wedding."

"I hope so," Sirius said.

"Really?"

"Well yeah." Sirius wasn't terrified of being alone or summat-- well, maybe a little bit-- but he'd like to have that kind of relationship some day. Something with that much trust and being intertwined in each other's lives the way Lily and Remus now were.

When Sirius turned around, James kissed him. Full on. Hands on either side of his face and leaning close like he wanted nothing more than to seep into his soul.

It took a couple days for Sirius to replay the conversation in his head and figure out that what he'd answered hadn't really been what James was asking. His answer was the same, no matter what, but he really hadn't thought that when James asked 'Do you think that'll be us?' he'd meant specifically the two of them together.

He sure as hell wasn't going to complain. 

[jostepherjoestar]

I remember someone suggesting about the La Squadra child being Abbacchio or Mista’s nephew/niece and I was wondering if it’s ok to ask how would (I’m gonna go with Abbacchio) react to that?. Maybe before joining the kid was just a above average intelligent child but was still normal and now Abbacchio is confused as to why their stoic, cold and with a group of assassins.

La Squadra Kid backstory and relation to Abbacchio + general HC’s

Thank you so much for asking this, I’ve been meaning to summarise their backstory and how they ended up with La Squadra! This will be kind of emotional since it’s bit tragic imo. There’s also going to be some HC’s about our little bud so you can all get a feel at how I see them 😊

Long post!

CW: heavier subjects such as trauma, not fun situations for a kid to be in and usual gang related violence, mentions of abortion and mental illness

General HC’s

I’ve always imagined them to be around 7 to 8 years old, but unfortunately due to all that’s happened, their mind has been forced to mature a lot faster. Of course they should have never had to go through that but life isn’t that simple, especially for them.

Their name is Pomo, like an apple or a pommel :) thought it was a fitting and cute name! I’ll still refer to them as La Squadra Kid in titles but opt for Pomo while writing.

Pomo is not that tall for their age, just cute lil bean with puffy cheeks! I’ve decided to keep Pomo’s pronouns neutral, it just seemed to click more.

As far as their personality goes it’s been fun discovering them through your asks! Pomo is a quiet and stoic kid, they don’t smile that often but that doesn’t mean they’re not enjoying themselves.

They love drawing things as a way to express their feelings or the things they like. It’s a lot easier than verbally communicating for them. They’ll say what they need with the least amount of words necessary.

They’ve developed a weird sense of humour, very dry I’d say lol, also thinks it’s funny to scare Ghiaccio, who they know secretly likes them.

Pomo is quite independent and goes out by themselves, their stand is very powerful and kinda scary, even to their colleagues so they can handle any trouble coming their way. Pomo is slowly learning that they don’t need to do everything alone (i.e. asking for company after nightmares)

Though going out alone can result in people turning Pomo away in shops, that’s why Melone is their choice to bring along so it’s not weird a kid is just out alone spending money.

They’re also very glad to do tasks or things the others ask of them, they crave harmony and peace at home so Pomo will try to help achieve that in any way possible (unfortunately this is a result of trauma).

Pomo really likes La Squadra and sees them as their family now, knowing what member is better at offering different types of things and who to turn to for specific needs.

Their stand’s is named My Way (マイウェイ) after the Frank Sinatra song. It fits quite nicely imo, a force to be reckoned with doing it on their own terms.

And lastly, they do not like hugs or being touched that much. They’ll allow hand holding but only if they’re in a good mood, quick head pats are also ok. It really is touch and go with them, Pomo will let you know when they don’t like something.

Backstory and relation to Abbacchio

The world moved in a blur, the two lines on every single pregnancy test strewn out before her like nails getting hammered into her coffin. Suffocating while it was lowered into the ground, scratching and screaming for air, nails bloodied and raw as the reality set in that she was unmistakably pregnant. The panic followed, clenching her chest like a vice, threatening to shatter her heart and lungs in the process, gasping for air and wishing any other truth than this one. Abbacchio’s older sister wept for days, dark circles alternating with red swollen puffiness as the life she’d just started on her own already began to crumble.

The father of her child taking his exit as soon as she confessed her situation, knowing before she’d even tell him that he’d swiftly let her suffer in the mess. The thought of looking a doctor in the eyes, the cruel conversations she would have to endure before they’d let her suffer in uncertainty of the fate of her unborn child, making her choose to just endure it instead. Not that the choice would offer a softer outcome, it was her burden to bare, she thought. Whatever horrible things she’s done to receive such heartless judgement never occurred to her. The only thing the young woman was convinced of, is that she whole heartedly deserved it.

Her younger brother, growing up to be an impressionable adolescent, unsure how to care for his beloved sibling. His eyes always so full of innocent wonderment at his older sister, wanting to become as brave and independent as her. Living alone, working strenuous hours as if only this would make him worthy of the meagre salary of a rookie police officer. Slowly but surely he saw the woman he so admired creep away as her belly grew larger each month. Coming by often to check up on her wellbeing after school, spending nights or even weeks so he’d be by her side. All the while finishing up in high school. As his sister’s expression grew darker, the smiles fading and her laughter but a distant memory Leone Abbacchio could do nothing but stand by and let her lean on him.

The meagre support their parents could offer did little too ease her mind, the reality of becoming a mother and having nothing but emptiness to offer her child digging her ever deeper into the darkness that consumed her. She sobbed the day her child was born, little Pomo’s big eyes asking her if she was even worthy to hold the small babe. Every look at the child reminding her she had already failed, not even able to comfort their cries before feedings. Incapable of shushing them and finding the strength to coo at those tiny hands that ached to play and accept the warm touch of a caregiver. The young mother did what she needed, feeding the child and changing diapers. The depth of her troubles never easing as she had to go back to work, two different jobs needed to support herself and Pomo.

Abbacchio offered what he could, often babysitting and spending weekends at his sister’s cramped apartment. A child taking care of an even smaller one. The hope he held that his sister would regain her previous lust for life faltered. It only seemed to worsen as Pomo grew. The child never overtly fussed or cried, sleeping soundly and cooing gently whenever hungry. Those big eyes always seeming to bore straight through whoever leaned over the basinet to admire them. The child’s mother wished for it all to end, every night she’d pray to any god who would hear her desperate calls. But as she did only further hurting herself, her pleading like whips claiming penitence on her heavy shoulders.

She begged her younger brother to go out and make his dreams come true. “Never let your resolve falter Leone. Ever.” The voice that brought him courage, the broken woman’s words reminding him of the image he so admired once. But in pursuing his career as an officer it would mean less and less time to care for his dwindling sister and her child.

The night she told him the sisters of their local convent would relieve her of her child, the young officer held his sister for hours. The tears they cried filling an endless well of sorrow. It hadn’t brought the relief she thought she would feel, not a feather lighter as her child would be in more capable hands. Caregivers who weren’t afraid to look the toddler in the eyes as they searched your very soul for meaning. At merely four years old dear Pomo lay gently asleep in a different cot, in a stony building smelling of earth, heated by creaky copper pipes while sisters prayed in unison with beaded necklaces intertwining their palms. Praying for deliverance.

Abbacchio came by whenever he could, becoming more and more weary of his actions and the people he swore to protect as his career started to lack the fervour it had when he started out. Seeing Pomo grow into a silent and demure child, laconically learning to read and write, quietly pleading the sisters not to let their touch on their skin linger. Every stroke burning with an unknown memory that someone once held them, just once and decided to never do it again. Their very skin warding off any unwanted contact without even knowing why. A locked memory with a firm grasp on their being.

“Never let your resolve falter, Pomo. Ever.” The last words spoken to the small child before leaving. The lonely child left in the suffocating confines of the convent. Their uncle wouldn’t return for a long time, days spent hoping to see a sliver of his stark hair and bright eyes that had seemed to dull over time. But the child would never forget those words. Not even as the head sister punished them for not answering when spoken to, not when she would order them to remain on the prayer bench for hours as punishment, knees aching to settle as they were forced to remain. Their eyes boring through the other sisters as they came and joined them at their usual hours of worship.

Restraining the stand they were born with from acting out, self control being trained as they kept going, determined to let their uncle’s last words not be wasted on them. In the free time Pomo was allowed, they’d test out whatever the ghostly figure could, standing taller than them with thick black fog-like tentacles resting behind their back. Whatever those touched seemed to shrivel up like roses in wintertime. Pomo was intelligent, interested in more subjects than just his schooling that only seemed to bore them. The ease of the material offering no challenge as they completed tests with full marks, only making the head sister grow suspicious of them and unleashing more punishment.

Men in extravagant suits would visit the convent every so often, hushed whispers as they walked by the child who’d stoically stare as they passed. They’d always ignore them, scared of the glare and aura the child had started emitting. Many of the sisters had rejected the offer to tutor them when the previous one excused herself, feeling too uneasy by Pomo’s being. It didn’t hurt them, they just kept on doing what the sisters asked of them. Stay tidy, study and don’t get in their way. They had accepted their silence and aversion to touch, growing scared to try anything after the entire courtyard greenery was found shrivelled and dead mid spring. Every freshly planted flower grey and sad, the grass as crunchy as if it had just been burned to ashes. Pomo was sat comfortably on the stone bench that was placed there to admire the garden’s beauty. It wasn’t that they wanted it to happen. Someone just came too close and made them panic, not that it was clear to the sister that accidentally grabbed their shoulders while moving past them, the child remained calm, instead letting their stand take care of the burning sensation that crept over their body.

It was one of those days where a well dressed man would come by and whisper secretively with the sisters as they strode towards a private room and remained there until it was time to leave in an equal hurry. But this time a relaxed gentleman stepped out of the room with a large huff, stretching his neck and groaning loudly as he did. The taps of his heeled shiny shoes echoed through the stony arches of the hallway that led to the courtyard where Pomo had been toying a blade of grass between their fingers. Intensely staring at the green colour that stained his pads while their stand loomed over them freely. As the steps drew nearer, the child paid them no mind, instead grabbing a new blade and continuing the process all over. Soft padded steps made their way over casually until a large shadow covered Pomo. Hands rested in his pocked while his arms pushed back the sides of the loose suit jacket. The cigarette dangling from his lips bobbing after he took another intoxicating drag, puffing out the air harshly while peering at the kid.

“And who might you two be?” The man sunk down to a crouch, inspecting a small daisy that stuck out between the sea of green blades. “Pomo.” The child stopped rolling the tuft of grass as they processed his words. Two. Never had they met another who could see the figure that was their only friend. Unsure if the man posed a threat, he exuded a certain cocky confidence they weren’t sure they liked. “Nice to meet you Pomo. That other one looks a bit scary, don’t you think? But then again, you must be too. D’you mind showing me what they can do?” Offering a gentle chuckle as he gently pried, curious to see what this lonesome child could do, never having witnessed someone so young possessing a stand. It sure peaked the man’s interest as he twirled the daisy between his digits.

The amount of precision they possessed shocked him as the daisy was shot with a quick tap of a foggy black tentacle. It crumbled under his pads as he pressed it, letting it fall back onto the earth. Impressed by the ability and thoroughly interested in what it could do for him, the man proceeded. “Have you even killed someone with that?” There was no need to beat around the bush, that much was obvious when the child never seemed to have moved from their position, merely staring at the ground before them. A slow methodical dark tendril crept towards the man, stopping an inch before his polished shoe. Pomo turned their gaze upwards now, offering a look so unreadably neutral it made the man’s heart beat faster in fear, his many years in Passione not having prepared him to face another that lacked fear as much as the child in front of him. “Do you like it here, Pomo?”

A proposal started taking form in the man’s head, one he’d have to discus with his boss before acting on it. “No.” Clear as a bell their voice made a sinister hope grow, a hope that it would only take as little as just asking them to join up with Passione to get his desired answer. As an Advisor he’d have little hurdles in his way before bringing up the idea to his boss, being one of the only few allowed to even directly communicate with the mysterious man. “You seem fearless, to an unsettling degree, kid. If I asked you to kill a guy, would you?” Somehow the direct communication had been the most pleasant conversation Pomo has had in a few years, be it of a morally ambiguous subject, but refreshing to have another respect their space and not be afraid to ask what they desired of them.

“Are they bad?” The amount of troubling honesty behind the child’s harsh gaze making the man believe he’d met his fate, it had been like Pomo was asking if he deserved to live another moment, their stand still remaining at the tip of his shoe. “Not in their own opinion.” Clearing his throat to regain any sort of confidence, the kid’s eyes skipping through the pages of his soul, weighing his sins and good deeds. In reality they were doing no such thing, only weighing their options, grown tired of the convent and its inhabitants, aching to find any sort of family or support without even knowing it. “Ok.” As they gave their answer they chose to retract their stand, ending the conversation without another word. The Advisor’s sigh of relief deeper than any he had before, glad to be able to continue living.

The Boss was feeling generous, letting his Advisor know that placing the child amongst the men of La Squadra Esecuzioni could serve them well, perhaps make them regain any semblance of respect in the organisation. Opting out of putting their deadly stand in his personal Unità Speciale, fearing the effects of Cioccolata or Secco would build a threat larger than himself. Pomo agreed immediately, knowing it would be best to leave the sisters behind to pray for the child’s deliverance. Making their own money, be it a scanty salary, living with a group of other misfits and taking care of jobs here and there did not sound like the worst future for them. The sisters, terrified at the transfer, having no clue what the mafia would even want with the child, did not let the only person on the outside that cared for them know about the move. Too afraid of the consequences.

But after joining with Bucciarati, Abbacchio held great shame, afraid to face his sister’s child with those eyes that understood too much at such a young age. Fearing any visit would involve them with the tricky business he got entangled in, the little one becoming a distant and painful memory. If only he knew.

Further events take place after part 5 where everyone survives and La Squadra works under Don Giovanna. At Risotto’s request Pomo was left out of the fights regarding Trish and the Bucci gang.

While out with Melone to buy some more markers, Abbacchio felt like he’d seen a ghost. The familiar figure of his sister’s child standing next to a Passione assassin Bruno had fought not that long ago while he excitedly pointed out stuffed animals through the toyshop’s window. “Pomo?” Abbacchio had crept closer, carefully assessing if it were smart to approach. Melone had turned before Pomo could, eyeing the familiar gangster before him. “What do you need with Pomo?” Melone’s features hardened into a scowl while searching for their hand. All Pomo could do was stare up at their uncle they hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

“What’s going on, is everything alright Pomo?” That deep voice reminding them of when he last visited, the voice that told them to never let their resolve falter, ever. “First of all, answer my question. What do you want with them?” Melone stepped forward, never one to initiate conflicts but needing an explanation as to why Leone Abbacchio knew their teammate that had explicitly never been in contact with his side of Passione. “That’s my sister’s kid. Step down you idiot. I’m not here to start shit. Now answer me; what are they doing with you?” Abbacchio growled back at the lithe man, searching Pomo’s eyes for an answer. “Pomo is part of our team. Been so for almost a year now.” He calmed down as he remembered all the fond memories they’d made together, even after the horrible fights with the other gangster’s team.

The amount of shock and confusion Abbacchio felt was immeasurable. After many “what”’s and “how”’s Melone calmly explained that Pomo had quite the powerful stand and still wanted to be part of their squad. “We ask every once in a while if they still want this. Never said no so far.” Melone practically beamed, the other man still trying to process the explanation. Pomo quickly understood their uncle’s position as well, clearly another member of Passione as they connected the dots. That small kid has never hurt anyone -that he knew of- and now they’re an assassin already in possession of a stand? What the actual fuck. His knees began to feel weak, looking for support as he slid down the toyshop’s windowsill. “I’m sorry.” Hands scrambling at his scalp while he stared at the ground, despair filling every inch of his being. Another person he cared about thrown into the complicated landscape of Passione.

The little one reached out their hand at the man that had meant so much to them, one of the only ones to ever offer the child any semblance of a connection. Until Pomo met their new family. A soft pat on the uncle’s platinum strands, grazing the man’s overworked hands. Melone felt his intrusion, staring off into the crowd as he kept some distance, sure to be within ample reach; should anything happen.

Abbacchio had grown so much, learned that his life was worth living. Following his sisters’s advice to strengthen his resolve and to never let it falter like he did before joining Passione. But this one memory, this one being of the past had made its way back. The child he so lovingly took care of and the pain he felt to have left them behind crashing through him as he sat there. Remembering his capo’s words, his kindness and that look of care and understanding making him reach up to the little hand. Memories of them fussing over touches reminding him a hug wasn’t possible. As his eyes met Pomo’s, the ones that always understood the ones they looked in but never let you know what was being kept behind their own. “I’m sorry for leaving you.” He uttered, the small hand getting enveloped in his bigger ones, begging them for forgiveness. “I’ve missed you.” the child spoke, their expression ever unchanging as Abbacchio felt tears flood his eyes and spill onto his cheeks. The purple haired man that had been following along from a distance couldn’t help but blink away his feelings, pitying the small one.

“Never let your resolve falter.” Pomo repeated. The words they’d clung to, any semblance of purpose all pinned on the only advice they’ve ever received. “Ever.” Abbacchio replied, squeezing the small hand between his before wiping away the tears, his actions were forgiven but not forgotten. “Are you ready, kid?” Melone stepped back into reach, offering a hand to the man he’d called an enemy not too long ago, helping him up. A quick nod from the child, a sliver of relief finally being felt, their uncle was still safe and alive. “You know where to find us. Don’t hesitate to come.” Waving goodbye as they entered the store, Melone offering as much assurance he could muster for his now-colleague. But mostly in awe of the child’s strength, they really were something else, huh.

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 12

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11  Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2420

Warnings: Slight bit of swearing

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Eyup My loves! Soo How’s your week been? Good I hope, so a bit of news for you all, there’s only  two/three more chapters left till this book is finished and then we’ll be moving onto (Drum roll) The First Avenger! Woooo! I hope you’re all as excited as I am. Anyways without anymore rambling, I give you chapter 12, enjoy!

So I can safely say that the rest of the week passed pretty quickly, with only a few ‘minor’ incidents, one of em being a massive food fight caused by yours truly and Steve getting himself stuck in the basement for 2 hours after seeing, and I quote ‘a possessed girl dressed as undead batman’.

I still haven’t told him that was me….oops

Apart from that it was pretty normal, cut to today where I’ve been blessed with the task of lookin’ after my best girl for Buck’s parents anniversary whilst they go into the city to celebrate, I mean it’s the least I could do for em. Plus, the last time the lads were trusted with lookin’ after Becca, Buck’s parents came home to the entire house covered in flour with Becca laughin’ at em cause they managed to lock themselves in a cupboard. We had to call the fire department to get em outta there.

Anyways, we kicked the boys outta the house so Becca and I could have a girls day in, now don’t get me wrong I absolutely adore this girl and I would practically do anything for her.

“Y/n can we play princesses please?! Mama got some dresses from our cousin we can wear!”

I can literally feel my soul burning right now. I honestly tried to say no, there’s nothing more I hate more that being forced into them things but one look into her bright little eyes made all my resistance die away and so I uttered the words that sealed my doom. “Of course, Becs only if we can have a tea party in em”. So here we are, me in a navy style party dress, lace covered my arms and the hem of the sweetheart neckline resting just on my collarbone,  the knee length satin skirt covered my legs.

Honestly, I wasn’t as bad I thought it were gonna be, I even let my hair outta the classic ponytail it’s always in so Becca could style it a tiny bit, to her credit she did a decent job. My h/c locks fell in small waves across my back, with the longer strands near my face tucked behind my ears and Becs even convinced me to pop on some of her mama’s makeup. Now I ain’t a fool, I know makeup’s pretty expensive and only let her pop on a shimmery light gold eyeshadow and some tinted lip balm, much to her disappointment I confiscated the mascara, I refused to let that death stick near my eyeballs.

Becca looked absolutely adorable, we’d managed to find her dance dress from last year and it suited her down to the ground. Baby pink lace covered her arms up to her wrist, the middle part had little gems dotted here and there with a pink satin ribbon separating the skirt from the top, from the looks of it the skirt was made outta some layered netting that poofed outwards when she span around. Don’t ask me how but I managed to wrap some ribbons in her braids and added a lil tiara on the top of her head and if you’d asked me, she looked like a real-life princess to me.

“So, your highness, what would one prefer to do? Would one like to have tea in the parlour or waltz in the ballroom?” my attempt at the British accent was apparently appalling, judging by the level of giggles coming outs Becca’s mouth. Eventually she calmed down enough to give me an answer “I think a waltz would be most fun lady y/n” she said in an equally bad accent. Slowly a smile spread across my face as I moved over to the record payer, I didn’t even pay attention to which one I put on before I turned back to Becca and offered her my hand, lowering myself into a bow that looked like a squid tryin’ to tap dance. Very elegant I know.  

You’d think after the past few weeks I’d been with the Barnes family, I’da got used to being tackled by the siblings, but alas I am surprised every-time, hence why I’m on the floor with a hyperactive 4 year old sat on top of me. Becca’s giggles filled the entire room, she quickly got off me and started jumping around to the sound of the jumpin’ jive and leaving me to slowly die on the floor, for all of 5 seconds before she yanked my arm outta my socket to get me dancing with her. I swear this girl isn’t even human, one second she’s sweet and delicate the next she’s bulldozing people to the ground and pullin’ em to the next life, I mean she’s 4 she shouldn’t be that strong!

Thank the lord she’s adorable. Quickly the music took over my mind, my feet moving along to the music, Becca was doin’ some twirls around me with the biggest smile on her face, I don’t know what made me do it but I grabbed her gently by the waist and spun us around in time to the music, her little arms reached into the air as we both laughed our heads off. Of course, me being me, I lost my balance and my butt suddenly met the sofa, with Becca landing next to me with a small yelp, it was quiet for all of 2 seconds before we burst out laughin’. Think it took us about 3 minutes before we calmed down, a comfortable silence fell between us, the music slowly faded to a stop as the record reached its end, and we stayed like this for a while before Becca broke the silence.

“Y/n, can you sing like mama? She don’t do it often cause it reminds her of my nana….” My eyes drifted over to Becs, her lil eyes dulled a little when she said it and now they were filled with a small glimmer of hope, and I really didn’t wanna be the reason for that light goin’ out. If I were being completely honest singin’ wasn’t something I ever wanted to do again, during my time with the Црни лабуд, singing was the only thing that made me feel like….well me I guess. It was the only sliver of light in so many years of darkness and once I was free from them I made myself a silent vow that I’d never do it again, that I was a new person. But one look in her little eyes was enough to make me break it. “I ain’t too bad, only know a couple of songs on the piano but I can try if you wanna”

Apparently Becca didn’t need to be told twice, in a flash of pink she was off to the other room, bellowing for me to follow her, I mean it ain’t like I gotta choice in the matter is it ? the sound of something hitting the floor in the room opposite me made me move even quicker (if that were even possible). Becca was stood in front of a oldish looking piano, a small bench was tuned over in front of her, and a white sheet was discarded on the floor next to her as she bounced up and down excitedly, I couldn’t help the smile on my face as I turned the bench over on it’s feet. Not even 2 seconds later Becca clambered up on it and looked at me with a bright smile, I swear she gets cuter every second like how does this happen ? I try it and I end up put away in a mental asylum.

“You got any requests princess ?” my legs carried me across the room and towards the seat, cracking my knuckles together and stretching out my fingers before turning to look at the younger lass, a look of concentration covered her face in response and it took her a few seconds to answer. “Dream a little dream of me ? think that’s what mama calls it” I swear I tried to stop the soft smile, but I really couldn’t help it this time. “sure sweetheart” and with that I hit the opening notes, the feeling of the keys under my fingertips were so familiar it was like no time had passed since I last played, I kept my voice soft and quiet as I sang. I think I was halfway through my second verse when I felt Becca cuddle into my side, she ducked her head under my arm and put her head in my lap, a soft yawn left her mouth as her eyes started to close to the sound of the music. It was at the end of the song that I looked at her again, soft snores escaped her mouth and her hand was grasping gently at the top of my skirt, I felt my heart melt even more that I thought possible, completely unaware of the small audience I’d gathered until a small cough came from behind me.

Aw shit…..

Bucky’s POV

If you’d told me a year ago, that after spending a couple of hours at Coney island with my best mate I’d come home to what must be an angels voice singing my sister to sleep. I’da never of believed ya, think you coulda imagined our confusion when me and Steve heard piano coming from the dining room. Steve shot me a look of pure bewilderment, and I couldn’t blame the guy to be honest, “thought you’d said your mama gave up piano couple a years ago”. I’m guessing my face mirrored his, cause I ain’t the slightest clue either, mama stopped playin’ years ago so who the heck could it be? “yeah she did bud, swore she’d never set her hands on it again…..”. I’m completely and utterly baffled at this point, where’s Y/n when ya need her ? she’d figure this out.

We both took a step towards the closed door, eager to know what the hell was going on when something stopped me, the sweetest sound I’d ever heard in my life sang along with the melody, I coulda sworn it sounded like the lullaby mama sang to us when we were kids. I guess I spent too long listening cause Stevie boy pushed past me and walked in, the sounds were so much clearer and more vibrant it felt like I’d died and gone to heaven right then and there. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I realised just who was creating this beautiful sound, there she was, sat in front of the piano as her fingers danced gracefully across the keys. Her voice, oh god her voice sounded like that of an angel, the weak afternoon sun shone over her hair and made her look even more angelic than humanly possible. I barely even noticed Becca asleep in her lap before Y/n finished her song and the ever-living pain in my ass decided to reveal that we were there. I mean he coulda chosen any other way of revealing our presence but no he had to let out the tiniest little cough, coulda got her back for the eyebrow incident….

Y/n literally went stiff as a board before she turned to look at us, her cheeks were red as a rose and a sheepish smile covered her face, it was only a couple of seconds after that both Steve and I noticed what she was wearing, he burst out laughin at her but me, I for once in my life couldn’t say a damn thing. She looked absolutely breath taking, her hair fell down in soft waves and framed her face, the shade of blue in her dress brought out the small flecks of green in her e/c eyes and brought out her hourglass figure. Her lips were drawn into a natural pout and it was that second it dawned on me she asked me somethin’….shit.  

“whaaaa…….” Nice one Bucky.

Steve, the lil punk, could barely stop himself laughin’, at some point he’d moved to take Becca off Y/n and stood behind y/n with his fist in his mouth to smother his laughter. My best friend ladies and gentlemen. If looks could kill he’d be 10 feet under right now.

“Buck ? I was askin’ if you were okay ?” Y/n’s face showed a tiny bit of confusion and much to my horror amusement, “YeAh I’m okay….” And just at the moment puberty strikes in the form of a voice crack, as if this weren’t embarrassing enough. At this point Steve was barely keeping it together, he had actual tears coming outta his eyes and went bright red in the face tryin’ to stop himsen laughing, in front of me y/n furrowed her eyebrows and did look genuinely concerned for my mental state. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just looked at me before she lifted her hand to my forehead and held it here for a minute, thank god Steve chose to leave the room before this or I’da never heard the end of it.

“You sure you’re okay, feelin’ a bit warm and ya actin weirder than usual Buck” okay quick say something before this gets even more embarrassing, first thing that pops into ya head in 3,2,1…

“Yeah I’m sure, think I ate somethin’ funky down at the pier, makin’ me real gassy”……why am I like this? Normally I can charm any girl of their feet but with y/n, I’ma bumbling mess.  She didn’t say a damn word, she just raised her eyebrows whilst a small smirk covered her face, before she turned and left me to have a very small breakdown underneath the dining table.

Meaning I let out a noise that sounded like a bear stubbing it’s toe in the middle of winter.

I thought my luck couldn’t get any worse, but nooo old lady luck decided today I needed a second helping, cause the second I did that Y/n walked back into the room. Brilliant. I was too busy stumbling over my words to processes what she was doin’, before I knew it she’d walked back to me and stood on her tip toes….then planted a small kiss on my cheek.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered Barnes”

And just like that, she left me with my jaw on the ground and heart beatin’ outta my chest, cause I’m starting to think that she was right. I’m sure as hell coming down with something, and I’m pretty sure it ain’t a regular ol’ bug…..

SOOO, if you got this far hope you enjoyed it, as always any feed back or constructive criticism is welcome, thank so much for reading and hope you have a great day/night/week.

lots of love

Rose xxx

[visionsofus]

Wanda and Vision's Mixtape Masterlist (updating now)

cover by the wonderful @jjlover01​

Note: my inbox is currently open for prompt/ song submissions 🥰 (1-2wk turn around)

AoU to CW

#10 Death Stranding by CHVRCHES

what will become of us if we dare to dream? Wanda and Vision spend the night at a glitzy party for a mission and get jealous when they see each other with other people. read on AO3

# 11 Happy Together by the Turtles

the only one for me is you. In which Wanda and Vision try to deliver on a promise to cook breakfast for the rest of the team but end up goofing off together instead. read on Tumblr // AO3

#12 Where the Shadow Ends by BANNERS

put your trust in the light you cannot see. Wanda falls ill at the compound and Vision panics. Surprisingly, her illness gives them an opportunity to talk about their feelings. Wanda comes to terms with putting faith in her feelings and in Vision. read on AO3

#15 Flares by The Script

did you see the sparks filled with hope? Mere days after the battle in Sokovia Wanda is still coming to terms with Pietro's absence and the new life she is faced with in upstate New York. Waking from a nightmare she leaves sleep behind and takes solace in Vision as an unexpected comfort. Read on Tumblr // AO3

#19 Feel Something by Jaymes Young

you could be the one to make me feel. Movie night at the compound isn’t going well for Vision, and that’s even before he decides to try and be a bit more human and eat food. He manages to drunkenly confess his deepest insecurities about his own existence before the night is out. Ft. angsty Vision, jealous Vision, pining Vision and basically Vision feeling a whole array of emotions he doesn’t know how to deal with. read on Tumblr // AO3

#21 Start a Riot by BANNERS

I will tear down every wall just to bring you home. Wanda has a breakdown shortly into arriving at the compound and Vision is the only one who can get through to her. read on Tumblr // AO3

#25 Remedy by Adele

I will be your remedy. Wanda comes back injured from a mission and Vision has to come to terms with her mortality, and the limits of their relationship. Tender touching and the intimacy of tending to wounds. AO3

CW to IW

#3 Rescue my Heart by Liz Longley

Rescue my heart (I'll drown without you). In which Vision arrives to help break the Cap’s team out of Raft prison post-Civil War. Wanda recalls fond memories of the compound and comes to terms with the idea of living on the run. read on Tumblr // AO3

#5 The Best by Tina Turner

a lifetime of promises, a world of dreams. In which Wanda searches Edinburgh for Vision after she arrives late at their safehouse. When she discovers his energy signature floating around the city, she decides to follow the threads to their source. Along the journey she recalls the complications of their long-distance, secretive relationship but by the end recalls exactly why they sacrifice so much to be together. read on AO3

#6 Somewhere only we know

In which nobody died in Endgame and Vision gets the opportunity to pick up where he and Wanda left off before they were interrupted in Edinburgh. read on AO3

#7 Clarity by Foxes

don't speak as I try to leave (I'll fall right back to you). A distressed Vision shows up at Wanda’s door after a particularly bad situation goes down at the compound. She comforts him as they both try to reconcile with the very different lives they are now living. read on AO3.

#8 Our Corner of the Universe by K.S. Rhoads

Our little corner of the universe. In which Wanda and Vision are coming to the end of a few weeks together in Paris pre-IW and Wanda dreams a life for them where they no longer have to run and hide. Unknowingly, she draws Vision into her dream and they both must contend with the idea that this reality isn't something that will be easy for them. read on Tumblr // AO3

#9 If You Ever Come Back by The Script

just like you were never gone. Wanda and Vision recall an argument that forced them to go their separate ways in the early days of their relationship post-CW. Upon finding out Wanda is near the Compound Vision can't help himself and seeks her out to apologise. Read on Tumblr // AO3

#13 I Know Places by Taylor Swift

just grab my hand and don't ever drop it. Wanda and Vision try to spend a peaceful evening out for dinner in Paris when they are suddenly attacked. To keep each other safe they split up, forced to make the harrowing journey to the next safe house separately. Vision is faced with Wanda's mortality. read on AO3

#14 Me and My Husband by Mitski

when he walks in, I am loved. Vision is reminded that it is Valentine's Day and decides to show up at Wanda's safehouse to surprise her. Fluff ensues and Wanda's fugitive teammates realise exactly how close the pair have become. read on AO3

#17 Can You Feel My Heart by Bring Me the Horizon

can you feel my heart. One year into being a fugitive Wanda gets cornered, Vision sees the news in real time and runs to her aid. Aka Vision going apeshit when he thinks Wanda is dead. read on Tumblr // AO3

#18 That's All by Michael Bublé

All I have are these arms to enfold you and a love time can never destroy. Wanda and Vision share a perfect morning in Paris, snuggled up together watching the rain stream past the windows. aka 1000 words of fluff. Read on Tumblr // AO3

#20 The Scientist by Coldplay

you don't know how lovely you are. Wanda surprises Vision by breaking into the compound shortly after the fight in Germany. read on Tumblr // AO3

#23 Bury This by RVRB

I should bury this. Immediately after Wanda leaves in Civil War, Vision reflects on his feelings surrounding her departure. AO3

Post-IW

#16 Through the Fire by Jake Etheridge

I was lost (now I'm found again). The Battle of Wakanda is over. Vision knows he's gone and that there is no coming back. Taking pity on Vision, the mind stone lets him see some of his most treasured memories once more, to ease his passing. read on Tumblr // AO3

Canon Divergence

#1 Last Dance by Camera Can't Lie

If this was our last chance (I'd ask you to say). In which Civil War never happened and they all lived happily ever after. Wanda and Vision dance at one of Tony’s fancy galas and are forced to address the feelings that have become apparent to themselves, and the rest of the team. Yearning included with a happy resolution after a lil bit of angsty longing. read on Tumblr // AO3

#2 Infinity by Jaymes Young

Darling my soul, it aches for yours. In which Wanda and Vision sneak out of the compound and go on a date and just revel in the act of being together in public. The rest of the team doesn't know yet so they're working had on keeping everything a secret. When they arrive back Vision is so enamoured with Wanda that he trips the Compound alarms, waking everyone up with the fear of a break in at the front of their mind only to find the pair in a compromised position. Read on AO3

#4 Light Me Up by Ingrid Michaelson

we are tonight, we are forever. Wanda and Vision spend a domestic evening together free from the rest of the team. read on Tumblr // AO3

#22 Only Us by Ben Platt

it can be us, and only us. The Sokovia Accords are renegotiated so that the team are never divided. Following the successful signing of the document a press event is held at the compound. Wanda and Vision take a moment to breath away from the crowds, both have been holding back from each other for months, worried about risking their friendship. A simple miscommunication leads to a brief moment of angst as they realise their months of pining over each other has been mutual. read on Tumblr // AO3

#24 I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

I wanna be yours. Things get racy between Wanda and Vision in the compound kitchen. Vision tries to come to terms with the intensity of his feelings for Wanda. AO3

[nuitapp]

💖 Summer Love Horoscopes 2021 🪐

What do the stars have in store for you and your love life this summer?

Whether Single or in a Relationship, read your Summer Love Horoscopes for 2021 and get insights for your perfect date, you summer song anthem & how this Cosmic Energy will manifest for you, primarily based on your Rising Sing (+ Sun Sign)

Aries ♈

Aries, you are in for a passionate, romantic summer!

Your ruler, Mars, will be in Leo for the majority of the summer, gathered with romantic, beautiful Venus. Since this will be transiting your 5th house of romance, fun, and entertainment, you can expect to feel much more flirty, creative and in the mood to party.

If you’re single, this is a passionate time of putting yourself into your hobbies, saying “yes” to the party and flirting unabashedly. You may not be in the mood for commitment, as you’re more inclined to keep things light and fun during this influence.

If in a committed relationship, this is a positive energy to reinspire the playful energy within your union.

Perfect summer date: Laser tagging so you can get a little competitive AND flirty!

Song of the summer: Kiss Me More by Doja Cat feat. SZA, the perfect flirty, romantic, and passionate anthem for your summer 2021

Taurus ♉

Taurus, this summer is about expanding your networks.

With Jupiter expanding the sector of your chart governing friendships, groups, and communities until July 28th, you are in the mood to network, socialize and widen your social circle, whether it’s in person or online. This is your summer for saying “yes” to the social invitations, as you never know how those connections can blossom!

Single Taureans can find love in unexpected social gatherings this summer, such as the business happy hour or saying yes to that open-air concert an acquaintance invites you to.

Committed Taureans, socialize with your partner’s friend group, or plan an event where your social networks can intermingle.

All bulls can expect the flirty creative energy to radiate significantly after July 22nd, when Venus enters fellow Earth sign, Virgo, impacting your 5th house of romance and flirting.  Connect, flirt and shine your light this summer, Taurus!

Perfect summer date: Group date to the movies, so you can connect with your friends AND your crush!

Song of the summer: Best Friend by Saweetie feat. Doja Cat is the perfect jam for the bulls social summer

Gemini ♊

Gemini, this summer, you have high standards and you’re looking for your partner to meet you at your current level of independence, ambition, and intelligence. As it should be!

This summer, you’re prioritizing yourself and your needs, and if the right person fits into the picture, great! But you aren’t stressing about making it work with anyone else, rather putting that energy into your passions and your life, which is making you even more magnetic. Much of your attention is being drawn to your career and to your knowledge base.

Single Geminis could have a social summer, of meeting love interests online, in-class, or elsewhere, as they pursue a topic that interests them.

Committed Geminis may want to learn with their love, enrolling in a joint class, and perhaps embarking on learning a new skill together.

Perfect date: Trivia night with your beloved 

Song of the summer: 34 + 35 by Ariana Grande is just the confident summer tune to remind you that you’re the main character of 2021

Cancer ♋

Summer 2021 for the Cancers is about building your confidence and connecting with your spiritual beliefs!

With the Venus-Mars conjunction in Leo lighting up your 2nd house, you may be putting much of your energy this summer towards investing in your confidence, self-esteem, and self-expression. You may be experimenting with new clothes or a new style to find what authentically feels best to you. With North Node in your 12th house, you may not feel as social this summer, but honor this call to come within and heal - true confidence is built from the inside out, and this is your focus this summer! Single Cancers could connect with someone like-minded while they’re on their spiritual journey, working to heal and build confidence. Committed Cancers can experience an incredibly soulful summer with their love, so long as they are forthright about needing space and time to invest in themselves. 

Perfect summer date: Taking a meditation class with your crush

Song of the summer: Good Days by SZA is the soulful song you’ll resonate with this summer. 

Leo ♌

Leo, are you ready for your hot girl summer? Because this summer, you are taking center stage...as it should be!

Venus and Mars will illuminate your 1st house of identity and appearance, so expect your confidence to skyrocket. You may feel more inclined to want to experiment with your style, stepping out in the boldest of styles, starting trends left and right.

Some Leos may get more into fitness, makeup or hair. One thing is for sure - you sun-ruled natives are going to shine in Summer 2021, and you aren’t willing to dim your light for anyone or anything.

Single Leos will have enormous amounts of romantic attention that they can pick and choose who is lucky enough to be a witness to their glow!

Committed Leos may be more into dressing up to the nines with their lover and heading out to the best restaurants and clubs, wanting to be seen. 

Perfect summer date: At the club, being seen by everyone in your finest 

Song of the summer: Up by Cardi B is the perfect song to hype yourself up before a fun night out

Virgo ♍

Virgos, this can be a MAJOR summer of deep, soulful love for you all, if you are open to explore it!

With Jupiter exploring your 7th house for the majority of the summer, you are lucky in attracting new partners to you and may feel extra inspired by the people you’re surrounded by. You may be getting tons of romantic attention, but you aren’t just satisfied with any old union - with Venus and Mars in your 12th house for the first part of the summer, you could find you’re craving a deep soulful bond, the sort of connection that inspires you to expand your mindset, the sort of relationship where you don’t even need words to express yourself.

Expect to feel more confident and beautiful after July 22nd, when Venus enters Virgo.

Single Virgos could find that they have a multitude of options, should they choose to move forward in a relationship.

Committed Virgos could travel with their lover, or have a desire for more freedom within their union.

Perfect summer date: Beach date, so you can be calmed, soothed and inspired by the waves while getting to know someone

Song of the summer: Peaches feat. Daniel Caesar and Giveon by Justin Bieber is just the flirty, upbeat song to accompany your expansive summer

Libra ♎

With your Ruling Planet meeting up with Mars for part of this summer, you’re in for a passionate season! You may notice you’re a bit more forward in pursuing the people you’re interested in - don’t fear being direct, Summer 2021 is about being bold! 

The two planets will meet up in your 11th house of friendships, groups, and networks, so single Libras could definitely find love when they ask a friend or coworker to set them up with someone.

Trust in your community - your friends know you better than everyone, and you can find a great match when you dare to let your friends play matchmaker.

With Jupiter expanding your 6th house of health, you could feel more inspired to work out with your partner or meet someone special at the gym. 

Perfect summer date: Fitness class, then grabbing smoothies afterward

Song of the summer: Solar Power by Lorde, to inspire you to let your light radiate out as you socialize 

Scorpio ♏

Scorpios, you are a deep and intense sign - but you’re finding that this summer, you want to have FUN!

With Jupiter in Pisces deepening your 5th house, you are feeling more creative and more in the mood to party.

Scorpios are the most magnetic this summer when they are expressing themselves unapologetically, following what makes them happy and creating just for creation’s sake. ! Since your ruling planet, Mars, will mostly be focused in your 10th & 11th houses, which is largely associated with work and legacy, this is a work-hard / play-hard summer. Indulge in your hobbies, invest in your career, and be open to a fun time! You may be feeling more romantic and sensual, since your ruling planet is gathered with Venus. 

Single Scorpions could even meet someone when they choose to immerse themselves within their hobbies - meeting a fellow cinephile at the movie theater, or a fellow rollerskate enthusiast at the rink.

Committed Scorpions should indulge in their creative and entertainment pursuits with their partner

Perfect summer date: Drive-in with ALL of the snacks!

Song of the summer: Levitating by Dua Lipa feat. DaBaby is the perfect jam to dance to before creating some new art or going for a light-hearted date

Sagittarius ♐

Sagittarians, you ALWAYS are the life of the party, and this summer is no different!

You’re open to love, but it’s important that your lover can keep up with you. Your ruling planet is moving through your 4th house of home, so you can be feeling rather restless, wanting to move, renovate or even set up abroad.

With Venus and Mars co-transiting your 9th house, you may want to embark upon travel with your lover. You’re looking for someone who can keep up with your spontaneous summer adventures. You want to learn, explore and expand your wings and want an adventure buddy who’s down to be along for the ride.

Committed Sagittarians may want to plan a trip with their partner, single Sagittarians may meet their perfect match ON a trip!

When Venus moves into Virgo on July 22nd, you may find you’re more inclined to put time and energy into your career and public persona - you could even meet someone at work. 

Ideal date: Going on a cross-country travel with your lover

Song of the summer: MONTERO (Call Me by Your Name) by Lil Nas X is just the carefree summer song to accompany all of your adventures 

Capricorn ♑

This summer, love can be in the cards for you, but it needs to be the right kind of love for you to feel inspired.

You’re looking for a deep sort of intimacy, both physically, mentally, and spiritually. Otherwise, you’re content in stacking your money and focusing upon work, with your ruling planet in the 2nd house of money and resources and North Node in the 6th house of work and service.

You aren’t willing to lower your standards, so single Capricorns may find they aren’t interested in talking with people JUST to talk or flirting JUST to flirt. But the odds are, if you are open to a deep union, you can absolutely find it.

Committed Capricorns could experience a major deepening of their union, increasing the intimacy and depth they experience. 

Ideal date: Playing a question card game to learn more about your date or partner to see if it’s a match

Song of the summer: telepatía by Kali Uchis

Aquarius ♒

You’re in for a romantic summer, Aquarius, with the two passion planets, Venus and Mars, meeting up in your 7th house for the first part of the summer!

While typically Aquarius is more logical than emotional, this summer flares up your passionate and romantic side!

You may find you are feeling much more romantic, wanting to elevate every date and experience to make them as sensual, beautiful, and lovely as possible.

Single Aquarians could absolutely find that this summer, they commit to someone they’ve been crushing on.

Committed Aquarians could find the passion in their union is intensified. 

Perfect summer date: Going to an art museum with their lover, to witness beautiful art and hold hands

Song of the summer: Leave the Door Open by Anderson.Paak, Bruno Mars, and Silk Sonic is the perfect smooth song that describes Aquarius romantic summer

Pisces ♓

Pisces, you’re in for a dreamy summer!

With Jupiter in your same sign, you could be feeling more optimistic and faithful regarding your future. You’re willing to put in the time and energy to be the best version of yourself.  You may be feeling more independent, more inclined to want to invest in your healing and spiritual journey.

Honor your calls to spend more time in solitude, as you’ve been investing energy into your hidden, private world.

Single Pisceans could meet someone in their pursuit to be the best version of themselves.

Committed Pisceans may want to embark upon this journey of self-improvement with their lover.

Ideal date: Taking yoga class with their lover 

Song of the summer: Save Your Tears by The Weeknd & Ariana Grande is just the song Pisceans could benefit from while they working to process their emotions, and heal themselves, mentally and physically.

👉🏽 Check your Daily Horoscope, Astrology Forecasts & your Personal Traits in the App.

⭐ Connect with us on Social Media to follow up with our News  on Twitter and our Astro Lifestyle updates on Instagram.

[sleepylixie]

The Twilight Renegade- Spellcaster! Lee Know

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: As fantasy as it can get!

Beware of violence(a mild dose of it), mentions of an unhealthy household. Minho is a tricky lil shit and I loved writing him-

A/N: THIS FIC DOES NOT REFLECT THE CHARACTER OR LIKENESS OF THE REAL LEE KNOW IN ANY FORM OR MANNER. ONTO THE FIC!! I enjoyed writing this wayyy too much 💀😂😂 The idea of having Minho be a dark wizard was so appealing for reasons i am yet to comprehend. ANYWAYS. ENJOY!!

Requests are open for SKZ and BTS! || Masterlist

The Twilight Renegade.His name is passed from ear-to-ear in hushed whispers, his story told at children’s bedsides, the bard’s bonfires and old wives’ kitchens.

There’s so much known about the legendary dark wizard and yet, his existence remained shrouded in a cloak of mystery.

Where did he come from? Was he mortal? Did he sell his soul to the Devil? 

It was said that the Twilight Renegade travelled the world cloaked and under disguise, sometimes not as a human, providing justice and retribution to those who couldn’t find it for themselves.

Where the Renegade came a- knockin’, treachery went a-runnin’, chorused the old song that every travelling musician worth his salt knew the words from memory.

Some said he was a poor orphan who died and was reincarnated by a magician hunting for a protegee.

Some claim to have known him as a child, a strange little boy who grew up with blood on his hands and bones in his pocket, he was always a strange one until he ran away from his family to never be seen again.

Some swear up and down to have seen his true face, singing praises of beautiful eyes and seductive lips like a maiden but a dead smile that betrayed his true nature. 

If only they knew his true nature.

Said Twilight Renegade went by the name Lee Minho when he was off the job and was nothing more than a cat parent with a penchant for goodwill trickery.

In the spring days, a smiling young man wandered the marketplace with fresh game, bartering pleasantly with the baker and the butcher, greeting the maidens with a wink as they cooed at the 3 cats frolicking at his feet.

Of course, it was all a pretense-

the maidens only ever had eyes for Minho’s angular jawline and his sharp nose, his strong shoulders and lean yet built frame

sigh

He was an oddity, the sweetheart of the village. 

Lee Minho lived in the corner of the village by himself for around 1/3rd of the year, then leaving on work trips the very day autumn begins to set in

He only reappeared again the morning summer awakens in their village, after almost 10 months away.

He’d bring back exotic spices for the old wives, pretty gemstones for the little girls and daggers for the little boys- 

he was generous, the sweetheart of the village.

He’d always laugh away the questions thrown at him about his work trips, surrounded by hot-blooded young men in the crowded bar.

“Nothing interesting, I promise you,” He’d smile his mystery smile, tipping back his beer. “A lot of trading and a lot of travelling. You meet a lot of new people. That’s pretty much it.”

He was mysterious, the sweetheart of the village.

Little did those hot-blooded young men know how truthful, yet false his words were.

Lee Minho was a 400 year old dark magician, born into a small home of supernatural oddities.

His father was the last dark magician of a lost cult, his mother a necromancer from a family of elementalists.

He grew up with a rocky childhood, a shattered home where fights between a power-drunk father and alcoholic mother raged more often than not. 

They had nowhere to go but home, they told Minho every night, for they had no family left but each other, and of course, him.

This young boy with lilac eyes and a penchant for spell-casting grew up more in the wilderness than in his own home, finding the crickets and owls safer than breaking glass and raging screams.

He found himself a love for animals-particularly of the feline type, cooing at the kittens in the ditch and unabashedly playing tag with the panthers over no-moon nights. 

Minho’s parents were united in one front, however; they knew they had to leave their son with all the magical knowledge they’d ever gained over their years.

So Minho became his parents’ apprentice-He learnt to harness dark energy, to reanimate cat skulls and then cat skeletons, to bind the shadows to his bidding, to build incantations that would suck out his enemy’s power,to read minds, break minds

The more Minho’s power grew, the darker his eyes got- by the time he was 20, his eyes were bordering a deep royal purple.

He was his father’s pride and his mother’s joy, the apple of their eyes despite the hate they harbored for each other. He could almost believe that they were a normal family if he spent as long as he could out of the house with his feline (dead and alive) friends. 

It was on one such night that he made his way back home just before sunrise, only to scramble back into the bushes and watch in terror as a battalion of humans tore his house apart with pitchforks and fire,

Drag his mother out by the hair, chanting WITCH. WITCH. WITCH. WITCH. 

Watch his father be overwhelmed by the sheer brutality of mortal weaponry, succumb to age and fall, broken and very, very dead, from the way his head hung off his shoulders 

Watch his mother burnt alive in front of his house’s doorstep, left to die with her husband.

And felt something crack inside him.

//

There were limits even a necromancer couldn’t cross, even after the loss of their loved ones. 

Minho was distraught, understandably so. Having to watch his only family be butchered by a senseless mob had him bristling in a mix of emotions he couldn't differentiate.

He stayed in the woods with the owls, crickets and assorted felines, hunting game and satiating his human hungers.

He wished he wasn't human anymore. He wished he didn't have to be associated to a race of people that killed and let kill without a second thought, under the name of humanity.

Weren't his parents human too?

It was that exact thought that had him pulling together all of the magic running in his veins and perform his possibly last, potentially dangerous spell-

Nobody knows what happened in the Twilight Woods that night, but nobody would forget the raucous screaming that emanated from there for hours, like a young boy's screams of pain

And nobody would forget the piles upon piles of bones that laid at the edge of the woods

Human bones.

Every pitchfork wielder who had turned up at the witch family's house to burn the inhabitants were reported missing that very day.

//

Turns out Lee Minho had a skill other than feline whispering and spell-casting: he had an uncanny knack for staying alive

That final spell he cast in Twilight Woods was an incredibly dangerous spell that involved sucking out surrounding life forces- enough to make the caster virtually immortal

And of course he chose the people in the mob, not the sweet animals in the woods.

His new immortal status gave Minho a purpose in life.

He decided he was going to rid the world of all the lowlife scumbags that felt privileged and entitled to things and people who didn't belong to them.

//

Word travelled fast, even in thise times, of a dark wave that swept out from Twilight woods into the surrounding towns in a matter of months

Woman abusers and rapists found without genitalia, slave traders dead of uncurable disease

Cheating nobility hung by their coattails in town squares for their victims' amusement, their rightful money returned to them

The dark wave had a sense of humor.

When one of the stragglers of the dark wave swore that the dark wave was a person, a man, dressed in twilight purple and a dangerous smile

Townsfolk took to calling him the The Twilight Renegade

Minho took the name to heart, for what was he if not a newly immortal spell caster with a sense for the dramatic

He wore purple all the time, a mockery of the colour scheming nobility claimed for themselves

What a nice twist of irony would it be, to have your fate decided by a lowborn magical spellcaster who wore the colour of luxury better than they?

Everybody knows the story of the magical Robin Hood who came from questionable origins, but lived life with a love for trickery, feline companions and an unflinching sense of good.

[funsizearsonist]

Headcanon 1/?

hey!! I know it’s a lil late in the day for this (as in: it’s past 12 so this was supposed to be up yesterday) but here you guys go! I figured I’d kick off this whole headcanon shabang with some good old-fashioned willie angst!

TW for talk of losing a soul? 

What if losing your soul hurts more than the jolts?

I mean it makes sense right? With jolts it was just Caleb getting their souls, not destroying them

So it probably takes time for him to destroy a soul, because he's powerful but only so much

And completely destroying a soul has gotta take a lot of power, more than stealing one, so it would take more time

so what if the s2 deal is:

Caleb realizes what happened. He's lost Willie, because Willie has found someone else and become disillusioned with the hgc and everything he does. So it's time for Willie to Go

He tries not to tip willie off because he doesn’t want them to realize what's happening any sooner than he has to, because no one should be able to counteract him but they weren’t supposed to be able to get rid of the stamp either

But willie knows that something’s up because Caleb has to know. He has to know that he helped them cross over, has to know him being gone that day had something to do with the big show at the Orpheum. He should be mad? But he hasn’t even said a word, and willie is on their toes

Then he overhears Caleb discussing with his right hand man. Filling a position, a traitor, must be disposed of, something along those lines. And there’s really no question what that’s about.

So maybe he's panicking. So what? What could they be expected to do? He just sort of runs, then skates, away. There's nothing left for him at the club, they cant stay when Caleb is there and Caleb is killing them, in a way

So he hops on his skateboard and goes as fast as they can and when the streets get too busy and they’re not in the mood to pass through anything he picks up his skateboard and runs and when he's fully out of breath even though he's a ghost and all the fight drains out of him

He sort of just drops down to the ground, maybe on the beach

And figures if they’re gonna spend their last days anywhere, it might as well be here 

And he knows he has a good few painful last days ahead of him because destroying a soul isn’t easy work 

So he holds his skateboard and watches the sunset and cries 

Because of the band that's gone now because of them 

Because of Alex, who was so amazing and is now so painfully not there 

And he lays down and gets hit by a jolt? of sorts? that feels like getting kicked in the chest and landing on your back at the same time 

And it knocks all the air out of him, so he just stays there, staring at the sky. It’s not like they had anywhere to go anyway

And they just stay there, on their back, running his hand over one of his skateboard wheels, as the sky gets darker and darker and fills with stars, and then lighter again 

Maybe humming Finally Free or something quietly to themself 

Then the next morning, the boys take a walk on the beach 

Or maybe just Alex 

And they find willie there, crying 

When he gets hit with another jolt thing that leaves him gasping for breath, doubled over in pain

So reunion!! The boys didn’t have to cross over and leave julie behind after all! They get to see Alex's face again, and they’re really happy for the boys, being free

But it's almost worse because now they’re leaving Alex again 

And then he'll be just completely Gone and there's no coming back from that

So he tries to push Alex away, after all they only brought trouble and he doesn't want Alex getting too attached before he's gone 

But Alex isn’t having it so he takes willie back to the Molinas’

And just showers them in love 

And they don’t go on dates, really, but they decide to do a lot of the things they never got to do together 

Most things they do as a family (willie, alex, reggie, luke, and probably also julie+co sometimes) The only true family willie's ever had 

So willie's having a great time, when he's not being knocked on his ass by jolts

Willie decides to go on a date of sorts with Alex, close ish to his end 

Because as the jolts get worse he doesn’t want that to be all they're thinking about 

And he doesn’t want it to be Alex who's there/the only one there when they finally disappear

So the date is adorable and bittersweet 

Maybe they go skateboarding, and they try to teach Alex a few things 

And then Alex tries to teach him a few things on drums, because they both want to learn about the thing the other loves 

But for the main part of the date 

They just wander 

Hold hands in public, which Alex isn’t quite used to but he loves 

And just go where their hearts take them, with no concerns about time or caleb or anything, which willie certainly isn’t used to but its great 

They end up at a park, and there's some music playing, and they dance, which they both love 

The first song is fast and fun and just the way they're both used to dancing already 

But the next one is slow and sweet and they just hold each other tightly and one or both of them ends up crying softly (i want it to be alex) 

And willie feels a little bit lighter, but he brushes it off as the time spent with Alex, as getting things in order, feeling better about not missing all his chances to just be softly in love

They go home together, still holding hands 

Because willie has a home now 

He spends time with his family, and he has a moment like that with each of them (julie, luke, reggie) 

Their moments probably come before his date with Alex bc Alex is most important but whatever 

With reggie he gets to be himself and he doesn’t have to pretend to be happy all the time. (even though he could be himself with any of them it just feels right with reggie because reggie knows too) They talk about things that happened to them, reggie about his parents and willie about his foster home and caleb. And neither of them feels the need to joke, to paste on a smile, to cover it up. But it isn’t sad, it’s cathartic, they bond and connect. And their moment is when reggie gives them his leather jacket 

With Luke, he gets to be reckless 

They "break in" to places, play pranks (adhd impulsive boys anyone) 

And their moment is when they're out somewhere and catch sight of something and all they need is a shared glance to run over and cause Ghost Antics, just like brothers 

With Julie, they get to be goofy 

They make jokes, use gen z humor, she brings in flynn and they do a fashion show sorta thing, and they end up baking cookies together with a movie in the background 

Neither of them really know how to make cookies, and they turn out terrible, but in the process of making them they get into a food fight (although it doesn’t do much to willie) and julie accidentally spills that she used to bake with her mother but no one would do it with her ever since Rose died, but now that she has willie in her family too she has someone to bake with again

And each of these moments lifts some weight off of his shoulders, but he doesn’t quite realize it 

Then he has his date with Alex 

And the next day, as the jolts get worse, they spend the whole day as a family 

Including Ray and Carlos who have been informed of the ghost situation

They watch movies, build a blanket fort, test his Ghost Powers for Carlos, eat dinner together 

All the while, the jolts get less and less 

Without realizing it, because willie is too caught up having fun with everyone 

After dinner, they bring everyone out to the garage, and perform a song they wrote for willie 

As a goodbye and a thank you and everything else they thought they'd never get time to say 

Everyone gets an individual verse that they wrote themselves to say something to willie, including Ray and Carlos 

Then they all sing the last verse together, and they’re free 

He found a family despite Caleb's best efforts 

They broke free from the brainwashing and misery and false front he had to put up at the hgc 

He loved and was loved, unconditionally 

And (not to get sappy) but that's what breaks through everything 

Not just Caleb's efforts to destroy their soul, but caleb's ownership on it too 

Especially when they've got julie molina on their side

(just to clarify, in this idea the assumption is that Julie can see willie but no other lifers can, either because She Can Just Do That or because of some bs that ill make up later)

[blazedgraysons]

Killing Me Softly

The one where Grayson falls in love in under 12 hours

A/N: Here’s another fic inspired by literally nothing. I am pretty proud of this one though. To all the people who said nice things about Drunk Off You, just know that I read every single one of them and you own my heart and soul. Also, I know literally no one knows who I am but feel free to send asks or messages. I pinky promise to respond. ♡

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x OC (Harlow)

Warnings: nothing really, it’s pretty tame minus a lil angst towards the end. 

“Are you B29?”

Harlow removes an earbud, looking up to meet big brown eyes staring back at her. It’s hard not to notice the rest of the man standing in the aisle.

Brown hair flops over his forehead as she moves her eyes down to appreciate the soft scuff lining his chin - not quite a beard, but not quite stubble. He’s dressed casually in a gym shirt that outlines every single bulging muscle paired with grey sweatpants and some Louis Vuitton slides. She nods slightly to his question, hoping the adonis of a man doesn’t notice that slight blush that’s appeared on her face. He offers her a gracious smile and effortlessly slings his carry-on into the overhead cabin.

“Looks like we’re neighbors then.” Harlow hums in acknowledgment, not sure why he’s so friendly. Most passengers would’ve just grabbed their seat and slept or occupied themselves, but this man intends on making himself known.

He slides into the neighboring seat, and Harlow is instantly overwhelmed. If she thought he looked good from afar, up close was even better. Here she could appreciate all the minute details — the dark mole on his chin, the expensive cologne, the 333 tattoo behind his ear. It took everything in her not to stare, so instead, she settles for quick glances hoping he would be too occupied by his phone to pay her any attention. If he did notice, he spared Harlow further embarrassment by not saying anything. She turns back to her magazine, a random Vogue issue she picked up in the airport convenience store to pass the time, mentally telling herself to calm down in order to get through the next three hours.

“ I’m Grayson, by the way. Just in case we crash, and you need to identify me.” He jokes, smiling widely and — oh shit, does he have a diamond in his tooth? Harlow is so screwed. 

—-

Grayson’s never been a big believer in fate until now. The idea of some external force dictating a situation in your life just seemed like bullshit. Yet, Grayson couldn’t describe meeting Harlow as anything else.

He had been irritated all the way up to that point. An overbooked plane forced him off his original flight and away from his twin brother. Ethan had offered to go with him, but Grayson didn’t see a point in delaying their trip even further and told him he’d meet him in Jersey. While the airline was over apologetic and gave him (terrible) perks, in order to make the next flight, he had to sacrifice his first-class seat for an economy red-eye flight. But at least he had a shitty hot towel to make up for it.

He scowled all the way through the check-in and tarmac, vowing to never fly with JetBlue again as he passed the first-class seats that he couldn’t help but stubbornly think, ‘That should be mine.’

It wasn’t until he reached his row that he realized what he thought was a hindrance was actually a blessing. Because there sitting in the seat next to him was a beauty that could only be described as ethereal. Her long, dark hair tumbles in tight coils down her shoulders as she sits crossed-leg, hunched over a magazine, biting her lip in furrowed concentration. She bobs her head slightly to whatever song she’s listening to as she quickly flips through the pages. She tucks her hair behind her shoulder, revealing blemished copper skin that reflects the light.

A small voice in his head (that suspiciously sounds like Ethan) tells him to stop being weird and talk to her. Before he can justify themillion reasons why he shouldn’t, an annoying cough comes from the lady behind him.

He turns around to glare at her a little and asks the mystery girl her seat number with a smile that he hopes comes off as charming and not predatory.

And fuck, he knows she has to be a blessing because she looks like she was sent straight from the gates of heaven to Grayson’s heart. Ironically, the plane’s fluorescent lights form a halo around her head (‘Or maybe you’re finally losing it.’ Ethan's voice tells him.) He blinks, once, twice, three times before realizing that the girl in front of him isn’t a sleep-deprived hallucination and is actually real. He tries to act unaffected by the slow once-over her round, onyx eyes give him. Still, when he notices her eyes lingering on his chest and thighs, he swallows hard before throwing his suitcase into the overhead and sitting down. 

The grumpy lady behind him gives him a look as she moves down the aisle, and he whips out his phone for a welcomed distraction. The girl, unaware of the havoc she was wreaking on Grayson’s mind and body, continues to sneak looks at him that were a little too obvious for Grayson to not notice. He debates whether or not to ask for her name until she turns back to her magazine and Grayson figures that she doesn’t want to be bothered anymore. It wasn’t until the voice in his head repeatedly calls him a pussy (‘Shut up, Ethan’ he thinks back) that he introduces himself. And when her plump lips turn up into a smile, Grayson pretends to not notice how screwed he is. 

—-

Conversation flows smoothly between the two of them after that. Grayson explains the situation with his original flight and his plans to surprise his mom for mother’s day while Harlow talks about her little brother and the birthday party she helped plan for him this weekend. They talk for so long that their conversation turns from typical discussion to hushed whispers to not disturb the other sleeping passengers. They finally pause for a break when the beverage attendant stops at their row.

Harlow’s honestly glad for the lull in conversation as it gives her time to reflect over what she’s learned. Grayson appears to be very humble despite being heavily involved in the influencer scene in Los Angeles, something Harlow desperately tries to stay far away from herself. Also, despite being one of the hottest guys she’s ever seen, he seems to be so shy that it’s endearing. She notices he stumbles over words, getting so excited about their conversations that he trips himself up.

“So in LA, what do you do for fun? Any friends? Boyfriend?” He asks coolly, trying not to be obvious about his intentions (which makes it so much more apparent in Harlow’s eyes) as he drinks his diet root-beer.

“I work for a high- fashion company doing PR, so I’m always there. I have a couple close friends, but since I’m working so much, I haven’t had that much time for a relationship or finding a guy worth making time for.” Harlow sighs wistfully.

“Ah, that makes sense about the magazine.” He nods, trying to hide his excitement. This situation seems to be working more and more in his favor. “And what guy would be worth making time for?”

“I don’t know honestly. It just seems that all the guys I run into in LA are beyond superficial. All my dates have just been talking about how many followers they have on Instagram or TikTok and just end in hookups. While there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just hard when you want something more, you know?” She shrugs. And as much as Grayson hates to admit it, he does know. Hell, he’s probably been that guy once or twice in his younger years. Still, as he grows older, he craves the same things Harlow does: intimacy, connection, emotion. He takes another swallow of his drink before responding.

“Yeah, I mean hookups and one-night stands are great in the moment, but it’s hard when you just have love you want to give. It’s even harder now that my brother’s dating someone, ya know. Seeing someone you’re close with have what you want; it’s kinda hard not to be jealous.” He shares, hoping she relates and doesn’t think he’s weird for telling so much to someone he met a few hours earlier.

Harlow sits with that for a second before responding, “And what girl would you want to give your love to?” She whispers.

’Someone like you.’ Grayson thinks. But before he could make the bold confession, the plane announces its descent.

——

Grayson realizes almost immediately that he wasn’t paying that much attention to the flight details because the fact that there was a layover in Colorado flew over his head. He lets Harlow pass by him to stand in the aisle and grabs both his and her carry-on to take off the plane. As Grayson stands behind her (and tries not to stare at how incredible her ass looks in her leggings), he does what he’s best at: forming a game-plan. He realizes that a girl like Harlow is too good to let go. So, he figures he could grab a coffee with her, get her number, and plan a date for when they both are back in LA. He smiles, already thinking of the story he’ll get to tell Ethan when he gets to Jersey. As they both slowly move into the terminal, Harlow turns back to Grayson with a bright smile. He smiles back before asking —

“Do you want to get coffee?” He can’t help his heart from swelling as she bites her lip, a habit he notices she does a lot.

“Good, I thought you weren’t going to ask.” She laughs. “Wait here though, I have to run to the restroom.”

He nods, handing Harlow her carry-on. He sits down and pulls out his phone, already texting Ethan that he met his future soulmate.

Five minutes pass: He’s got the future planned out: the wedding, the kids, the farmland in Jersey and the tiny-home in Australia.

Ten minutes pass: He starts to get worried, but figures Harlow can handle herself.

Thirty minutes pass: He considers sending someone to the bathroom to check on her.

Two hours passed: He’s already cased the domestic airline terminal twice, looking for her dark curly hair. 

It’s not until the final call of flight 437-A to New Jersey that he understands: Harlow’s not coming back for him. And he can’t help it when his heart splits into two.

[im-a-space-gay]

Some Notes for the Mix-Matched AU (aka the slow burn Analogical AU where Logan’s the school punk and Virgil’s the school nerd)

Logan Croft-

Resident punk

Tol boi, and I mean real tol with the muscles

He wears contacts because he’s found some people don’t take him serious when he wears glasses

When he was younger, he was very smart and wanted to learn everything, but he found out it wasn’t smarts that would help him survive, but being intimidating, and most people didn’t find it intimidating when he kept correcting them. Therefore, he stopped trying to learn and just went with the flow

Somehow hasn’t been kicked out of a single school despite allegedly “starting” fights and always being disruptive

Anger issues for daaaaaayyyyss

He has ear piercings, nose piercings tongue piercings, you name it, he’s got it.

Also has a couple tattoos which are awesome

He has somehow got in a group with people from different teenage cultures and will gladly die for them. He even brings lil babey nerd into the group and yay they’re all happier!!

Can and will debate about anything and everything, which is really fun

Virgil Storm-

The embodiment of not only all knowledge in the world, but the panicked thoughts of swear words repeating

He didn’t really care if he wore glasses or contacts, but found glasses more manageable and has a giant pair he pushes up constantly

See tol boi Logan? Well I present smol boi Virgil. He was just barely the average height, and literally had noodle arms

As a kid, he once almost failed a class because he thought learning would be boring, and therefore didn’t try. When he realized he was about to flunk, he studied hard and found the stuff he was learning... interesting?? And he remembered it?? Then he started doing the same for all his classes and wow learning was incredible!! There was so much to learn and see and do and mark his words he was going to learn it all!

After he started getting bullied for being smart and weak, he wore makeup so nobody saw the bruises. If nobody knew, nobody would bother him, so he could read for longer!

Not really used to people caring about him, so it was a big shock when this big punk came out of nowhere to help him out, and then let him hang out with his ragtag group, filled with more caring people.

He also didn’t really talk a lot at first, because he has a really bad habit of info-dumping or ranting, and nobody wanted to hear what he knew. Then one day at lunch, Patton asked him why the periodic table of elements was arranged the way it was, and what was supposed to be a small answer became an info-dumping session, and when he snapped out of it, he realized how everyone at the table was staring at him in shock. Apparently they didn’t know he could talk so much, so they’ve made it their mission to try and trigger sessions like that because Virgil seemed really happy when he did it

Also when he reads, he has a habit of either not hearing what’s happening around him at all, or having a conversation without realizing. (Not only have the others found this as a good way to trigger a rant, but also Roman quotes musicals and plays and sees if Virgil finishes it so he knows how many Virgil knows of)

Janus Smith-

Snek emo boyo

Wears an unholy amount of makeup and black clothes

Suicide jokes baaaaaabyyyy

He sometimes wears a symbol of a two headed snake, and when asked about it, gives an answer completely unrelated to it

Sometimes, he wears colorful clothes to trigger other emos or to throw everybody off

Beneath all the emo-ness, sarcasm, suicidal tendencies and black, he was a gentle, kind soul

And even further beneath that was a giant asshole

Patton Hart-

Skirts and dresses? Yes. Pastel colors? Yes. Floral print? THOSE WERE TO DIE FOR!!

A fashionista inside and out

Tried to wear boy clothing once. That is a day that shall not be named nor referenced, as it was traumatizing for all involved

Big round glasses, because those go with everything! (He even has versions of his glasses with colored lenses because those were so pretty!!)

Freckles on his nose, and as cute as they were, he will not hesitate to cover them in makeup if they didn’t fit with the outfit for the day

No, he is not a girl, and would appreciate if guys stopped mistaking him for one

Sweet and lovable, but he can and will kill a bitch with his heels if you insult or hurt anyone in his crew, including himself because he mattered

Speaking of his crew, he tries real hard not to help them with their horrible fashion tastes. Logan? Did everything need to be ripped and have bold statements on them? Janus? Beautiful face even with heterochromia and virtilago, but he keeps covering it up with tacky, horribly applied makeup that was ONLY BLACK. And don’t even get him started on when he wore colors!! What is this, a Disney Channel movie? Roman sometimes wore old costumes from school productions he did, which no. Remus was relatively fine, EXCEPT HE WORE THE SAME THING EVERYDAY AND DIDN’T TAKE IT OFF UNTIL THE WEEKEND, WHICH SMELLED HORRIBLE, MIND YOU. Virgil only wore jackets and jeans, and by far drove Patton the least insane with fashion, but the jacket he wore was black, torn up, oversized, and the worst thing, PLAID (he was planning on replacing it, secretly)

Does he cry?? No one knows

Roman Royal-

DISNEY AND THEATER KID, LET’S GO

Quotes from many different things, and bursts out into song randomly

“Not to be gay, but...”

Does many things in theater from playing a part to running around on backstage. He is theater god.

Sometimes he wears costumes from old productions (the ones in a more modern setting though. He’s not gay enough to walk around the halls in a prince outfit. He only does that at home)

Can’t fight for the life of him, but he can sure gossip

Way too loud, but can you blame him?

Remus Royal-

“I am but a mere jock, making fun of my fellow jocks and basically beating them up, being a delinquent but seen as a hero.” “I only asked what your favorite color was.” “Oh. Green.”

Acts as childish as you’d expect

Signs up for any and all sports no matter what

As much as he loves being an idiot with his fellow sports players, he much rather prefers hanging out with the group of misfits purely because they can all be themselves without judgement (he stands corrected. Apparently it was weird when he triggered Virgil into explaining the sex of unicorns and penguins)

Weird ass nicknames for his friendos on his phone. Roman was Ronbow, Janus was Kill or be Killed, Patton was Stabby-Feet, Logan was Propagayda, and Virgil was Answerkey

Dabs

THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE, WHY DID WE LEAVE REMUS TO COOK OH GOD OH NO HE TRIED COOKING ONE OF ROMAN’S PROPS WITH PATTON’S MINI PINK SKIRT AND OH SHIT OH FUCK VIRGIL’S ON FIRE SOMEONE CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT (this was an actual event, and Remus got the fury of Roman for charring his favorite sword, Patton for ruining his skirt, Logan for somehow setting the nerd on fire, had to deal with Virgil being nonverbal for three weeks thanks to the trauma, and a Janus who recorded the entire event without showing a single emotion)

[pinkyhaert]

Nutcracker month 2020 by @artsynoova

Day 10: { Benjamin &.... Yuri!? } (ft. Ghostwire.)

{ Here have a flipping story because my brain just WENT with it when I wrote this; Scroll down for the art ;3c }

~ Hollyberry entered the next world as he did the others, unaware of the particularly dastardly surprise awaiting him. The world had a similar set up to that of Auran’s World. Especially the big theater looming in the background. Hollyberry was half expecting to have to dance the ballet again.. something he wasn’t exactly looking forward too.. ah well. At least he’s had the practice for it.

Inside the Theater, everything was worn out and old looking, not to mention practically pitch Black. The poor little Brave could barely see his Servo in front of his Optics! It was times like these he wished he still had his headlights.. as strange as that may sound. As he Went deeper into the Dreary looking theatre.. He couldn’t help but get the feeling he was being watched...

Two Glowing magenta Eyes Watched from shadows of the curtains.. waiting patiently for the unsuspecting nutcracker to set off his delightful trap he had set for him. This Plan will surely put a stop to Holly’s Meddling in his grand scheme.

As if on cue, The Lights of the theater turned on and shone on The Brave in the center stage. In the next instance by making a Dramatic entrance in a puff of purple smoke- A Phantom Appeared before the Brave in all its Mysterious and spooky splendor. ~

Phantom: “ FOOLISH WOODEN DOLL!! YOU’VE FALLEN RIGHT INTO MY GRASP!!”

Hollyberry, Slowly raising his Servo up to correct them: “ um.. Actually I’m made of metal-”

Phantom: “ I Care Not of any Detail you suggest Commoner’ ”

Hollyberry: “ Ah.”

Phantom: “ All the Intrests Me is What You have to Offer the Great and Powerful Phantom”

Hollyberry; raising an eyebrow in an Unamused manner: “ Oh? and what Might that be?”

Phantom: “ The Core that keeps you running and fighting and despite all odds against you, your ‘Soul’ If you will. Give it to me.”

Hollyberry; Blatantly: “ No.”

Phantom: “ I thought You’d say that you stubborn little Bratt. So I’m willing to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

~ With the snap of their fingers, two Chambers that looked like miniature stages came down from the ceiling. At once they opened, revealing two of the missing nutcrackers Dressed to impress awaiting inside. It was the nutcracker of this world, Benjamin! and... Yuri!? What’s he doing here And so far away from his home!? Either way he had to help them!

But before Hollyberry could react, The two jumped down and surrounded him. Something was clearly Wrong- And the Masks on their faces proved it. Without warning they tried to subdue him, barely giving him a chance to dodge their attacks. He could tell they didn’t what to attack him however, with the look in their eyes betraying their true emotions on the matter.. but they were powerless to resist the Phantom’s Control.

With another snap of the Phantom’s fingers they obediently returned to his side in their mini stage chambers. Hollyberry whipped around with a Growl as he glared at the phantom with furry in his optics. If there was one thing Holly hated, it was the thought of being controlled to hurt others- especially with your consciousness still intact. ~

Hollyberry: “ RELEASE THEM; NOW!!”

Phantom: “ Only if you win a little wager~”

~ The Seats in the audience suddenly were filled with different shadowy beings and creatures Holly couldn’t make out as they cheered for the phantom and boooed at him. ~

Phantom: “ If you can put on a better performance then both me and my ‘bodyguards’ and survive~ I’ll release your friends. If I win the crowds cheers however, well.. you know how the play goes. So little nutcracker; We got a Deal?”

~ Before holly even had the chance to speak A New Figure burst from the rafters and Landed onto center stage, Causing the crowd to let out a Gasp of surprise. Hollyberry couldn’t believe his optics as he stared at the newcomer who glared down the Phantom before speaking without hesitation. ~

Ghostwire: “ Your Gonna regret you EVER Crossed Our Path you pathetic excuse for a Specter! Bring it On!”

Hollyberry; Astounded: “Rairakkurōzu!! What are you doing here?”

Ghostwire: “ You really think I’m gonna let some random Punk Bully my lil bro? I’d snap All his limbs in half if he even TRIED-”

Phantom: 0_0 💧

Hollyberry: “ Happy to see you too.” ^-^

Ghostwire; Cracking her knuckles while giving death glares to the phantom: “ Let’s show this phony phantom what makes You and me ‘Unique’ to the nutcracker Clan”

Hollyberry: “Alright!”

*music begins to play*

Phantom: “ W..Wait a moment.. That’s not Christmas Music-”

Both Hollyberry & Ghostwire: “ Nope :)”

——————

———-

The song: ( Again, not sang by me- )

———-

Hollyberry; Holding Ghostwire back: “ Wait- WAIT Ghosty it’s Okay They’re Back to normal Now” 💦

Ghostwire; About to YEET a Table: “ You sure? Pretty sure I still saw some evil left.”

Hollyberry: “ I’m sure..put the table down.”

Ghostwire: “ Fine..”

Benjamin & Yuri: /// Scary.../// 💧

Hollyberry: “ Um.. anyways, Are you two alright?”

Benjamin: “ Much better now that we aren’t under that Phantoms control and can move freely, thanks for the help Holly.”

Hollyberry: “ That’s good.. these monsters are getting a little harder to fight as time goes on..”

Yuri: “ But where did those things keep coming from?”

Hollyberry: “ I Have a General idea.. But you both shouldn’t be worrying about that. You should be focused on helping your worlds.”

Ghostwire: “ And Don’t worry about Deckerd-”

Hollyberry: “ Holly.”

Ghostwire: “-Holly. Me and a few others will keep an eye out for him. Speaking of which, I gotta go and find Flow and Fedelis now- who knows what shenanigans they’ve gotten themselves Into.”

Hollyberry: “ Haha understandable, Good luck Rairakkurōzu.”

Benjamin: “ If you need any help on Your journey, Just give us a call-”

Yuri: “-And we’ll come lend you a hand for a change!”

Hollyberry: “ Thanks, I appreciate it.” ^_^

———-

{ Just a friendly note to the beans included:

To Nova: I’ve been having such a fun time coming up with this storyline for the nutcracker month this year and I feel honored to be included in the list! So I wanted to do something special like last year, but with a storyline twist cause’ your special ^_^

To AJ: I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it to yuri this year so I wanted to do him a bit eailer than expected~ Surprise!!

To Ghosty: Y’all didn’t think I’d make it this far in an epic adventure and not include The Buff Goth ‘Clara’ of Holly’s Storyline, Did you? Big sister Ghosty is here to take names and claim souls for anyone who messes with her lil’ bro. }

———

Benjamin belongs to @artsynoova

Yuri belongs to @ahjones94

Ghostwire belongs to @cyberghost-scout

Hollyberry & Fudge belong to me :3c

[itsmeevie01]

MLB Secret Santa 2020!

Hey, @kaijuusandkryptids! I’m your secret santa this year. A little identity reaveal is heading your way! :)

@mlsecretsanta

a side note, to clear it up a lil, in this everyone is aged up and in University. Marinette (in this . i’m not sure how realistic this is...) skipped a few grades because i wanted her to...

Marinette flopped down into her bed, exhaustion taking over as she sunk into the mattress. It was just after the sun had gone down, and the teen had been up for over 24 hours, hunting the never-ending flow of Akumas that had started a week ago.

Enjoy!

At first, she had thought that it was just Hawkmoth being petty, but now the girl had a different idea. Now, she had a feeling that two people were using the Butterfly Miraculous. The differences had been small at first, obviously the second person had been given instructions. Then they had started to understand the miraculous the way the first Hawkmoth never could. Akumas were getting stronger, faster, and smarter. This change in MO, however, had led Marinette to narrowing down her search fields for the magic villain(s).

Marinette’s brain protested at the idea of adding what she had figured out to her list. Groaning, the girl patted the comforter around her until she found her phone. Sending a text to herself, making sure that she used the guardian language, Marinette let her exhaustion take over. Sleep was the only thing that would help her now.

The next morning, Marinette tumbled out of bed close to 10. Her eyes squinted against the bright light coming in from her skylight, and she pulled a pillow over her head to try to go back to sleep before giving up. When her feet touched the floor, she cringed in pain. She may not have been without her suit for much of the last week, but when she was using the miraculous so intensely as often as she had, Marinette knew that it was taking a toll on her body. She also knew that the healing properties that Paris relied on, had started to pass over her, leaving the noirette with more and more injuries after each akuma battle. With a week straight of fights, the teen was aching for a vacation that she had been unable to take for three years.

After pulling on a skirt and switching her sleep shirt for a top that sat just off one shoulder, the 17-year-old reached for her phone. She knew she had plans at some point this summer, and they were going to be…oh. Her plans were for today. Knocking on her desk for good luck, even when you carry luck herself in your purse, it never hurts to be too careful, Marinette pulled her hair into a ponytail and curled the ends, trying to at least pretend to try today. When the teen took a glance in the mirror, for the first time really looking at her face, she froze. There, on her face, was a sunburn. A sunburn that looked a little too much like it followed the outline of her mask to be anything else. Shit.

For the most part, this wouldn’t be a problem, if Marinette wasn’t getting ready to go meet Chloe and Kagami. If she was going to see almost anyone else, it would be fine, but the girls, her best friends, also happened to be Empress Honey and Ryuko. These girls were her team.

The scream that had rocked the Grand Paris Hotel had scared many of the patrons. The girl that the cry of distress had originated from was standing in her bathroom, enjoying the first morning in over a week that she had to herself, until she looked in the mirror. The blonde’s eyes went huge as she gaped at the sunburn that was sitting rudely on her cheeks. The sun freckles were cute, the heiress could deal with them. She could handle the natural highlights she got from being outside all the time, but the teen hero could not handle the sunburn that would immediately out her as being one of the kids running over the rooftops in colorful costumes. This. This was not good.

Kagami knew that being out in the sun would cause a sunburn and had made sure to carry sunscreen at first. After the first day, however, the fencer had decided that it would be easier to just change her suit. Now, the girl had a hood that used magic to keep her entire face in shadow. The girl had a feeling that the others hadn’t thought about the ramifications of the sun, and she knew that the reactions and aftermath would be entertaining in the least.

The Agreste Mansion was quiet, as it had been all summer. Adrien had seen two other people in his father’s house. The Gorilla, who was taking him to all of the commitments that his father had planned for him, and Natalie’s new assistant Kirra. The quite brunette was kind to him and would sneak the (too) skinny teen extra helpings when she could. Besides the two adults that the 19-year-old knew were tasked with his care, Adrien had lost all Gabriel sanctioned contact after he had moved on to university the year before. With so many online courses, the model had become a prisoner in his own home.

Of course, Gabriel Agreste didn’t know that his son was Chat Noir. He also didn’t know that the boy had been sneaking out since he was 15. As Adrien stretched and stumbled towards his bathroom, his feet protested. The hero had been active for almost a week with no reprieve. Now, he just hoped that he hadn’t missed to many events, or his father might start to take notice. When he opened the door and fumbled for the lights, the blonde froze. Staring back at him was his reflection. His very sunburnt reflection.

When the heroes saw the akuma alert show up on their phones, they all groaned. For just one day, they wanted to be able to relax. It would be nice to follow through with commitments and see their friends and family. Instead they found themselves, once again, making excuses to go transform and continue a battle that was starting to feel endless.

When Marinette, Adrien, Chloe, Kagami, and Luka met up for coffee later that week, three out of the five were sporting very telling sunburns. It didn’t help that the Miraculous team had finished a fight less than an hour before. All of the young heroes were exhausted but had promised themselves that they would push through their exhaustion to see their friends. When they had collapsed at their table, each clutching a cup of coffee like it was the last thing keeping them standing (it was). The security that came with being around friends, people that they trust, led to the group collectively letting their guard down. Their delayed reactions to the matching sunburns was expected but would embarrass them for years to come.

Marinette had just shaken her head at Chloe, muttering a “of course we both goofed.”. Chloe had gapped at the youngest of the group, shock obvious on her face as she connected the dots. Adrien had seen Chloe’s face, the bright red that the heiress had tried to hide, and practically squealed. The unintelligible onslaught of excitement from the model had caused Chloe to look over at her friend and screech. It was at this point that Kagami and Marinette agreed to move their get together to Luka’s apartment.

As soon as the door shut, Chloe turned to Marinette. “You. You are Ladybug.” The complete confidence in the statement made Marinette smile slightly. She knew there was a reason she had chosen Chloe for her bee. The way both Kagami and Adrien whipped their heads to look at the girl, it was clear that they hadn’t put it together. Luka just chuckled and shook his head.

“It took you long enough, Chloe. I’ve know Mari was Ladybug since the first time I met her.” The looks of shock that his friends sent him made the oldest shrug. “I can hear everyone’s soul song. It isn’t that hard to figure it out.” Kagami blinked as she processed the information. The realization that Luka must know her secret identity as well made the girl freeze. Next to her, Adrien was looking back and forth between Marinette and Luka, confused.

“Wait, but, no, I…How?” Marinette laughed slightly at the look of shock on her friend’s face. As the boy gaped at her, she studied him, before shaking her head. She had started to suspect that Chat Noir was her only friend that she didn’t think would suit the miraculous in her box, but the confusion and shock, paired with his matching sunburn, had sealed the deal for her.

“I picked Luka to be Viperion years ago”. The response was quiet. Her words however, made them all fall silent. “He was the first one that I made permanent. I needed the ability to have another set of hands. And,” here, the girl sends Luka a glare, “I needed someone to tell me when I was dying. Someone just happens to be exceptionally bad at remembering to tell me.” The musician scowled in response, the expression out of place on his face in his friends’ minds. Marinette simply raise an eyebrow, obviously very used to his reaction. Chloe was the first to break the silence.

“wait, Marinette. YOU chose the other holders?” the shock in her voice shook Kagami and Adrien from their shocked stupor. While Kagami narrowed her eyes, Adrien shook his head.

“that’s…that’s not possible.” Chloe’s head snapped to look at her oldest friend.

“what do you mean, it’s not possible?”

“Marinette. You. Ladybug. Couldn’t have chosen me. Right? It. That just doesn’t line up?” the uncertainty in the boy’s voice made Chloe pause, and Marinette wince.

“I…no. Adrien. You are one of three wielders that are currently active that I didn’t choose. If. If it makes you feel better? The other two are the reason that we are fighting.” Chloe stomped her foot in frustration, her blue eyes blazing.

“How are you so calm? Your secret identity was just outed! Because of a sunburn! And it was outed to people who have been akumatized before!” Marinette simply smiled and shook her head.

“I was going to tell you, all of you, soon anyways. Because we are close to Hawkmoth’s identity, and I wanted you to know.” The looks of shock on everyone’s faces made her smile. “Adrien would have been the first to know though.” Luka looked at her in confusion.

“Mari, wait. I thought you said Chat was- oh.” The guardian smiled as she watched her friends digest what they had heard and put the rest of the pieces together.

Three weeks later

Marinette smiled as Adrien settled into to his normal spot on her floor, a book in front of him. even before the accidental sunburn fiasco, the two had taken to hanging out when the model could get away. Now though, there was no pretense. The blonde would drop down the girl’s skylight and settle on her chaise while she finished whatever she was working on. Earlier that day, Adrien had appeared toting a bag of books. The bag was huge and was obviously straining under the weight of the textbooks the boy had come to drop off for his friend. The girl had spent the last few weeks working diligently with Kagami to piece together the clues on Hawkmoth’s identity. As their list continued to be narrowed down, Marinette had started sending Adrien worried looks, but the teen had resigned himself to what he suspected was coming. While his friend worked to organize the proof they needed, he had started to run errands for her. If he accidentally left her money behind and used is instead when he did things like pick up her university textbooks for the fall semester, well. Marinette was a little busy right now.

I may go back and add a part two, but as of now, this is a stand alone...

[a-lil-perspective]

Hunter x Reader

A/N: What nobody asked for. I didn’t think a title would be appropriate for this particular piece of work. It really doesn’t coincide with any Star Wars themes, save for everybody’s favorite Sergeant making his debut within. It’s more of a Lil perspective. (Lol I’m sorry my last two brain cells have no sense of humor) For context: I have been absolutely suffocating lately, in every sense of the word. It’s almost indescribably oppressive, so I wrote this in desperately seeking comfort and therapy. Just a fragmented depiction, addresses underlying mental health issues and sensory disorders—in carrying my own subtle semblance of it, I love exploring those complexities with Hunter. It turns out soft. I think. Also, if you squint hard enough, you will see some song lyrics scattered throughout the fic in the form of thoughts. I wrote this in the format of Reader, though it’s practically a self-insert, I’m just not brave enough for those particular pronouns. :) Sorry in advance if this doesn’t apply to you...

▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️

Isn’t anyone trying to find me... Won’t somebody come take me home...

The silence was prodding. Hunter’s gaze darted to your tense form numerous times over the span of several painfully long, anticipating minutes. Each time, your lips remained pulled into a tight line while your extremities fidgeted in repetition. Agitation hung thick in the air. A terse statement of Y/N’s mystics echoed off the walls, to no-one in particular.

“I think... I’ve been gone for a long time.”

Hunter’s eyes incredulously searched you. “What do you mean?”

You see me standing, but I’m dying on the floor...

Your fists reflexively clench in grabbing at any semblance of weight to prevent your form from being dragged down into the mental abyss. You could feel it’s foreboding pull. It’s impending chaos.

It’s coming.

“Talk to me, Y/N...”

Your grip slackens, and you slip right over the edge. Hunter is too late to grab you.

I only want to die alive...

Your broken, unbridled guttural cries in response to the months of overwhelming emotional suppression caused Hunter to wince, and his own sensory receptors gain enough momentum to inwardly complain. He instinctively stuffs it down before kicking into action.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m here—”

Electric. The touch. His touch. It pricked, and the very fine hairs adorning the skin along your arms instantly retaliated to the calloused padding of Hunter’s fingertips caressing. It exacerbated your state of distress and just like that, your neurons overloaded. Sharp, stale air seeped in between your grit teeth and inhalation of insecurity.

Your sudden intake of breath and harsh flinch caused Hunter to cease in brushing up and down the outer region of your upper arms. His eyes narrowed slightly and quickly picked apart your stance. It greeted him like an old adversary with the remnants of a longstanding history, and a discomfiture swirled around Hunter at it’s painful familiarity.

“I can’t do this...” You breathe out despair.

The existing in general? The physical connection itself?

The latter wasn’t your fault. But it sure as hell felt like it. It certainly wasn’t his fault. Thankfully, somehow, the glint in Hunter’s shifting irises reassured you that he was privy to your suffering, to some degree; he knew. He understood.

Of course he did.

For who to better understand heightened tactile sensitivity than Sergeant Hunter of Clone Force 99? He was neither confounded nor dissuaded by your particularity in the slightest.

It had always been an inherence of yours; a rather obnoxious caricature within the conundrum, some obscure accessory buried in your already heavily packed bags. An extra ingredient that completely screwed up the recipe. Constituted as awkward, plain and simple; the dramatized detail never became easier to address with age, and the thick lump of disdain in your throat only grew.

You set your jaw in frustration. How to even begin picking up and putting together the pieces of a person who’s constantly missing one, or several. You were never satiated, equanimity never extended it’s stay for long; simply just renting. There was always something, someone, leaving a smoking hole in your chest, forcing every euphoric guest out.

I seek to cure what’s deep inside... frightened of this thing that I’ve become...

Your features twisted in agony and discomfort that accompanied the stoked episodes. It made you bitter. It threw you to the streets and dubbed you a martyr before satirically exposing, taunting at the misfortune of your dealt deck of cards. It was downright embarrassing, obtruding. Trepidations instantaneously trampled your meager, sensory overloaded form each and every time. Your bitter, corrosive laugh was all the evidence in that moment; a feeble reminder of your hypocrisy.

Because how, pray tell, does one’s physicality simultaneously experience both a revulsion for tactility and desperate craving for touch itself? You never understood exactly the way the two collided and contradicted themselves. Your teeth clamped your tongue in quelling the deprivation and plea for more rising in your throat, while your neurons worked to whisk your form as far away from the man as possible—away to the repetition of obsolete emptiness and desolation awaiting to greet you. As always.

“Let me help, cyare.” Begging... the man was hurting for you.

Don’t want to say yes, don’t want to say no...

Your mind ached. You can’t stop the pendulum in your head. Forced to look through a kaleidoscope of melancholy. Pleas echoed in a cavernous empty shell, but fell on deaf ears. Tears cancelled their appointment, and the well currently ran dry. There was... nothingness. And you fought the growing complaisance with the notion. Numbness was terrifying, and being terrified was numbing. You didn’t do well with attitudinal changes, seeking restitution more than ever while you wholly acknowledged the aspect of a ginger touch; the literal power within one’s fingertips to effectively mitigate your suffering. An opportune moment standing before you, his brows furrowed in sympathy and the corner of his lips angled in assuring you of his patience.

But the sharp pang and quick successions of staccato rhythm reverberated deep in your chest and only exaggerated your pain. Curse your heavy heart. A huff of breath incited subtle movement in the loose strands hanging over your profile, to which Hunter borrowed a moment in reaching out to sweep the curtain back.

Your head was under water, yet... you were breathing just fine. You just had yet to find the damned drain to expel the pernicious and suffocating sea of psychological terror into.

I just need to clear my head... don’t let it go to your head...

You quiver under Hunter’s intense appraisal, and shame swirls thickly. “I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be. Please.” He immediately interjects, his palm turns upright and opens invitingly. “I’m here. Tell me what you need.”

Just tell him what you need.

“I... I don’t know.” Your admission speaks in a whisper of loss and uncertainty. You roll the flesh of your bottom lip between your teeth, the lump returns to your throat, and it’s crawling. Your gaze flickers.

“Just focus on me, cyare.”

Another catch: you can’t maintain eye contact to save your life. Kriff your soul. “That won’t work.” Your eyes anchor to the cold floor as sheer panic and the sturdy walls themself began to rise around your trembling self.

I can’t come alive... I want the room to take me under... Feel myself fading away...

“Okay—it’s okay,” he soothes. Hunter fervently wracks his brain—the way he decompresses and approaches his own form of stimming is slightly different; it’s different for everybody with a hyperactive response to stimuli. It took the Sergeant years to cultivate those particular penchants and even longer to tailor and perfect them to his predilection. If anything, he felt slightly apprehensive in the success of his methods.

Your hands that now wrap tightly around your rigid form are currently the only familiar pair of hands granted permission to access the area. You give a brief squeeze and teeter on the balls of your feet.

Hunter didn’t require a sniper’s nonpareil eyesight to see right through your peculiarity, even if he was briefly taken aback at it’s sudden effervescing. Truthfully, he should’ve picked up on it days ago: at your fierce denial and subtle panic over Hunter’s harmless offer of a massage after you had worked out a particularly stubborn knot kinking his lower back—a simple requite of mutuality, or so he thought. At the time, the Sergeant found himself shrouded in enigma over your reaction; seriously, who—other than him who barely tolerates it—doesn’t enjoy massages? It now made perfect sense. He fought the urge to self-deprecate over his ignorance.

“I’m suffocating, Hunter.” You choke, and the cadence of your voice is like a knife twisting into his heart; he gleans vicarious pain from your own.

Clarity suddenly lights up the Sergeant’s features, and you’re briefly hyper-fixated with the way the inky but slightly faded outline of his shadowy tattoo fluctuates in natural contortion with his many facial expressions. Just behind his eyes he beholds his brothers—

‘I’m suffocating, ori’vod’...

Hunter remembers...

Of the exact way he presses against Tech in order to smother his vod’ika’s fleeting bouts of anxiousness—the pressure nearly breaking the kid’s goggles on more than one occasion, and the way he compresses Crosshair’s shoulders in squeezing out the pent up anger to placate amidst the sniper’s wavering, and the position of which Hunter managed to encompass his brawny brother in a comforting embrace whenever the big guy experienced despondency—that is until Wrecker quickly outgrew his ori’vod and began flaunting his own prowess of overpowering hugs.

The difference between the scenarios was minimal. Hunter knew exactly what to do. Like second-nature to him, his nurturing instincts fully kicked in and determination spread through every fiber of his being, quashing the previous buzz of his own nerves.

Hunter didn’t know how well he could alleviate your emotional pain, but there was something he could do for the neurological aspect, and hopefully, one could ease the other...

Hunter ambles up to you and in one swift motion, secures the length of his arms around your upper back, noting the delineate contour of toned muscles and shoulder blades poking into his forearms that now drape across before his hands encircle and come to firmly rest on each shoulder. Firmness. Pressure—for your state, this depiction is key. He determinedly pulls you to him, unrelenting in a tight grip. The position of the crown of your head settled neatly under his chin, and stray hair peppered his textured features with tickling kisses as Hunter dips his head to softly press his lips to your roots.

I wish that I could bring you back to me...

With your face suddenly buried in the man’s chest, you come to distinctly acknowledge two immediate sensations. One; the man is warm. Not the muggy, stuffy warmth of Tatooine that is unpleasantly abrasive and dry; but a soft warmth that permeates, stoking memories of baked goods within the cushion of a heated oven warmly enveloping you each time it’s doors open, and seeking to melt the hardened encasing that is your tense muscles. It eases you towards a serenity. You have a ways to go before you can make out the sign in the distance, but Hunter himself is one step forward along the path.

Two; he smells amazing. A faint smoky sultry, an obscurely mesquite scent, slightly tangy and reminiscent of raw timber that is both luxurious and intoxicating; a sweet smell you’d classify as anything but cloying. Like he bathes with suds of fresh mountain air and luscious forests. It’s soothing, and your mind immediately associates the tangibility with a daydream and mercifully blesses you with the glimpse; of your husband having just entered your cozy homestead from a day of hard but fruitful labor in his intricate works of carpentry within the serene seclusion of temperate countryside enveloping your favorite planet—

Handle with care... say you’ll be there...

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, cyare—is this okay?” Hunter momentarily shifts and the rich baritone of the Sergeant’s voice resounding through his broad chest reels you back while he briefly tenses at your pending answer.

It was okay—your head was still swimming in an infinitely deep ocean of thoughts, but the way his hand slips from it’s position on your shoulder to cradle the back of your head before curling around the soft locks equates to the physical manifestation of a life preserver cast to your drowning form.

Your muffled confirmation and sheepish thanks warmly enveloped Hunter, as did your hands shifting to wrap around his broad frame in reciprocation. His grip tightened, and he patiently waits for you.

Hold.... Hold on... Hold on to me, ‘cause I’m a little unsteady...

Hunter refrains from trailing to stroke further along your back; the sneaking suspicion that the sensation might further tip off your nerves. So he remained stationary, and deciphered the way you seemingly favored a firm, weighted grasp and a grounding touch over ghosting fingertips and light, feathery textures. He could relate to that.

But Hunter couldn’t stop the hum of contentment that escaped his lips at your fingers having absentmindedly wandered up to twirl at his ebony tresses. He, personally, loved your soft, well-placed strokes full of deliberation and meaning, and only you were allowed to grace him with them.

Hunter could feel your heart hammering against the veil of his blacks, and his ears hearkened to the rhythm of your burdened breaths. He shifted his weight and began to gently sway with you, unsure of the words to say.

“I should’ve told you earlier,” your conscience suddenly prods.

A snort fills the air. “Oh, I would’ve figured it out soon enough. I’m kinda smart like that,” Hunter cringes at his corny sense of humor, but he swore the faintest of chortles rumbled beneath him.

He grants a final squeeze to your shoulders, careful to avoid the sensitive areas along your arms, before pulling back to address your face. Trouble and distress still graced you, and Hunter laced his fingers with your own. He thumbed at the worn flesh encasing your defined knuckles, a relic indicative of steadfast manual labor. You slowly exhaled at the touch; pressure along the palms and backside of your hands was soothing to you. You often wrung them to keep preoccupied when there was no warmth to solidify the muscle, fingertips drummed erratic tempos along your thighs whenever the mood struck, and loud cracking of the stiff joints in transient tics was a regularly becoming thing.

Take me by the hand, take me somewhere new...

Hunter tugged lightly in ushering you to the cot, firmly planting himself on the worn, creaking edge before his gaze met yours in awaiting approval. If he blinked, he would’ve missed the barely perceptible nod of your head in confirmation. Hunter leaned back on his full weight in gesturing you with him, and your form followed suit as you found yourself abruptly layered directly atop the rugged plains of his chest. The quirk of his lips told you he didn’t mind being used as a body pillow. Hunter’s arms suddenly turned up empty to rest above his head.

“I want you to be comfortable. No brushing. Just tell me where to put my hands.” He clarified, and appreciation bubbled in your chest. You contemplated for a moment.

“Just... hold me close.” You began to guide his hands to the exact position. “Please.”

His limbs obeyed by wrapping snugly as a hand found rest at the small of your back, and the other nestled itself slightly higher up the expanse, fingers splayed. Hunter solidified the closed space, and not even a muted ray of light could pass between the two forms.

You found solace within the cage of well-endowed muscle, slowly suppressing your nerves on each side and physically shielding you from the works of mental oppression. But his touch left you hyperaware; from an overtly suffocating insecurity towards every part of your body now lingering against his own, to the precise and tranquil thrum of his heartbeat in contrast with your racing one. Your stimuli sparks again in response to the stress.

“Y/N.” Hunter cuts through your tension, his voice laced with concern—you cannot calm yourself down, and you’re certain your mind absolutely loathes you. “Everything will be alright, I promise—don’t tense up, baby. Relax against me.” You angle your head so that one side of your face plants to his chest; you wish to better hear his sturdy heartbeat. You suddenly remember your own. It’s still beating. Resounding; indicative of purpose. Your breaths; symbolizing life.

Just keep breathing... my air...

“That’s it. Just breathe.” Hunter encourages. He reaches up to press against your temple in stroking at the hairline. Unbound locks cascaded around each other, a mixture of two colors softly tangled on either sides of the furniture. You lost count of your numbered breaths in the midst of solitude when a question unveils from your thoughts.

“How do you do it?” Your words trump the stagnant silence, a desperate inquiry that peaks through the fibers. You tilt your chin to better regard the man.

Confusion tugs at the corner of Hunter’s lips. “Do, what?”

“Anything...” you unload, and there’s a crackle to your voice. “The stress, the sensory... how do you manage? What’s your anchor in this wretched, kriffing life?”

A smile creeps up Hunter’s features, and his deep, reflective pools burn through you. “I’m looking at my anchor. And she helps me manage just fine.”

Your eyes blow protuberant and you manage to stare at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“Honey, you are it.” His satisfied smirk grows wider, digging into his cheeks.

Something twitches at the corners of your lip and pulls into an upward curve; the feeling is tight, foreign. Your cheek muscles are unsure of how to compensate for the expression. You can’t remember the last time a smile has naturally graced your features. Now, it’s genuine. It’s... nice, and the hot rivulets currently streaming down your face are in a unanimous agreement.

Hunter moves to cup your face and thumb below your eyes, and his lips kiss the salt away. You grab hold of his forearms and shut your eyes.

“You want to know how I manage?” He croons in determination, “When my visual is overstimulated, I close my eyes and focus on the features of your face ingrained in my memory. When certain auditory has me weak at the knees, I remember the lull of your voice, comforting. When my nerves are on fire and I want nothing more than to be physically desensitized, it’s your soft touch that acts as a blanket, covering, making it easier for me. You make it better. Me better. Life better.” Hunter finishes his declaration in lovingly swiping at your face once more, expunging your pain. Words make a prompt exit along with it.

Your lips find purchase at the stubble along his jaw, in response. You love being able to fully make out the intricacy of his irises, now that you’re lovingly gazing into them. When you exit your captivated trance—his eyes are beautiful—you vaguely note with a twinge of pride that the encounter was indefinitely your longest standing record for maintaining eye contact. Another gentle smile fills your features. You remove your weight from him.

“Take this off?” You shyly tug at the collar of his blacks, seeking his consent, respectful of his own sensory receptors and their boundaries.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Hunter sits to quickly shed the upper article of clothing. He pulls you on top once again, and you are relishing in his bare skin. Your fingers map out a path of their own volition along the various textures and scars dotting the pectoral flesh.

“You never told me what you were thinking about earlier,” Hunter nonchalantly called you out. Your brows furrow in confusion. “There was something different on your face when I first held you. Just a flicker. But you looked... happy. Content, even.” Hunter smirked. “Hope you’re not planning to keep all that happiness to yourself.”

You certainly weren’t planning to. You recalled the picturesque and beckoned it forth... there was your sign of serenity. Just the shape of it, but solid, and clear. Hopeful, and promising, just on the horizon. It made your chest flutter, and ebbed away at the heartache. You realized Hunter’s brow arched in anticipation.

“How would you feel about working in carpentry?” A chuckle. Hunter was thoroughly humored, and surprisal was briefly evident on his features.

“So I can build you and I a house? To fill a bunch of babies with? Gladly.” He chased the daydream alongside you, and it was your turn to borrow the surprise; your mouth hung agape as heat crept through the apples of your cheeks. Hunter’s laugh boomed as a hand fit under your chin to close your parted lips. He wished to use his own to do the trick, but, another time.

“I’m with you.”

[newmusickarl]

Album & EP Recommendations

Boy From Michigan by John Grant

For whatever reason, I have often struggled to really connect with the music of American singer-songwriter John Grant – undoubtedly impressive but not quite resonated with me. However, that has changed with his latest release Boy From Michigan, an album produced by the wonderful Cate Le Bon that is both sonically dazzling and lyrically introspective.

Against a backdrop of synths that range from the atmospheric and spacey (the incredible title track) to the playfully upbeat (Rhetorical Figure) through to the acid-soaked nightmare (Your Portfolio), John takes the listener on a deep dive into the hypnotic vortex of his mind. There he jumps between the personal and the political, recalling an anxious upbringing driven from his struggles with sexuality one minute, before launching an attack on Trump America the next (the glorious neon-soaked 10-minute tirade that is The Only Baby).

However, amidst all the sharp lyrics and 80s synth-pop aesthetics, it is arguably the album’s most traditional moment that strikes the biggest chord. The Cruise Room is a gorgeous, heartfelt piano ballad, featuring minimal production and some strategically placed vocoder effects to help John’s haunting words to just ripple through to your core. It is incredibly stirring and probably one of the finest songs I have heard all year.

From start to finish this really does feel like a special album, one that I have already played several times this week and no doubt will return to over the next few months. If you want an album that is both melodically satisfying but also has worthwhile stories to tell, this is the one.

Call Me If You Get Lost by Tyler, The Creator

American rapper Tyler, The Creator was another artist I really struggled to get into early on, but off the back of his coming-of-age masterpiece Flower Boy and the sonic experimentation of 2019’s Igor, I was anxious to hear what Tyler had cooked up for this surprise release.

On Call Me If You Get Lost, it really feels like Tyler has hit his stride as an artist – Flower Boy was him finding his voice, Igor was him finding his sound and now it has all masterfully come together on this latest project. Not only is Tyler in razor-sharp lyrical form but he is also mostly handling production duties himself, aside from small credits to Jamie XX and Jay Versace.

With guest appearances from Ty Dolla $ign, Lil Wayne and Pharrell Williams amongst others, this feels like Tyler’s most significant body of work to date, propelled by career-best tracks like Corso, Lemonhead, Lumberjack and Wilshire. Simply put, this is one exquisitely crafted hip hop record.

Home Video by Lucy Dacus

At the other end of the spectrum, American singer-songwriter Lucy Dacus released her third album this week, looking to follow in the footsteps of her boygenius bandmates Phoebe Bridgers and Julien Baker, who have both themselves delivered career-best albums over the last 12 months.

As the title is there to suggest, this is Lucy looking back at key moments in her life, both the sentimental and the heartbreaking. In her vivid descriptions of these snapshots, she really shines as a songwriter, transporting the listener to these life-defining fragments of memory.

Thematically it is quite similar in a way to John Grant’s record this week, however where he fills the space with lush, maximal production, Lucy’s approach is more subtle and tender. From the wonderful opening beat of Hot & Heavy, the fuzzy riffs of First Time, the soft plucking of the gorgeous Cartwheel and the climatic, grand finale of Triple Dog Dare, Lucy delivers on every single track here. Possibly none more so than on single Thumbs, an incredibly haunting track where Lucy painfully describes every thought and feeling running through her mind as she meets her birth father at a restaurant. It is a real gut-puncher, and another one of the best songs I’ve heard all year.

Just like her bandmates, Lucy continues to flourish as a solo artist, presenting here an audio photo album that will frequently make you laugh and cry, and then at times both of those at the same time.

Together In Static by Daniel Avery

Also worth checking out this week, if 2020’s Love + Light was the party then this latest release from electronic musician Daniel Avery is the quiet comedown, with Avery crafting some really soothing and intricate ambient soundscapes. Quite blissful!

Nine by Sault

Coming off the back of their two highly acclaimed 2020 albums Untitled (Rise) and Untitled (Black Is), rhythm and blues collective Sault deliver another radiant and thought-provoking listen with this latest release, with Little Simz even turning up for one of the record’s many highlights, You From London.

Soft Thing by LOONY

On the EPs front this week, Toronto-based singer-songwriter LOONY is back with a scintillating eight track release, that really highlights how she is maturing as an artist. Packed with pop, R&B and soul elements, it is highlighted by mine, her brilliant collaboration with New Orleans-based rapper Pell, as well as great tracks like ours and beg.

Our Extended Play by Beabadoobee

Following on from her incredible debut Fake It Flowers released last year, Beabadoobee is back with four more excellent, nostalgia-tinged tracks built on hazy guitars and soaring pop-punk choruses. Headlined by recent singles, Last Day On Earth and Cologne.

Tracks of the Week

Latter Days by Big Red Machine featuring Anaïs Mitchell

Aaron Dessner and Justin Vernon marked their return as Big Red Machine this week, announcing a new album due in August featuring an array of enticing guest stars including Ben Howard, Taylor Swift and Fleet Foxes. They also delivered the first two tracks from the record, the best of which this beautiful collaboration with American singer-songwriter Anaïs Mitchell that will open the record. Stunning!

Sad But True by St. Vincent

Last week it was Miley and her famous friends tackling the Metallica classic Nothing Else Matters in truly epic style, now this week brings us St. Vincent and her guitar prowess delivering a mesmerising synth-pop take of Sad But True. Colossal!

Dying in Heaven by Alexis Taylor

Hot Chip frontman Alexis Taylor tackles spirituality on this captivating lead single from his forthcoming solo album. Featuring a suitably floaty, almost angelic melody, it is a song that already feels like it has a real timelessness to it.

Contact High by We Are Scientists

And finally this week, New York rockers We Are Scientists released the first taste of their next album, this riff-tastic, soaring indie anthem that comes equipped as always with a suitably quirky video – dig it out if you get chance.