#black radio iii

[agoodsongeveryday]

Day Nine Hundred and Twenty

Life can bring you down when you're living in it These circles and cycles go 'round, though you even spin it But you stoppin' it when your shoulder is a reminder To not run yourself in the ground, to yourself be kinder

Sometimes, I got real cast by truth even in the rear view Driving aimlessly around with nowhere to stay to She ain't, they should be them, the vibes like an abstract poet If somebody ask who you are, well, you better know it Better know it, better know it

[holdenreviews]

Better Than I Imagined - Robert Glasper feat. H.E.R. and Meshell Ndegeocello

Happy 45th Birthday, Robert!

[odinsblog]

Patrick Braxton became the first Black mayor of Newbern, Alabama, when he was elected in 2020, but since then he has fought with the previous administration to actually serve in office. (Aallyah Wright/Capital B)

NEWBERN, Ala. — There’s a power struggle in Newbern, Alabama, and the rural town’s first Black mayor is at war with the previous administration who he says locked him out of Town Hall.

After years of racist harassment and intimidation, Patrick Braxton is fed up, and in a federal civil rights lawsuit he is accusing town officials of conspiring to deny his civil rights and his position because of his race.

“When I first became mayor, [a white woman told me] the town was not ready for a Black mayor,” Braxton recalls.

The town is 85% Black, and 29% of Black people here live below the poverty line.

“What did she mean by the town wasn’t ready for a Black mayor? They, meaning white people?” Capital B asked.

“Yes. No change,” Braxton says.

Decades removed from a seemingly Jim Crow South, white people continue to thwart Black political progress by refusing to allow them to govern themselves or participate in the country’s democracy, several residents told Capital B. While litigation may take months or years to resolve, Braxton and community members are working to organize voter education, registration, and transportation ahead of the 2024 general election.

But the tension has been brewing for years.

Two years ago, Braxton says he was the only volunteer firefighter in his department to respond to a tree fire near a Black person’s home in the town of 275 people. As Braxton, 57, actively worked to put out the fire, he says, one of his white colleagues tried to take the keys to his fire truck to keep him from using it.

In another incident, Braxton, who was off duty at the time, overheard an emergency dispatch call for a Black woman experiencing a heart attack. He drove to the fire station to retrieve the automated external defibrillator, or AED machine, but the locks were changed, so he couldn’t get into the facility. He raced back to his house, grabbed his personal machine, and drove over to the house, but he didn’t make it in time to save her. Braxton wasn’t able to gain access to the building or equipment until the Hale County Emergency Management Agency director intervened, the lawsuit said.

“I have been on several house fires by myself,” Braxton says. “They hear the radio and wouldn’t come. I know they hear it because I called dispatch, and dispatch set the tone call three or four times for Newbern because we got a certain tone.”

This has become the new norm for Braxton ever since he became the first Black mayor of his hometown in 2020. For the past three years, he’s been fighting to serve and hold on to the title of mayor, first reported by Lee Hedgepeth, a freelance journalist based in Alabama.

Incorporated in 1854, Newbern, Alabama, today has a population of 275 people — 85% of whom are Black. (Aallyah Wright/Capital B)

Not only has he been locked out of the town hall and fought fires alone, but he’s been followed by a drone and unable to retrieve the town’s mail and financial accounts, he says. Rather than concede, Haywood “Woody” Stokes III, the former white mayor, along with his council members, reappointed themselves to their positions after ordering a special election that no one knew about.

Braxton is suing them, the People’s Bank of Greensboro, and the postmaster at the U.S. Post Office.

For at least 60 years, there’s never been an election in the town. Instead, the mantle has been treated as a “hand me down” by the small percentage of white residents, according to several residents Capital B interviewed. After being the only one to submit qualifying paperwork and statement of economic interests, Braxton became the mayor.

(continue reading)

[bookholichany]

David Tennant in Shakespeare plays

[As you like it, Measure for measure, love's labor lost, Richard II, Hamlet, The Comedy of errors, King Lear, Romeo and Juliet, much Ado about nothing, Macbeth]

P.s. he had also been in Edward III as Edward the black prince and the midsummer night's dream as Lysander/flute but I couldn't find any pictures from those plays. Also he had taken part in many audio performances from Archangel archive full Shakespeare plays collection to BBC radio Macbeth 2022.

[sugoi-writes]

Joyride - Alastor x Lucifer

Kinktober - Day IV (Car Sex)

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

A/N - What a fucking HONOR it is to kick of Day 4 of this prompt with my lovely wives! If you haven't read the first few days, please do so! I'd love to thank @hazelfoureyes @synamartia @fraugwinska @macabr3-barbi3 and @minkdelovely for indulging in this insanity with me 🔥 Oh this will be FUN

Day I Day II Day III

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Old man yaoi, cursing, dirty talk, thirsty descriptions, Luci in a damn dress, riding/grinding/humping, handjob(kinda?), anal fingering/prep, banter, alcohol consumption, Bottom/Switch Alastor if you squint, edging mention, and... just straight up smut. This is car sex people. MDNI I SWEAR TO CHRIST... Have fun!

🔥VROOM VROOM🔥

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

When Alastor arrived at the rendezvous, he hadn't expected the limousine that awaited him. Or, perhaps he should have... This is the King of Hell, after all. The vehicle was an elegant, pristine white with accents of red and gold. Imagery of Eden's vices were lovingly etched into the metallic flourishes with a near-angelic precision. Lucifer’s fixations on apples and serpentine designs were not missed by the Radio Demon… He had to admit: it was a perfect chariot for the prideful ruler of Hell. A chariot he would soon share with him alone.

Alastor dismissed his cane with a flick of his wrist, hands eager to hold onto something else. When a long, pitch and ivory leg emerged from the car, he felt his heart leap into his throat. Alastor was rarely a victim of his carnal urges, but he felt the table shifting as he saw more and more of that delectable skin. 

Lucifer Morningstar emerged from the limo in his colors-- a deep, cherry red with golden accents. The opulent, delicate chains that dangled down his bare back could be seen in the tinted windows' reflection. Alastor fought the urge to clear his throat, feeling his pulse hammering away urgently. Has Lucifer always owned this dress?

The fallen angel, temptation incarnate, combed his blackened fingers through his far-too-slick hair. Much like the snake in the Garden of Eden, Lucifer's eyes were lidded with sin and desire. He knew exactly how he looked, relishing his partner's near sheepish reaction.

"You look dapper as always, Mr. Radio Demon,” he practically purred, addressing Alastor as an equal. The flustered sinner was hoping to get more intimate names to tumble from those lips soon enough. 

Alastor bows at the waist, taking Lucifer's hand into his own formally. He smiles before pressing the silken flesh to his lips. During this, he maintains his focus on Lucifer’s eyes, and not the valley between his pectorals. Arguably, it was a difficult task for the taller demon. 

"Your Majesty, you may call me Alastor tonight. I implore you to." For the moment, Alastor returns the playful, formal tone, knowing that his partner will find it amusing. As if on cue, Lucifer tilts his head curiously, his free hand stifling his chuckle. 

"What a change of pace... Something must have come over you," Lucifer supplied, sighing as Alastor starts a tender ascent up his arm. Alastor's lips didn't rest the entire journey, talking between his strategic kisses. 

"Well, 'Alastor' sounds far sweeter when you're wailing in ecstacy, Your Grace." Alastor's rebuttal was so brief, yet so devastating to the demon before him. As if Lucifer wasn't already mentally shredding his new, black blazer to ribbons…

Lucifer's breath stutters as Alastor's kisses carve sensual patterns up his neck, tempting the temptress to give in to a moan. Alastor forgot that they were in public with prying eyes, it seemed... 

A fist full of hair forces Alastor to halt in his tracks, a breathy reply ghosting his cheek. 

"Then you must call me Lucifer tonight, Al... I'd rather hear that than the list of royal bastardizations you've cooking up..." 

A wolfish grin presses against Lucifer's pulse, making the fallen angel's heart stir once more," As you wish, Lucifer." Alastor, ever the gentleman, untangles himself from the breathless devil swiftly. Immediately after, he swings the door of the limo open, gesturing towards the interior with a dramatic flare. 

"But please, do crawl in... Wouldn't want you to catch a cold from your... Interesting choice of garments." 

Lucifer snickers, revealing that his dress has not one, but two side slits. As he makes a show of crawling in, Alastor's eyes can't help their wandering to the devil’s pert rump," Only if you come crawling after me, Bambi Boy~" 

See, at this very moment, Alastor is a simple man. And he follows the requests of his Lord without hesitation. He is nothing if not an eager man; ready to please.

🩸🩸🩸

Alastor can't help marveling over the little things. Limos were a luxury rarely extended to people of lower classes, like himself. He and his mother were as low as they could be on Earth, humble and grateful for what they have. While he tried to not oogle at the niceties of the cab, he couldn't hide the interest that sparkled in his eyes.

A phone, with a direct line to the driver-- for emergencies, or requests to stop, one could assume. Conveniently, there was a sliding window, should the phone be obsolete. In all of their banter, Lucifer insisted that 'it’s basically soundproof'. Had Lucifer wanted to test that theory, Alastor wondered. 

Towards the front of the cabin, dozens of glasses for champagne and other spirits sat on a bar cart– conveniently built into the side of the vehicle. The center console just below the window acted as a cooler, stocked with lovely vintages and chasers (he even spotted a brandy bottle or two--how very thoughtful of the King...) 

The windows were tinted, of course, the seats a red, luxurious leather. And for comfort, the lights in the back were dimmed, bathing the pair in a low, sultry light. For all intents and purposes, this was the perfect set up to a steamy tryst… One that even the Radio Demon could see coming. Alastor was surrounded by wealth, comfort and good company... A combination he wasn't used to, but one he welcomed enthusiastically. 

Lucifer had been meeting him finger-to-finger with whiskey the entire drive, the two of them laughing and honking like a pair of geese at the smallest reference. Alastor hadn't remembered the last time he had this much fun and let loose, already feeling the delicious effects of his drinks settle in. He had to admit: the dingy hotel bar was a far cry from the back of Lucifer's limousine. He felt justified in spending his time so earnestly with him, and felt just as eager to pursue the tryst that crossed his mind more than once. 

Alastor felt light as a feather, and yet as hearty as molten lava. He was one of the few to get this luxury; one of the first outside of the Morningstar Family to grace the seats of Lucifer’s limousine. Alastor wanted to leave an impression… and who could blame him? This was just as much his limo as it was Lucifer’s, in his mind. This particular ride would be one the Lord of the Hells would never forget... A 'joyride', as he's heard it called before. And so, with many fingers of whiskey making his heart flutter, Alastor enacted his plan. 

He hadn't anticipated the road bump when he tried to lean over, his longer, spindly body colliding into Lucifer's suddenly. The latter had clipped his head on the way down, but still managed to keep his glass of whiskey aloft. A pained groan was shared between the two, before they settled into their new position. 

When Lucifer looked up to wide, near hysterical eyes, a grin stretched across his pale face mischievously. He let his hand rest against Alastor's broad chest, his other still dangling midair. 

"First time in a car, I reckon?" Lucifer needles boldly, feeling a leg press between his own. Alastor levels him with a hard stare, softened by the blush rapidly coloring his cheeks. 

"And if it was? Would you feel so honored?" Alastor bit back, his hands confidently caging Lucifer's head. Alastor did his best to keep his balance as the limo hopped and bobbed along, not missing the way that Lucifer's body rippled beneath him. He wanted to see those same ripples uninterrupted by the luxurious fabric on his skin...

"I would be flattered, yes! For saving something so special for me, Bambi~" 

"Please don't call me that--" 

Lucifer manages to pull his leg up, pressing it to Alastor's chest before kicking him off. He sends the startled demon flying onto his back, leaving him sputtering from shock. Thankfully, he didn't shred the ceiling with his antlers on his descent. However… he wasn't so lucky with the door, the very tips of his points sinking into the doorframe. 

Lucifer straddled Alastor's hips with his shimmering thighs, chugging the rest of his drink before slinging the empty glass away. Alastor flinched as it shattered right against the window that divided the cabin from the front, ears flat against his skull. Was he TRYING to get the driver's attention?!

"Why don't I show you how it's done then, hmm~? I'll give you the ride of your life~" Lucifer offers, mirroring Alastor's classic, amused head tilt. 

The sinner bit his lip, suppressing the groan building in his throat. The prospect was one he wasn't disinterested in… He struggled as Lucifer settled over his groin, grinding his soft hind against his lap. It appeared he wasn't the only one struggling to 'keep it in his pants'... Err, dress? 

Alastor's hands grasp Luci's waist possessively, resisting the urge to bring him harder against his growing cock. 

"H-Have it your way," Alastor scoffs, head rolling back as Lucifer's rocking becomes a harsh bounce– accursed speed bumps! And curse the car door! 

Alastor’s antlers created deep gouges into the frame, rendering him completely still. In this position, he is quite vulnerable, his tail wagging subconsciously under his body. And yet, the element of being ‘trapped’ somehow made the heat in his cheeks travel straight to his cock. 

“ ‘You sure you want it my way~?” Lucifer teased, bringing his hips in a tight circle. This act alone had Alastor keening, biting his lip to silence himself. Of course I do, Alastor thought.

“Just get on with it, before I change my mind!” He jabs, knowing damn well that Lucifer saw straight through him. Lucifer grins as he braces a hand against the ceiling, the other fiddling with Alastor's trousers. "With pleasure, Alastor~" 

Alastor could hardly conceal his desire, the booze unraveling his resolve to be stoic or guarded. His cock throbbed at the use of his name in such a sensual context, aching to be freed.

Lucifer unclasps Alastor's belt with ease, tongue running across his pointed teeth greedily. Even as the vehicle rocked about, Lucifer hardly swayed. Instead, he used the unpredictability as a reason to press his body closer. The Radio Demon sighed with relief when his cock was released, his flushed, heated tip already damp with precum. 

Lucifer whistles lewdly at the sight, looking to Alastor with a cocky smirk,” Absolutely divine…” the former angel mused, leaving Alastor unable to form a coherent thought. 

When Lucifer resettles over his lap, Alastor is struck with a startling realization: no underwear. Not a single fucking thing to keep Lucifer concealed. Had Lucifer simply willed it away, or had he been garment-less this entire time? The prospect made Alastor buck up into Lucifer, a breathy sigh fumbling from his lips.

“Such an eager boy… I'll be sure to reward my little doe soon enough~” 

Alastor hardly had a moment to think before Lucifer's cock pressed to his. Thereafter, a warm hand wrapped firmly around both shafts. Alastor jolts, gasping as his partner moves against him. Lucifer keeps his hand ridgid with a delicious, all consuming pressure, watching his favorite sinner tremble below him. Experimentally, Lucifer begins to stroke the both of them, getting the Radio Demon to sigh and relax. The large hands holding Lucifer's waist act as an anchor, despite Alastor’s desire to move. His hips begin rocking languidly to watch Lucifer's pace, seeking even more friction than the bit provided by him. A shared, wanton moan hangs in the air, both sinners feeling their hearts quicken. 

Lucifer glides against the Radio Demon faster, the bumps in the road making his pace haphazard but heavenly," S-See? Told you I'd show-- you-- aaaaah good time~ Aaahn!" 

Alastor wasn't up for refuting the statement, especially when he was focusing on staying quiet," Are you quite certain we c-cahh-- hah-- c-can't be heard, cher?" 

Lucifer laughs breathlessly, grinning," Let him hear... The driver could use the change in pace-!! Hah!!!" 

Alastor grinds harsher against Lucifer’s cock, claws threatening to rip his dress for the horrendous suggestion.

"Sh-Shut your maw... This is too--nnn-- too lewd-- What if he reported this? What would the papers s-say?" 

Lucifer mewls as he tightens his grasp, eyes threatening to roll back as his hips move with Alastor's effortlessly," Nnnngh-- uhh, lucky demon~?" He quips, laughing breathlessly as Alastor smacks his thigh. The quake that travels through his skin has Alastor craning his head back, a hand flying to the car door to keep his antlers from sinking further in. 

"Sh-Shit!" was his only reply, ears pinned back as Lucifer began rocking with intent, the precum produced by their members making the glide unbearably wet and smooth. His hand, now stationary, focused on keeping the pressure tight and warm; a perfect hole for them to slide into.

Lucifer's lopsided grin portrays his ecstacy, the sweat clinging to his forehead making a heated descent down his temple. 

"At a loss for words, huh~?" He teased, his hips swiveling lecherously. The grunt he's rewarded with is just as telling, his partner's eyes slamming shut from the bliss. Lucifer doesn't seem to care, bringing his hips forward in a rapid succession of thrusts. 

"I should make you cum like this, y'know... Make us paint these dull seats with your cum--" Lucifer croaks, feeling a finger teasing the tight rim of his ass. 

"I'd rather have it here," Alastor groaned," Pl-Please-- this is is torture," Alastor gasps, feeling Lucifer's cock kick against his own at the idea. Begrudgingly, Lucifer couldn’t argue with that, knowing that he's essentially edging the two of them at the same time. 

"Nnnn, you're no fun~" Lucifer muses, letting go of their cocks for a moment," But you better make it worth my while, Bambi~" 

Alastor smirks, brows raised," I've never heard complaints..." He retorted, mentally finishing his sentence: not from you, at least.

🩸🩸🩸

When Lucifer allowed Alastor to stretch and probe his ass, he switched arms, the one formerly bracing the ceiling falling to Alastor's hip. He arched his back as harshly as he could, offering his ass to his partner easily. The stimulation from behind made his hips buck, cock absentmindedly grinding against Alastor's. The faster and wider the Radio Demon’s fingers fucked, the harsher Lucifer's hips moved to meet them. Alastor panted below Lucifer, eyes nearly crossed as the pleasure kept building higher and higher. His hot breath made the heat in Lucifer's cheeks feel mild, the Demon King cursing through clenched teeth. He marveled at the sight of Alastor's mouth hanging open, Lucifer leaning over to get a better view of the debauched look. 

"Mmm~ Is my doe going to cum~?" Lucifer moans, his tongue swiping across his mouth, as if coaxing him to kiss him. Alastor flinched, his brow hardening," This buck-- hah-- is about to shut you up--" Alastor yaps, yanking Lucifer down by the neck. He heard the familiar slapping and squelching of his hand hastily fucking into Lucifer's ass, kissing the squirming demon desperately to hide another mewl. He wasn't the only one struggling not to cum.

As Alastor continued to feverishly kiss him, he teased Lucifer between each disconnect. A tongue sliding across his lip, a gentle nip just to the right of his mouth… anything to make Lucifer sigh and pant again. The temptee just became the tempter!

"I should have you cum like this... You're a quivering mess from just my hands--" 

"A-And your cock-- G-Good God!" Lucifer sung, drooling from the dual stimulation. Alastor chuckles darkly, leaning up to capture Lucifer's neck with a gentle bite," It's just the two of us down here, cher~,” he admonishes, regaining some of his footing with the other demon. 

Lucifer practically squeaks as Alastor finds his prostate, the bullying internally amplifying his impending orgasm. Close. Lucifer was getting extremely close, and it was plain as day to the other sinner.

"Cum for me," Alastor pleaded,"C-Cum for me, please-- so this buck can fuck you properly." 

The triggering phrase was all it took for Lucifer to lose himself to the white-hot madness, his head thrown back in rapture. His hips didn't stop even as Alastor's fingers slowed down, his vision blurred with hot tears. When he felt the press of Alastor's cock to his wanting hole instead of his fingers, he bit back a wail of overstimulation. 

"F-Fuck... We may be late for the reservation-- nnnnghh– Alastor, listen to me!" 

The Radio Demon’s static fills the air, a conniving laugh haunting the heavy air of the cabin. 

"I intend to hold my end of things: I'm going to fuck you properly. Dinner be damned when something this delicious is in my lap--" 

When Lucifer wailed Alastor's name, fully impaled on his member, Alastor couldn't help calling out to his lover in tandem. Their bodies melded together once more, their original plans a distant memory in their lust-driven minds. 

Bottom Banner made by the lovely @synamartia 🔥

[mysticstronomy]

WHAT IS THE KARDASHEV SCALE??

Blog#431

Wednesday, August 28th, 2024.

Welcome back,

What might we find: little green men or microbes? How might we find them: radio waves or strange chemicals in the planet's atmosphere? Something no one has even thought of yet?

Over the decades, scientists considering the possibility of life beyond Earth have pondered what such life might look like, how humans might be able to identify it from afar — and whether communication between the two worlds might be possible.

That thinking has included developing classification systems ready to fill with aliens. One such system is called the Kardashev scale, after the Soviet astronomer who proposed it in 1964, and evaluates alien civilizations based on the energy they can harness.

The Kardashev scale is a classification system for hypothetical extraterrestrial civilizations. The scale includes three categories based on how much energy a civilization is using.

Kardashev describes type I as a "technological level close to the level presently attained on the Earth," type II as "a civilization capable of harnessing the energy radiated by its own star" and type III as "a civilization in possession of energy on the scale of its own galaxy."

Each type also includes a numerical cut-off for the energy involved, but those weren't arbitrary cut-offs. "He used things that are easy to visualize," Valentin Ivanov, an astronomer at the European Southern Observatory who has built on Kardashev's work, told Space.com.

"I'm almost tempted to say it's a publicity stunt, these comparisons that he uses to make it easier for people to understand."

Kardashev's scale is included in a five-page paper published in 1964 and called "Transmission of information by extraterrestrial civilizations." (The paper was originally published in Russian, but an English translation was published the same year.)

Although the scale is what caught people's imaginations, "Transmission of information by extraterrestrial civilizations" focuses on calculating how powerful a light signal from any point of the universe would need to be for radio scientists at the time to detect it.

This value is also the numerical cut-off for the energy use of a type II civilization.

Nikolai Kardashev was a Soviet and Russian astrophysicist who died in 2019. Kardashev was roughly contemporary with early search for extraterrestrial intelligence (SETI) leaders like Frank Drake, who published his famous equation three years before Kardashev's paper; Giuseppe Cocconi and Philip Morrison, who predicted what an extraterrestrial signal might look like; and Freeman Dyson, who pondered ways alien civilizations could surpass the limits of a planet.

In addition to his scale, Kardashev developed a technique called very-long-baseline interferometry (VLBI), which uses a global network of radio dishes as one radio telescope the size of Earth. Perhaps most famously, VLBI is used by the Event Horizon Telescope to observe black holes, including producing the first ever black hole image, published in 2019.

Kardashev also proposed supplementing Earth-based network VLBI observatories with space-based telescopes to increase its observing power even more. He advocated for the Russian mission RadioAstron, which launched in 2011, to do just this sort of work, according to a review of VLBI developments.

Originally published on https://www.space.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, August 31st, 2024)

"IS THERE MORE ANTI MATTER THAN MATTER??"

[reasoningdaily]

NEWBERN, Ala. — There’s a power struggle in Newbern, Alabama, and the rural town’s first Black mayor is at war with the previous administration who he says locked him out of Town Hall.

After years of racist harassment and intimidation, Patrick Braxton is fed up, and in a federal civil rights lawsuit he is accusing town officials of conspiring to deny his civil rights and his position because of his race.

“When I first became mayor, [a white woman told me] the town was not ready for a Black mayor,” Braxton recalls.

The town is 85% Black, and 29% of Black people here live below the poverty line. 

“What did she mean by the town wasn’t ready for a Black mayor? They, meaning white people?” Capital B asked.

“Yes. No change,” Braxton says.

Decades removed from a seemingly Jim Crow South, white people continue to thwart Black political progress by refusing to allow them to govern themselves or participate in the country’s democracy, several residents told Capital B. While litigation may take months or years to resolve, Braxton and community members are working to organize voter education, registration, and transportation ahead of the 2024 general election.

But the tension has been brewing for years. 

Two years ago, Braxton says he was the only volunteer firefighter in his department to respond to a tree fire near a Black person’s home in the town of 275 people. As Braxton, 57, actively worked to put out the fire, he says, one of his white colleagues tried to take the keys to his fire truck to keep him from using it.

In another incident, Braxton, who was off duty at the time, overheard an emergency dispatch call for a Black woman experiencing a heart attack. He drove to the fire station to retrieve the automated external defibrillator, or AED machine, but the locks were changed, so he couldn’t get into the facility. He raced back to his house, grabbed his personal machine, and drove over to the house, but he didn’t make it in time to save her. Braxton wasn’t able to gain access to the building or equipment until the Hale County Emergency Management Agency director intervened, the lawsuit said. 

“I have been on several house fires by myself,” Braxton says. “They hear the radio and wouldn’t come. I know they hear it because I called dispatch, and dispatch set the tone call three or four times for Newbern because we got a certain tone.”

Not only has he been locked out of the town hall and fought fires alone, but he’s been followed by a drone and unable to retrieve the town’s mail and financial accounts, he says. Rather than concede, Haywood “Woody” Stokes III, the former white mayor, along with his council members, reappointed themselves to their positions after ordering a special election that no one knew about. 

Braxton is suing them, the People’s Bank of Greensboro, and the postmaster at the U.S. Post Office. 

For at least 60 years, there’s never been an election in the town. Instead, the mantle has been treated as a “hand me down” by the small percentage of white residents, according to several residents Capital B interviewed. After being the only one to submit qualifying paperwork and statement of economic interests, Braxton became the mayor.

Stokes and his council — which consists of three white people (Gary Broussard, Jesse Leverett, Willie Tucker) and one Black person (Voncille Brown Thomas) — deny any wrongdoing in their response to the amended complaint filed on April 17. They also claim qualified immunity, which protects state and local officials from individual liability from civil lawsuits.

The attorneys for all parties, including the previous town council, the bank, and Lynn Thiebe, the postmaster at the post office, did not respond to requests for comment.

The town where voting never was

Over the past 50 years, Newbern has held a majority Black population. The town was incorporated in 1854 and became known as a farm town. The Great Depression and the mechanization of the cotton industry contributed to Newbern’s economic and population decline, according to the Encyclopedia of Alabama.

Today, across Newbern’s 1.2 square miles sits the town hall and volunteer fire department constructed by Auburn’s students, an aging library, U.S. Post Office, and Mercantile, the only store there, which Black people seldom frequent because of high prices and a lack of variety of products, Braxton says.

“They want to know why Black [people] don’t shop with them. You don’t have nothin’ the Black [people] want or need,” he says. “No gasoline. … They used to sell country-time bacon and cheese and souse meat. They stopped selling that because they say they didn’t like how it feel on their hands when they cuttin’ the meat.”

To help unify the town, Braxton began hosting annual Halloween parties for the children, and game day for the senior citizens. But his efforts haven’t been enough to stop some people from moving for better jobs, industry, and quality of life. 

Residents say the white town leaders have done little to help the predominantly Black area thrive over the years. They question how the town has spent its finances, as Black residents continue to struggle. Under the American Rescue Plan Act, Newbern received $30,000, according to an estimated funding sheet by Alabama Democratic U.S. Rep. Terri Sewell, but residents say they can’t see where it has gone. 

At the First Baptist Church of Newbern, Braxton, three of his selected council members — Janice Quarles, 72, Barbara Patrick, 78, and James Ballard, 76 — and the Rev. James Williams, 77, could only remember two former mayors: Robert Walthall, who served as mayor for 44 years, and Paul Owens, who served on the council for 33 years and mayor for 11.

“At one point, we didn’t even know who the mayor was,” Ballard recalls.  “If you knew somebody and you was white, and your grandfather was in office when he died or got sick, he passed it on down to the grandson or son, and it’s been that way throughout the history of Newbern.”

Quarles agreed, adding: “It took me a while to know that Mr. Owens was the mayor. I just thought he was just a little man cleaning up on the side of the road, sometimes picking up paper. I didn’t know until I was told that ‘Well, he’s the mayor now.’” 

Braxton mentioned he heard of a Black man named Mr. Hicks who previously sought office years ago.

“This was before my time, but I heard Mr. Hicks had won the mayor seat and they took it from him the next day [or] the next night,” Braxton said. “It was another Black guy, had won years ago, and they took it from.”

“I hadn’t heard that one,” Ballard chimes in, sitting a few seats away from Braxton.

“How does someone take the seat from him, if he won?” Capital B asked.

“The same way they’re trying to do now with Mayor Braxton,” Quarles chuckled. “Maybe at that time — I know if it was Mr. Hicks — he really had nobody else to stand up with him.”

Despite the rumor, what they did know for sure: There was never an election, and Stokes had been in office since 2008.

The costs to challenging the white power structure

After years of disinvestment, Braxton’s frustrations mounted at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, when he says Stokes refused to commemorate state holidays or hang up American flags. When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, the majority-white council failed to provide supplies such as disinfectant, masks, and humidifiers to residents to mitigate the risks of contracting the virus.

Instead of waiting, Braxton made several trips to neighboring Greensboro, about 10 miles away, to get food and other items to distribute to Black and white residents. He also placed signs around town about vaccination. He later found his signs had been destroyed and put in “a burn pile,” he said.

After years of unmet needs of the community, Braxton decided to qualify for mayor. Only one Black person — Brown Thomas, who served with Stokes —has ever been named to the council. After Braxton told Stokes, the acting mayor, his intention to run, the conspiracy began, the lawsuit states. 

According to the lawsuit, Stokes gave Braxton the wrong information on how to qualify for mayor. Braxton then consulted with the Alabama Conference of Black Mayors, and the organization told him to file his statement of candidacy and statement of the economic interests with the circuit clerk of Hale County and online with the state, the lawsuit states. Vickie Moore, the organization’s executive director, said it also guided Braxton on how to prepare for his first meeting and other mayoral duties. 

Moore, an Alabama native and former mayor of Slocomb, said she has never heard of other cases across the state where elected officials who have never been elected are able to serve. This case with Braxton is “racism,” she said.

“The true value of a person can’t be judged by the color of their skin, and that’s what’s happening in this case here, and it’s the worst racism I’ve ever seen,” Moore said. “We have fought so hard for simple rights. It’s one of the most discouraging but encouraging things because it encourages us to continue to move forward … and continue to fight.”

Political and legal experts say what’s happening in Newbern is rare, but the tactics to suppress Black power aren’t, especially across the South. From tampering with ballot boxes to restricting reading material, “the South has been resistant to all types of changes” said Emmitt Riley III, associate professor of political science and Africana Studies at The University of the South.

“This is a clear case of white [people] attempting to seize and maintain political power in the face of someone who went through the appropriate steps to qualify and to run for office and by default wins because no one else qualified,” Riley added. “This raises a number of questions about democracy and a free and fair system of governance.”

Riley mentioned a different, but similar case in rural Greenwood, Mississippi. Sheriel Perkins, a longtime City Council member, became the first Black female mayor in 2006, serving for only two years. She ran again in 2013 and lost by 206 votes to incumbent Carolyn McAdams, who is white. Perkins contested the results, alleging voter fraud. White people allegedly paid other white people to live in the city in order to participate in the election and cast a legal vote, Riley said. In that case, the state Supreme Court dismissed the case and “found Perkins presented no evidence” that anyone voted illegally in a precinct, but rather it was the election materials that ended up in the wrong precincts.

“It was also on record that one white woman got on the witness stand and said, ‘I came back to vote because I was contacted to vote by X person.’ I think you see these tactics happening all across the South in local elections, in particular,” Riley said. “It becomes really difficult for people to really litigate these cases because in many cases it goes before the state courts, and state courts have not been really welcoming to overturning elections and ordering new elections.” 

Another example: Camilla, Georgia. 

In 2015, Rufus Davis was elected as the first Black male mayor of rural, predominantly Black Camilla. In 2017, the six-person City Council — half Black and half white — voted to deny him a set of keys to City Hall, which includes his office. Davis claimed the white city manager, Bennett Adams, had been keeping him from carrying out his mayoral duties. 

The next year, Davis, along with Black City Council member Venterra Pollard, boycotted the city’s meetings because of “discrimination within the city government,” he told a local news outlet. Some of the claims included the absence of Black officers in the police department, and the city’s segregated cemetery, where Black people cannot be buried next to white people. (The wire fence that divided the cemetery was taken down in 2018). In 2018, some citizens of the small town of about 5,000 people wanted to remove Davis from office and circulated a petition that garnered about 200 signatures. In 2019, he did not seek re-election for office.

“You’re not the mayor” 

After being the only person to qualify and submit proper paperwork for any municipal office, Braxton became mayor-elect and the first Black mayor in Newbern’s history on July 22, 2020.

Following the announcement, Braxton appointed members to join his council, consistent with the practice of previous leadership. He asked both white and Black people to serve, he said, but the white people told him they didn’t want to get involved.

The next month, Stokes and the former council members, Broussard, Leverett, Brown Thomas, and Tucker, called a secret meeting to adopt an ordinance to conduct a special election on Oct. 6 because they “allegedly forgot to qualify as candidates,” according to the lawsuit, which also alleges the meeting was not publicized. The defendants deny this claim, but admit to filing statements of candidacy to be elected at the special election, according to their response to an amended complaint filed on their behalf.

Because Stokes and his council were the only ones to qualify for the Oct. 6 election, they reappointed themselves as the town council. On Nov. 2, 2020, Braxton and his council members were sworn into office and filed an oath of office with the county probate judge’s office. Ten days later, the city attorney’s office executed an oath of office for Stokes and his council. 

After Braxton held his first town meeting in November, Stokes changed the locks to Town Hall to keep him and his council from accessing the building. For months, the two went back and forth on changing the locks until Braxton could no longer gain access. At some point, Braxton says he discovered all official town records had been removed or destroyed, except for a few boxes containing meeting minutes and other documents.

Braxton also was prevented from accessing the town’s financial records with the People’s Bank of Greensboro and the city clerk, and obtaining mail from the town’s post office. At every turn, he was met with a familiar answer: “You’re not the mayor.” Separately, he’s had drones following him to his home and mother’s home and had a white guy almost run him off the road, he says. 

Braxton asserts he’s experienced these levels of harassment and intimidation to keep him from being the mayor, he said. 

“Not having the Lord on your side, you woulda’ gave up,” he told Capital B.

‘Ready to fire away’ 

In the midst of the obstacles, Braxton kept pushing. He partnered with LaQuenna Lewis, founder of Love Is What Love Does, a Selma-based nonprofit focused on enriching the lives of disadvantaged people in Dallas, Perry, and Hale counties through such means as food distribution, youth programming, and help with utility bills. While meeting with Braxton, Lewis learned more about his case and became an investigator with her friend Leslie Sebastian, a former advocacy attorney based in California. 

The three began reviewing thousands of documents from the few boxes Braxton found in Town Hall, reaching out to several lawyers and state lawmakers such as Sen. Bobby Singleton and organizations such as the Southern Poverty Law Center. No one wanted to help.

When the white residents learned Lewis was helping Braxton, she, too, began receiving threats early last year. She received handwritten notes in the mail with swastikas and derogatory names such as the n-word and b-word. One of theletters had a drawing of her and Braxton being lynched. 

Another letter said they had been watching her at the food distribution site and hoped she and Braxton died. They also made reference to her children, she said. Lewis provided photos of the letters, but Capital B will not publish them. In October, Lewis and her children found their house burned to the ground. The cause was undetermined, but she thinks it may have been connected.

Lewis, Sebastian, and Braxton continued to look for attorneys that would take the case. Braxton filed a complaint in Alabama’s circuit court last November, but his attorney at the time stopped answering his calls. In January, they found a new attorney, Richard Rouco, who filed an amended complaint in federal court.

“He went through a total of five attorneys prior to me meeting them last year, and they pretty much took his money. We ran into some big law firms who were supposed to help and they kind of misled him,” Lewis says. 

Right now, the lawsuit is in the early stages, Rouco says, and the two central issues of the case center on whether the previous council with Stokes were elected as they claim and if they gave proper notice.

Braxton and his team say they are committed to still doing the work in light of the lawsuit. Despite the obstacles, Braxton is running for mayor again in 2025. Through AlabamaLove.org, the group is raising money to provide voter education and registration, and address food security and youth programming. Additionally, they all hope they can finally bring their vision of a new Newbern to life.

For Braxton, it’s bringing grocery and convenience stores to the town. Quarles wants an educational and recreational center for children. Williams, the First Baptist Church minister, wants to build partnerships to secure grants in hopes of getting internet and more stores.

“I believe we done put a spark to the rocket, and it’s going [to get ready] to fire away,” Williams says at his church. “This rocket ready to fire away, and it’s been hovering too long.”

Correction: In Newbern, Alabama, 29% of the Black population lives below the poverty line. An earlier version of this story misstated the percentage

[mottlemoth]

All over-18s welcome in my DMs for geeking out, nerding around and generalised chat ❤️

Current obsessions below:

Games

Detroit: Become Human (ship: Hank/Connor)

Horizon Zero Dawn (fave: Kotallo)

Baldur's Gate 3 (faves: Halsin, Astarion)

Mass Effect (fave: Garrus, Jack, Shepherd)

The Last of Us (fave: Abby Anderson)

Skyrim

Planet Zoo

Crusader Kings III

TV, Radio & Books

Sherlock (ship: Mycroft/Lestrade)

Agatha Christie (books and TV; fave: David Suchet)

Sherlock Holmes (books and TV; ship: Holmes/Watson)

Lewis

Deadloch

Cabin Pressure

Firefly

The Last of Us

Izzy Hands (ship: Izzy/MOC)

Black Sails (ship: Flint/Hamilton)

House of the Dragon

Rings of Power

Prehistoric Planet

Film

Venom (ship: Eddie/Symbiote)

Galaxy Quest

Megamind

Les Miserables (ship: Javert/Valjean)

Pirates of the Caribbean

Disney Hercules

[ghostchems]

Story idea: Now that Terzo has retired he has to take driving lessons because Imperator won't let any of the ghouls drive him around anymore. Reader is hired to teach him but what happens when love (or just sex) gets in the way of his lessons?

@ramblingoak tagging you bc i know you sent this, haha.

i really took off running with this one!

you drive me (crazy) - papa emeritus iii x fem!reader

a/n: mdni! 18+! there is smut and some angst here. about 2.6k words. ao3 linky!

When Sister Imperator had first directed you to teach the former Papa to drive, you had been ecstatic to have such a big responsibility within the clergy. That is, until the driving lessons started. At first, you thought it was rather cruel of Imperator to force Terzo to learn to drive. He’s never done it in his life and surely there was at least one ghoul who could be relegated to be his driver. You thought that maybe it was some kind of punishment for him, that he needed to fend for himself now and no longer had access to the perks of being Papa or high up in the clergy. 

You started off with such patience during each lesson but gradually over time, it began to wear thin. It was as if no matter what you tried to teach him or show him, he always did the opposite. You’re not sure if he just had a hard time following directions or if he genuinely didn’t know any better. He always seemed distracted, more focused on what the buttons do in the actual car rather than what was going on in the road. The amount of time he spent changing radio channels from station to station drove you up a wall. 

And that wasn’t even including the flirting.

There were times when you would look to him to watch what he was doing and you would find him gazing at you dreamily. For a moment, you would feel a small spark in your chest but then it would be immediately replaced by panic because he wasn’t looking at the road. Every time, you would basically yell at him to keep his eyes in front of him and every time he ended up with a smug grin on his face. It was getting under your skin. 

He would always greet you with a compliment about your appearance and took to calling you Istruttrice (instructor in Italian), rolling his Rs with such dramatics that is almost sounded like he was purring. Terzo also always looked tired, far more tired than you had ever seen him while he was Papa. He usually dressed in all black, black slacks and a black dress shirt that became more and more wrinkled as time went by. Still, he was always so cheerful when he would meet you in the parking lot and he would open the passenger door for you like the gentleman he is. 

You really do feel for him but your sanity is starting to suffer. It’s been almost three months of giving him lessons and he hasn’t progressed at all. 

Today, he is already waiting for you at the car — a junky 2008 Toyota Corolla. He quickly puts out his cigarette using the sole of his shoe when he sees you and hurries to the passenger side to open the door for you.

“Buongiorno, Istruttrice. You are looking radiant this evening.” Terzo purse as you step inside the passenger side of the car and all you can manage is a soft sigh. Your patience is already wearing thin. He gets into the car beside you and turns to you, eyes wide as he waits for your instruction. 

“We are just going to take a quiet drive around the parking lot, okay?” Something simple. Something that surely won’t stress you out.

“Okey dokey, Istruttrice.” He puts the car into drive and starts to slowly inch forward. For a while, he is going painfully slow but it gives you some time to center yourself and calm your nerves. 

Then, he starts to accelerate (still at a slow speed) toward the only other car in the parking lot.

“Papa, where are you going?” There is panic in your voice and your fingers dig into your seat.

“Do not worry. I am only trying to eeehhhh… get a little bit close to it.” 

You hold your breath as he inches closer and closer to the car. Once you are closer to it, you are able to make out that it is Cardinal Copia’s Buick.

“Papa, you are… you’re already very close to the car, could you just —“ You are cut off by Terzo swerving the car out of the way to just miss Copia’s. He gives you a sweet smile but it doesn’t soothe your nerves. “Please don’t do that again.”

“Oh, come on, istruttrice. It is fun! And look, I am doing well, I think, eh?” He purrs as he circles the parking lot slowly but you don’t respond, already on edge. The car accelerates and is once again heading towards the Cardinal’s. You bite your tongue and your eyes are glued to Buick. Terzo gets even closer this time and your breath catches in your throat but he once again swerves at the last moment. 

“It is like a delicate dance, si? I am like a, eh, a bird, dancing for my mate.” 

“Driving isn’t about dancing, it’s about being safe and not hitting other cars.” You know he is trying to make light of the situation but you are not entertaining it, not today.

“It is also about having fun.” Terzo sings to you as he swings the car back around. He hits the gas this time and cruises on back. Your grit your teeth, you jaw clenching and unclenching as his speed increases. 

 the sound of the front bumper hitting Copia’s back bumper. You sit there, stunned for a moment, eyes wide as you stare at the other car. “I can’t do this anymore.”  You bury your head in your hands.

“Istruttrice?”

“Why do you do the opposite of everything I say?!” You are startled by how angry you sound but you’re unable to stop yourself. “I can’t keep doing this! You are impossible to teach and you are making me lose my fucking mind.” It’s harsh. You know it’s harsh.

Terzo looks at you in silence. You can tell that he’s hurt and you start to feel tension building in your chest. Anxiety. Feeling shameful about your outburst. Suddenly, he puts the car in reverse and guns it. He puts his arm on your seat and looks over his shoulder as he effortlessly speeds backwards to the other end of the parking lot. Terzo backs into the farthest spot away from the Abbey and he puts the car into park. 

Silence falls over the two of you. Your jaw is nearly on the floor. The control he exhibited over the car while steering and driving backwards has rendered you speechless. You have no idea what to say.

“I can drive.” Terzo says sheepishly, his hands moving up and down the steering wheel. “I picked it up quickly, thanks to your teaching.” His gaze shifts to you and you notice his eyes look sad.

“Then what… then why—“

“I do not get to do much of anything anymore.” Terzo winces at his own words. “I don’t get to leave the Abbey. I don’t get to spend time with siblings like I used to…” He gives a soft sigh. “I enjoy getting out and spending time with you. I see you more than I see my own brothers.” 

He’s been using you. You press your lips into a thin line as you look back at him. Once again, you are speechless. You swallow thickly and push the car door open, slamming it behind you. Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you walk to the back of the car and lean against the bumper. You need a moment and he gives you at least five minutes before he comes out of the car.

“Per favore, please do not cancel our lessons.” Terzo’s voice is quiet as he approaches you, much different than the suave confidence he usually displays. “I… I watch you out of the corner of my eye as we are driving. The look on your face when you are concentrating makes my heart flutter. And when you’re mad, your nose scrunches up and there is such rage in your eyes — it is adorable.” 

Terzo’s standing in front of you now, shifting from foot to foot while his eyes scan your face. You can feel your cheeks start to burn. He inches closer and even though you are averting your gaze from him you can see his hands are trembling.

“I want to continue seeing you. I want to get out of the Abbey with you. Please.” He gives a shaky breath. You finally look up at him and bite your lip. This man is a mess. But the look on his face… he needs you. He wants you. You feel warmth blossom in your chest. His eyes are soft and he’s breathing heavily. “La mia bellissima istruttrice.” Terzo whispers huskily, his mismatched eyes boring into yours as he reaches for your cheek, his fingers stroking it lightly before slipping to the back of your head. Your eyes flutter and you force yourself to hold back a moan. 

He firmly presses his hand against your head as his lips crash against your, timid at first but they grow feverish and more needy with each shallow breath. His fingers tangle in your hair and he groans into your mouth, his tongue pressing against your lips, begging for entry. Your head is swimming, your cheeks are hot and you are beyond confused but… you part your lips for him. The growl that rips from him as his tongue licks into your mouth sends shivers down your spine.

Terzo pins you against the car with his body, his free hand slipping down your back to your ass and then to your leg, tugging at it to open your legs for him.

“Papa —?” You break free from the kiss, breathing raggedly as you look at him with half-lidded eyes. The wetness between your legs is only growing. He lets go of your head and moves his hand to fiddle with your leggings, pushing them along with your underwear down your legs. Your base ass is now against the car bumper. His forehead presses against yours and he hikes your leg up to prop it on his hip. You can feel how hard he is through his pants and he grinds himself into you. Your eyes fall shut and you tip your head back, a deep moan spilling from your lips. 

“Allow me to give you something, istruttrice, something other than trouble. Maybe this will convince you to continue seeing me, eh?” Terzo works at his own pants, unzipping them and freeing his leaking cock. He drags his cock against your dripping cunt. “Ready for me, si? So wet for your Papa.” Your breath hitches and part of you cannot believe that he is getting this reaction out of you. He angles his hips and pushes the head of his cock inside you, holding it there to take in your reaction.

“You like — ahh — being bad, don’t you, P-papa?” You gasp as you writhe against the car. Terzo blinks at you, his lips swollen and parted and you feel the tip of his cock twitch. He snarls and jerks his hips, pushing into you to the hilt. Your hands sly up to his chest, fingers digging into his rumpled dress shirt. “I know you do.” You struggle to say between choked breaths. “S-show me, ah, how bad you—“

Terzo doesn’t let you finish. His hips snap at a frenetic pace and his mouth latches onto your neck. You cry out and curl your leg further around his hip while your hands grab at his shoulders. He bites and sucks at the sensitive skin on your neck, hard enough to leave marks. His growls and moans vibrate against your neck, filling your ears as he slams into you over and over again.

You feel yourself tensing and flexing around him, his cock massaging your inner walls masterfully. The car behind the two of you is bouncing and rocking with each thrust and for a moment you are afraid that someone might see or hear you. Your attention is fully brought back to him as he presses his tongue just beneath your earlobe, a jolt of arousal shooting through you. His strong hands fall to your ass and he digs his fingers into the soft flesh.

“Is this enough, istruttrice?” Terzo rasps into your ear, feeling his hot breath against you. He gives one thrust and holds himself inside you, waiting for your answer.

“I think you can do better.” You taunt, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You could be a troublemaker too, if you wanted. Terzo’s hand shoots up from your ass and clasps around your throat, squeezing it harshly as he pushes you down onto the trunk of the car. Your hands grab at his arm, holding on for dear life as he pounds into you at a more ferocious angle. Wet, loud sounds fill your ears and you manage to push against each of his thrusts. Your back arches off of the trunk and he squeezes your throat, a string of strangled moans pouring from your lips. Heat is spreading beneath your skin and you feel yourself start to tense around him. 

“F-fuck, istruttrice.” Terzo groans as his thrusts grow more frantic. Your nails dig into his arm, hard enough to break the skin while he squeezes your throat again, this time harder and longer than before. You start to see stars and your eyes roll back as you are pushed over the edge. He isn’t too far behind you, letting go of your throat so he can grip both of your hips. Strangled noises rumble up from his chest before he comes undone, flooding you with his seed.

Terzo’s thrusts slow and he moves to hover over you, his eyes meeting yours before dipping down to kiss your lips. It’s tender and sensual, his soft, pillowy lips melting against yours. You lose yourself to him for a moment, then he breaks away and helps you up off of the trunk of the car. The both of you adjust yourselves with Terzo tucking away his softened cock and you pulling up your leggings. You can feel him dripping out of you.

He steps toward you, closing the space between you and starts to gently rub his thumb along your jaw and then up to your cheek. Your eyes flutter, leaning into his touch as you gaze back into his mismatched eyes.

“Please do not cancel our lessons.” His voice is soft yet stern, his eyes focused on you as he traces your lips with his finger.

“Oh, no. Actually, I think you need more frequent lessons, Papa. Maybe even some classroom time to go over the rules of the road.” You say nonchalantly as you adjust your leggings. Terzo flings his arms around you causing you to lose your balance and fall directly into his chest. He holds you close, his grip on you so tight as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“Grazie, grazie istruttrice.” 

“Don’t thank me.” You give him a squeeze and lean back away from him as he lifts his head from you. “I am just happy to know that you have actually learned from me… meet back here this time tomorrow?” 

Terzo nods happily, still hovering so close to you. You lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll see you then, Papa. Try not to be late.” 

[agoodsongeveryday]

Day Eight Hundred and Twenty Six

Picture me as the whisper that started off as a yell Picture only offering heaven although they give you hell, like Picture that, scripture that Picture that brilliant sister from Sister Act That gave us the miseducation, found those who missed the map And gave 'em hope, just one more 'genn, pictured a extra lap That's love

[notthefirstfallenangel]

Forbidden to die III

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ADULT CONTENT. 18+, blood, violence, death

Summary: Captain Price endures the horrors of a Russian prison as a prisoner of war, and finds some solace in his cell neighbour, who helps him stay strong with their late-night chats.

Words: 2.4k

A/N: I have tried to write multiple endings, but none feel quite right. Despite my best efforts, the conclusion I have written is not to my liking. However, I accept it as the best one I could come up with at this moment.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Death is silent, like a shadow, and takes different shapes and forms. Sometimes invisible, sometimes not. Sometimes tall and thin, sometimes short and squat, sometimes all of the above.

Death is a blur in the shadows, which could be any shape. It’s a shade of grey that appears and disappears. You can’t really see it, but you can feel it. Depending on where it is, you can’t even smell it.

Death is silent and takes different shapes and forms. It is a person, a thing; it is unseen. It is a feeling, a fear, a worry, a burden. It comes in a thousand different forms, and no one knows which, if any of them, will strike down that day.

And that day, it came in the shape of you.

Your hands were covered in blood, the body of a man twitching at your feet as he clutched his throat with the same hands that earlier had held you by your arms and shoved you against the wall.

The guard lay before you; he gasped like a fish pulled from the water. His hands scraped over the wound just under his chin, and the air pumped out of him with ragged gasps like a fish being pulled from the water. His blood spilt onto the floor in squeaking, thick spurts.

You looked at your hands, which were now shaking, and then back up to him- his face twisted in terror and pain. You watched as the man convulsed, his fingers desperately clinging to the hard ceramic beneath him. His body was contorted in a final agonising dance. Then, slowly, the spasms stopped, the body falling flat on the floor in a pool of blood, still and silent.

You paused to take a breath, rivulets of sweat dripping from your forehead. Your heart beat like a thunderstorm inside your chest as your mind raced. You didn’t want to be here; you didn’t want to have to do this. But it had to end this way.

When the creak of the cell door echoed through your chamber, you knew it was the moment of reckoning. The guard arrived with a scowl and dragged you from the shadows, ready to bellow his rage yet again. With your heart pounding in anticipation, you knew this was your chance.

Your sleeve hid the gruesome tool hastily created from an old spoon. Its handle was jagged, like a shark’s tooth, shaped and cut out unevenly. It was thin and slender like a pencil yet more pointed, capable of slicing through any material with just one thrust of its point - perfect for stabbing.

You had set the dominoes in motion, a simple act of anticipating the escape of a day to save Price’s life. But from that one action, everything began to unravel like a loose thread pulled from a sweater. The pieces fell into place with an eerie precision that no one could have foreseen. The air was still silent as you held the sharp, rusty knife tightly, its uneven edge biting into your skin.

The split second stretched into eternity; you knelt down, pulled his radio and gun off his belt, and left the body behind.

The thought of dying weighed heavily on your mind.

If you died, all you’d see would be darkness, the blackness of space; it would envelop you like thick ink flowing through water -the last sight you’d see before being pulled away to the other side.

If you died tonight, you’d close your eyes to relieve the pain and feel yourself float away on a sea of blackness. It would be peaceful, quiet, but not cold or terrifying. It would be an end. Your end.

Your lungs would fail, and you’d fall into a deep, comfortable sleep, never to wake up.

Death is terrifying because it is utterly peaceful.

There were bright, soft visions of Heaven, but you found them unconvincing.

You knew that your fate lay outside that door. You could feel the task’s weight ahead of you like a millstone around your neck. The darkness seemed to press in on you, suffocating and oppressive. But you couldn’t afford to be scared. Not now. You had come too far to turn back now.

The plan was to start a fire, large enough to draw the guards away from their posts and allow the other inmates to break free and possibly take over the prison. The tall flames would eat up the dry hay and brambles like a hungry monster, growing faster as it chewed its way through the field like a bull in a china shop. Once they reached the barbed wire fences, there would be nothing left but ashes.

You moved cautiously toward the door, avoiding the pools of blood as you went. The weight of the radio and gun made your hand unsteady, and your heart thundered in your chest. You took a deep breath and placed your hand on the cold metal handle of the door, pushing it open with a creak.

The hallway outside was dark and empty, but you navigated it with all the grace of a panther stalking its prey. Being a spy meant being invisible, and you had mastered the art of going unnoticed better than anyone else in your field. You moved soundlessly, every step calculated and precise, until you reached your target without a single soul catching even a glimpse of you.

The hour of their reckoning had come, and they would soon feel firsthand the inferno of their own wrongdoing.

--

The prison was oddly quiet, a kind of hush that foretold of a coming evil. Price felt it, too - a tension in the air, like something was about to happen and following him like a dark cloud. The hallway and cell block had an oppressive atmosphere - hot and suffocating. Then he smelled it: the unmistakable odour of smoke, bitter and sharp, that burned his nose and made his eyes water. He could almost taste the powdery ding of black and white smoke and ashes. This smell reminded him of war zones- The cries of the desperate and dying, the stench of death. 

The howls of protests, demands, and desperation were distant but just as urgent.

Price gasped for air as the smoke filled his lungs and flooded his eyes. He fought through that awful burning, choking sensation in his throat, which had become hoarse from all the coughing. His voice was rough from the lingering scent of burning plastic and flesh in his lungs. He coughed again, a harsh cough in response to the lingering stench of chemical waste in this redoubt.

“What the hell-?” He coughed and coughed again.

He crawled on all fours, one hand in front of him and the other gripping his shirt in a vain attempt to shield his lungs from the acrid smoke. His eyes scanned the darkness, desperately searching for an exit as he felt around with his fingers.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a sliver of light shone through. Price blinked in surprise as a figure stepped into the room- he could barely make out his frame.

It was one of the inmates he had grown to know well from his own cell block.

“Quickly, now!” he shouted, grasping him firmly. His thick hands were rough, and his grip iron-like as he pulled him up. The calloused palms almost tore into his wrists as Price found himself suddenly standing.

Price stumbled forward, coughing and wheezing. His eyes watered as he tried to adjust to the sudden brightness of the chaotic hallway. The smoke was thicker here, and the shouted protests and demands of the prisoners were louder. Price could see the desperation in their eyes as they scrambled to get out of the burning building. They pushed and shoved, trampling over each other in their haste to escape.

“What the bloody hell’s happenin’?” he asked, his voice still hoarse.

“We’re breaking out,” the other prisoner said, a hint of excitement in his voice.” Looks like you don’t have to be the sacrificial lamb anymore, huh?”

Price blinked, still trying to process the situation. he still felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter. He could hardly believe it- they were actually escaping. He was filled with a sudden rush of adrenaline as he realised that his days of captivity were finally over.

Price barrelled through the cell door, with a thick cloud of smoke billowing behind him. His eyes darted around the room as he quickly scanned for you. Panic swelled in his chest when he saw that your bed was empty, and worry flooded his expression.

And then it hit him. It was you—you were the mastermind behind all of this.

“What the hell?!” He stopped and stared at the prisoner. “Where the hell is she? “Price’s voice was hoarse from the smoke, and a nervous lump formed in his throat. He tried to hold himself together, but he couldn’t. “God damn it.”

He bellowed out your name, but there was nothing but smoke, prisoners and the sound of shouting. 

The man yanks him by his collar, dragging him through the maelstrom of chaos and wreckage. 

“No!” Price protested, “not without her.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Don’t care ’til I see her, alright? “He snapped back before running in the opposite direction.

--

The hallway was dark and barely lit with an occasional flickering lamp. The floor was dusty, the air thick with dust and smoke. You could feel it getting into your eyes, nose and mouth, which all stung with each breath you took.

The air was filled with choking smoke, but you could still make out a few details. It looked like a prison block; you made your way back to the main core of the prison, grimacing as your injured leg throbbed with pain. The torn skin was slick and sticky. When you tried to feel the severity of the wound, your fingers slipped into the red mass of meat and gore.

You released your grip on the weapon after taking out a few more guards as you headed for the exit. 

The soft clattering sound of it on the ground went unnoticed against the cacophony of gunfire and men screaming in pain. The job was done, and you were almost out, but your blood still boiled as you leaned against the wall for support.

There were sounds of chaos all around, echoing through your mind, slowly numbing your soul.

Slowly, you had taken the corner, but the sharp pain of someone grabbing you by the shoulder and spinning you around made you stumble. You tripped on your feet and tumbled to the ground as a guard loomed above you, pressing his heavy boot into your chest.

You froze as you felt the cold metal press against your skin, and a whimper escaped your lips. Like its owner’s voice, the gun’s muzzle was brutal and unforgiving.

The man’s voice rumbled out of him, deep and menacing like rolling thunder. His words were almost inaudible, but the intensity of his presence was oppressive. He pushed his gun into your back so hard you felt it burn through the fabric of your clothes. His fingers dug into her collarbone with a cruel strength as he snarled, “Tell me, where do you think you’re going, little miss?” The raw aggression behind his voice was a warning - one you could not ignore.

The man’s face contorted into a twisted mask of fury; his eyes burned with a crimson fire that seemed to originate from deep within his soul. A sense of primal fear gripped you as you took in the sight before you. His snarling lips were drawn back, exposing his crooked teeth and the jagged scar tissue that stretched like a grotesque mask over his features. The man’s voice cut through the air, sharp and cruel like a razor blade.

” I’ll have to make you an example now.”

Your chest was constricted with panic as you struggled to breathe.

You knew that this was it. You were trapped, and there was no way out. The man’s grip on you only tightened, sending waves of pain coursing through your body. You tried to speak, but your throat constricted, and no sound came out. 

There was a coldness in your heart, something telling you to prepare yourself. There would be no falling asleep and drifting away to endless sleep; this time, you would see what lay beyond the veil. It was time to die.

--

The sky was bright and crystal blue, a contrast to the rocky, grey landscape the hospital window overlooked. The air was cold that day, but the weather was nice. A calm wind blew from the east.

Hospital rooms were quiet, too quiet. The occasional beeping of machinery or whispers of doctors and nurses speaking were hushed, like the clatter of the floor tiles as they walked.

Your voice suddenly broke the hush, saying, “No smoking here.”

Price sat in a chair beside your bed, his face weathered but his body lean and mean. His hands clutch a plastic cup of tea. He smiled at you.

“Smoke’s good for a patient like you...” Another plume of thick, acrid smoke exhales from him. “Besides, you’re supposed to be restin’, love.”

“The nurse is going to kick you out like last time,” you warned him.

The back of his hand brushed against your cheek, and he leaned toward you slightly. “I’ll kick the nurse’s scrawny ass out… “

You chuckled. “It’s bad for your health.”

“I’m not the one layin’ in a hospital bed,” he said.

Price looked up and into your eyes, watching them as they dart around the room, taking the measure of everything. He e had been enamoured with your sparkling, luminous eyes. He needed to look into them—his expression warm and full of adoration. It was a look you’d never seen before.

“Because I saved your life.”

“And I saved yours, remember?” His fingertips gently glided down the side of your head, his touch sending soft shivers down your spine. His fingers delicately combed through your hair.

“I guess we’re even.”

You both shared a moment of silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. The sound of beeping machines and faint whispers seemed to disappear, and it was just the two of you in the room. 

“I don’t know where I’d be without you,” he finally said, breaking the silence. 

You smiled weakly, your hand reaching out to take his. “I’m just glad we made it out alive.” 

Price’s thumb stroked your knuckles as he gazed at you with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. You knew he was a man of few words, but every word had a depth of meaning when he spoke.

“We did it together,” he whispers, his accent thick and gravelly. “And we’ll keep doin’ it together, no matter what comes our way.”

Tags: @8sy-errah8 @fanficwriterlover @i-ameri-cant @littleone65 @cosmoscoffeee @cj-theyoungling @time-for-tmblr @shuttlelauncher81

[chaos-and-recover]

Hey, c'mere a minute. Listen to me. I know it's been a bit of a day what with the Sleep Token Instagram being wiped clean in the midst of all the doxxing bullshit going on, but I think we're maybe getting a little hysterical. There is so, so much evidence that wiping the Instagram is part of a calculated move to launch a new era, and not a signal that they're walking away. Let's lay it out.

II, III and IV revealed new looks at the Wembley show; Vessel didn't

They posted a link to Ascensionism on YouTube today, and while people are drawing a line between the doxxing and "you make me wish I could disappear" I would like to instead draw your attention to the line "You're gonna watch me ascend"

Sundowning, This Place Will Become Your Tomb and Take Me Back To Eden tell a story. They're a trilogy. The end of Euclid calls back to The Night Does Not Belong to God. It's full circle, end-of-an-era stuff. But if the end of the era was the band itself it would be absolute nonsense to put all that work into designing new aesthetics for 3/4 of the band for ONE SHOW.

The website is still up and the Twitter is still active. It's only Instagram that got cleared out, and even then the saved story highlights are all still there

As has certainly been pointed out by others this is not uncommon. Paramore has done this at leas twice. I feel like Hayley does it semi-regularly on her own account, as well as periodically just leaving social media in general. All members of AFI and their official account changed their profile images to just black ahead of the release of their 2017 album. It's a Thing.

Tour dates!! They still have tour dates. They're going to Australia with Bring Me The Horizon in April (Australia I am SEETHING WITH JEALOUSY). They have Radio City Music Hall, Red Rocks and Sonic Temple

This Tweet:

This now-deleted post from a radio station in Iowa:

This also-removed listing on Ticketmaster (screenshot taken today, Jan 16, 2024:

(The removal of these two items is NOT an indication that they've been cancelled but rather an indication that someone posted them too early)

Yeah, the doxxing sucks. It's got to be stressful for them. But there's also been radio silence from the band and their camp on it and I think that's absolutely the right call -- there are potential legal consequences and it very well could be something lawyers are dealing with. Remember that this is the music BUSINESS and they are not defenseless little meow meows in this. A line has been crossed, boundaries violated, that sucks, that's unforgivable, but I genuinely don't believe we're gonna see the end of the band over it. I mean they are WAY too committed to the bit to let this slow them down.

I think instead we are going to get a tour announcement, and I think we're going to get it as early as this week. Maybe early next week.

We might even get new music or a new reveal from Vessel between now and the Australia dates.

Now let my depressed ass go back to crying to Atlantic on repeat and let's all calm down.

[matty-bear]

III. Heat Of The Moment [N.S]

Type: Chapter three of The Influencer series

Pairing: Nick Sturniolo x Male!OC

Warnings: SFW, fluffy

Summary: Nick and Finn have a very successful shopping spree and have a small recap in a McDonald’s parking lot. What will happen when things get a little heated when Finn uses a silly excuse to get closer to Nick in the car? 

Notes: Writing this chapter took me so long cuz I hit a block 😖 I started sweating cuz I thought I wouldn’t be able to finish the chapter today but I did 🔥 Happy reading and hope you enjoy this chapter! :DD

WC: 3541

CH1 CH2

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

“Dude, you found so much shit at those thrift stores. Like I’m honestly jealous.” Finn says, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he chews on a few french fries. 

“Says the person who hit the jewelry jackpot literally minutes after.” Nick retorts, a small laugh escaping him as he digs in his McDonald’s bag. 

The moon and stars have finally overtaken the sun in the sky as Nick and Finn sat in a McDonald’s parking lot. About ten bags full of clothes and accessories were in the back seat of Finn’s car, a clear sign that both boys had a very successful shopping spree.

It took them a minute to figure out what they wanted to eat and when Nick suggested McDonald’s, Finn immediately agreed and he drove to the nearby joint. Now they were talking about whatever their minds desired to help pass time. 

“Okay true, but like 50 percent of the bags in the back are sweaters and jackets you found at the thrift stores. I actually wanna steal that black and gray star sweater you found in one of the bins.” Finn defends, his eyes shooting up to bore into Nick’s. 

“You can borrow it if you want. I know I'll be wearing it a lot but I won’t mind you borrowing it when I’m not wearing it.” Nick suggests, his eyes shifting up and locking with Finn’s for a moment before he breaks it by looking down at the food in his lap. 

“You serious?”

“One hundred percent! Just text me when you wanna wear it and I’ll head over to yours and give it to you.” Nick looks up at Finn, a small smile spreading across his lips when the latter smiles widely and stuffs another fry in his mouth. 

“I’ll make the best fits I swear. I won’t let you down.” Both males giggled at Finn’s statement before silence fell over the two as they focused on finishing their food. Feeling rather uncomfortable with the silence and occasional chewing, Finn reached over to the radio and turned it up, the voice of Chase Atlantic immediately filling the car. After a few minutes, Nick and Finn both finished their food and sat back against their seats. 

“That was really fucking good.” Finn states as he looks over at Nick, his eyes trailing over his delicate features that are highlighted by the moonlight shining through the windshields 

“Oh, for sure.” Nick agrees with a small nod. “My McFlurry being mixed brought me pure happiness.” Having the feeling that someone’s staring at him, the red-head turns his head to look at Finn, panic flooding through his veins when he realizes that the male was already looking at him. The latter, feeling embarrassed that he got caught staring, quickly turns away and clears his throat, the small blush on his cheeks barely being evident to Nick who’s still looking at him.

“Do I have something on my face?” The red-head asks, trying to play off his flusteredness as he adjusts his position in his seat. 

“Umm..” Finn begins, looking back over at Nick. He finds himself staring at the male again before he leans in closer towards him. “Yeah, you have a little something right here…”

Nick’s eyes widen in panic as Finn raises his hand up to his face and gently brushes his thumb over his lip. The older’s eyes shift up from the red-head’s lips to his eyes, which are still slightly widened in panic. Finn’s gaze softens as he looks at Nick, his thumb still resting on his bottom lip as they both lock eyes. The two stay in that position for a moment, the only sound being their light breathing and the faint sound of a singer playing on the radio. 

Before either boys had the chance to potentially do something more, the loud sound of a car honking startled both of them. Finn jumps at the sudden sound and quickly retreats back to his seat as Nick immediately looks down at his lap, the rings on his fingers seeming to be the most interesting thing at the moment. Both males share the same shade of blush on their cheeks as they sit in the car, the newfound tension eating both of them up alive in a matter of seconds.

“You ready to head out?” Finn asks suddenly, his voice cracking slightly due to his nervousness. Nick doesn’t say anything in response and instead nods his head. Finn clears his throat once more as he reaches for the gear shift to put the car in drive, regret and embarrassment filling him as he drives out of the parking lot. 

~~~~~~ 

“This is your place, right?” Finn asks as he pulls into Nick's driveway. 

“Yup.” The latter replies sadly, a small frown appearing on his lips as he peers out the window to see the large house in front of him. 

“You need help with hauling all the bags inside?” Nick quickly whips his head around to face Finn, his face lighting up as he looks at the male. 

“Please?” Finn nods his head with a small smile before he opens his door and slips out of the car, Nick following soon after. The red-head scans the passenger seat to make sure he didn’t forget anything before he shuts the door and opens the backseat.

He goes to bend down to grab his bags off the floor of the car but halts when he sees Finn grabbing most of his bags. When the latter goes to stand up properly, his eyes land on Nick and a small giggle escapes him when he sees his dumbfounded expression.

“You good over there?” Finn asks, a small smile creeping up onto his lips as he stares at the male across from him. 

“Yeah…” Nick replies, his tall frame bending down to grab the remainder of his bags. “You don’t have to take most of my stuff, you know.” 

“I know.” Nick furrows his eyebrows in confusion before both him and Finn shut the back seat doors. Nick waits for the older to run up to him before he guides him up to his house. He sets one of his bags down to fish his keys out of his pocket and unlock the door. 

“Small house tour I suppose.” Nick jokes as he picks the bag back up and walks inside. A small chuckle from Finn causes a small smile to appear on Nick’s lips as he ascends the steps, the blue-haired male following close behind him.

When Nick arrives at the top of the steps, he whips his head around to scan the first floor. When he doesn’t see Matt or Chris, he lets out a small sigh of relief and turns around to look at Finn, his doe eyes looking up at him making his heart skip a few beats. 

“You can set the bags in my room.” Nick starts as he turns back around and walks to his staircase. “If you see that it’s a mess, no it’s not.” Nick shoots Finn a small smile before he guides him up the steps and passes the small loft area to go to his bedroom. 

He nudges the door open with his foot and walks inside, ‘Blind’ by SZA immediately filling his ears as he walks further inside his room. Finn walks inside Nick’s bedroom shortly after he does and looks around the room, his eyes slightly widening in amazement at the sight of the multitude of electronics, posters, and small trinkets in his room. 

“Dude, your room is sick.” Finn says, the sight of the bat phosphorescence fixture on his nightstand bringing a small smile to his face. 

“Thanks. It needs a little more decoration but I’m happy with where it is right now.” Nick replies with a smile as he sets the bags in his hands down near the foot of his bed. “You can set the bags here by the way.” 

“Oh, right.” Finn tears his focus away from the bat fixture and hurries over to Nick and sets the bags down. A small huff escapes his lips as he shakes his arms and looks over at the red-head, his gaze softening as he looks at him. 

“I really enjoyed hanging out with you today, Finn.” Nick says softly, his head turning to look over at the mentioned male who quickly looks away to avoid being caught staring again. 

“Same here.” Finn agrees, a small smile spreading across his lips as he looks back at the younger. “Thanks for the small house tour.” 

A small laugh escapes Nick’s lips. “Don’t mention it.” 

“Do I owe you a house tour now?” 

“I’m afraid you do.” Nick shoots Finn a teasing smile before he continues, “I’m actually dying to see what your place looks like. I feel like you’d have a badass room.” 

“Don’t have your standards too high now. I have a pretty simplistic place. My room on the other hand is a whole different story.” 

“So you have a sick ass room?” 

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see for yourself.” Finn laughs softly when Nick frowns, his long legs taking him to walk closer to him and ruffle his hair. 

“Hey!” Nick exclaims as he playfully shoves Finn’s hand off his head. “Can I go over to yours next hangout then?” 

“I don't see why not.” Finn replies, his smile growing at the sight of Nick smiling widely. “Say, ima head out now. I need to figure out where ima put all the shit I found.”

“Lemme walk you out!” Finn nods his head softly at Nick’s suggestion and he takes one more glance around his bedroom before exiting and heading downstairs. Nick follows closely right behind the male, a dorky smile staying glued onto his lips as they both exit the house and step outside again.

He watches as Finn takes his keys out of his pocket to unlock his car, the bright orange headlights lighting up a small section of the sidewalk as they both walk up to the older’s vehicle. 

Nick stops a few steps away from Finn’s car as the latter runs over to get in the drivers seat. The male buckles himself in and sets his hand on the gear shift before he looks over at Nick through the passenger window. He looks down at his door to roll down the window and bends his head down a little to see the red-head better, the smile the male is sending him causing him to smile himself. 

“Today was fun.” Finn shouts, his voice barely being audible over the rumbling of the car’s engine. 

“I agree!” Nick replies. “I’ll be looking forward to our next hangout.” 

“Same here. I’ll text you later! Goodnight, Nick!” 

“Goodnight, Finn!” With that, Finn rolls his window back up and waves goodbye to Nick before he drives off. Nick watches his car grow smaller as he drives down the street and he turns to go back inside when his Tesla is out of sight.

A stupid smile grows onto his lips as he shuts the door and ascends up the staircase. The moment he steps foot in the living room, he jumps when he’s met with Matt and Chris staring at him.

“What…” Nick mumbles, slowly taking a few steps towards the kitchen. 

“You brought Finn in.” Chris states. 

“He volunteered to help me carry my bags in. That’s it.” 

“You two were up in your room for a good minute. Did y’all do anything fishy?”

“Chirs!” Matt scolds as he smacks the younger’s bicep. “How did y’all’s hangout go?” 

“Good!” Nick replies, an immediate smile appearing on his lips as he fills a glass up with water. “He brought me to a lot of shops and I hit the jacket pot at the thrift stores. Finn himself found some pretty cool shit at the well known shops but I definitely bought more stuff than he did.” 

“Care to share what you bagged?” 

“Hmm…” Nick hums in thought as he puts the glass we was using back in the cupboard. “Maybe tomorrow. Ima go up to my room to sort everything out.”

“Alright, see ya Nick.” Nick bids the two boys goodbye before he walks up his stairs, a long yawn racking through his body as he stretches his sore limbs. When Matt hears the male’s door shut, he turns around to glare at Chris.

“What?” The younger asks as he turns around in his spot on the sofa. 

“You need to stop being up his ass about Finn. That’s why he hasn’t told you shit.” Matt scolds, his eyes rolling his annoyance. 

“Dude, I wanna fucking know what’s happening and who the hell this kid is! I don’t want Nick hooking up with a guy who’s gonna screw him over.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, but I doubt Finn is like that. He genuinely seems like a nice and chill guy who wouldn’t wanna cause any harm to Nick. And I’m sure we’d know if he pulled something by now. Just take a chill pill and tone it down a little. I’m sure Nick will tell you all the shit he told me if you stop getting on his ass.” 

A heavy sigh escapes Chris’ lips as he rubs his hands over his face and gets up. “Alright. But if that guy pulls anything on Nick, I’m finding where he lives and putting his ass on blast.” 

“Me and you both.” Matt nods his head in agreement and watches with furrowed eyebrows when Chris walks to the staircase leading down to his room. “Where are you going?”

“I wanna play Fortnite.” 

“Can I join you?”

“Hell yeah. Go hop on and I’ll invite you to my party when I see that you’re online.” 

“Word. Ima go up to Nick’s room real quick and text you when I hop on.” 

“Word.” Matt gets off the sofa and grabs his phone off the armrest as Chris heads downstairs to his room, his footsteps growing quieter with every step he takes.

Matt walks over to Nick’s staircase and walks up the steps, the voice of Melanie Martinez growing louder as he gets closer to the older’s bedroom. When he arrives at Nick’s door, he knocks softly a few times before he lets himself in. 

“What’s up, Matt.” Nicks says as he pulls a hoodie over his head. 

“Just wanted to come in to know about the details regarding the hangout today.” Matt replies as he takes a seat on the red-heads bed. He looks over at Nick, the smile growing on his lips causing him to smile himself before the older walks over and sits next to him. 

“Well…” Nick begins, a stupid and dorky smile staying glued onto his lips as he looks down at his hands. “We went to some thrift stores first and like I said before, I hit the jackpot and dropped like 200 bucks combined at the two thrift stores we went too. Finn didn’t really find anything apart from a few tees so we went to some other shops. That’s when he found the jewelry jackpot and bought a shit ton of accessories. He found such cool and cute shit like I’m honestly jealous. Anyways, we kept walking around, went into a few more stores to look around, and window shopped before we called it a day and went back to his car. At this point we're both a little hungry so we ended up settling on getting McDonald’s. So he ordered, paid for both of us even though I told him not to, drove to the parking lot and we sat there and talked some more. And then… um..” 

At the sight of Nick growing quiet and his face flushing, Matt’s jaw drops and he shoves his shoulder. 

“DID YOU TWO KISS?!” Matt practically screams. “Nicolas Antonio Sturniolo! I thought you preached about taking baby steps in relationships and here you are sucking face with a guy on the first hangout?” 

“NO!” Nick exclaims,his body jumping on the bed a single time as his face grows hot. “We didn’t kiss! Listen to me!” 

“I’m listening, kid”. Nick bites down onto his bottom lip and looks down to fidget with the hem of his hoodie. 

“When I turned around to look at Finn, I caught him staring at me…” Nick starts, looking up to look at Matt who nods his head and gestures him to continue. “When he realized he got caught, he quickly turned around. I then proceeded to ask if there was anything on my face and he said yeah and started leaning into me. You do not understand how much I was panicking when he brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. He kept his hand on my lip and we both locked eyes for a good minute. I swear to god he was gonna make another move but a stupid, loud ass car ruined our moment.” 

“He definitely likes you, Nick.” 

“You really think so?”

“Nick, don’t be dense. He said that you had something on you as an excuse to touch your lips and probably would’ve kissed you if y’all weren’t interrupted.” 

“You’re right...” Nick falls back onto his bed as he covers his face with his hands. “I think he regretted it though.”

Matt looks down at the older with a confused expression. “What makes you say that?” 

“He seemed embarrassed after that whole thing happened and didn’t speak to me on our way here. He seemed very flustered, Matt.” 

“Maybe it was the heat of the moment type thing.” Matt lands a reassuring hand on Nick’s knee. “I’m sure he’s just like you right now; being really confused on whether or not he has feelings for you. Just, take it slow alright? Don’t jump into relationships so quickly, they end very quickly, trust.” 

“I know, I know…” Nick removes his face from his hands and looks up at Matt. “He said I could go over to his place for the next hangout so I’ll get to know him more then. I mean we hit it off really well today but I’d rather be safe than sorry.” 

“I completely agree. Set boundaries if you get uncomfortable or if he starts taking things a little too quickly for your liking. Don’t let him step over you, Nick. I don’t wanna see you getting hurt. Especially considering how you’re actually making progress towards a possible relationship right now. You’ve never gotten this far with crushes before and it’s so endearing to see you get all excited about this guy.” 

A small smile spears on Nick’s lips as he sits back up. “I promise I’ll tread carefully about this.  And thanks for understanding me and not being up my ass like someone.” 

A small chuckle escapes Matt’s lips when he sees Nick roll his eyes. “Speaking of Chris, I told him to get off your ass and calm the hell down. He said he’s just worried about the kind of guy Finn is since he doesn’t really know the guy. I also think that him teasing you is just the younger sibling in him. You know how he gets when either of us have sudden love interests.”

“Oh, I know. I just don’t need him being weird when Finn comes over to hangout.” 

“Rest assured that when he comes over, I’ll make sure Chris doesn’t come near either of you.” 

“Thanks, Matt.” Nick smiles warmly at the latter, the younger returning the smile with one of his own. “If he really gets off my ass about Finn, I’ll tell him all the details and shit. But as of right now, he’s not getting shit from me because he’s being really fucking annoying. And you better not be telling him anything!” 

“I’m not, I swear! It’s your business to tell, not mine.” Nick sends a suspicious glare towards Matt as the younger raises his hands up in defense. 

“Okay, good…” Nick sends one more glare to the younger before he drops the act and lets out a tired sigh. “Okay respectfully, can you please get the fuck out? I’m really tired.” 

“Yes, sir.” Matt giggles when Nick swats his side with a pillow. He quickly backs away from the older and sends him an innocent smile. “Goodnight, Nick.” 

“Night, Matt.” Matt leaves the room and gently shuts the door behind him as Nick falls back onto his bed with a sigh. A small smile spreads across his lips when ‘High School Sweethearts’ by Melanie Martinez plays through the speakers on his desk. He scoots back on his bed a little to lay down on his back more comfortably before he slips under the covers. He fixes his gaze onto his ceiling as he softly sings along to the lyrics, his fingers lightly drumming along to the beats on his blanket.

He lays there for a moment, tiredness taking over his body every second that passes by. Eventually, the song ends and ‘Recess’ begins to play. Melanie’s soft and calming voice ends up lulling Nick to sleep as she sings the first verse, the music creating background music in the red-heads dreams as he sleeps soundly. 

[ironclark]

The Halloween set of Keyblades is done! This time featuring the classic Fatal Frame franchise! Fatal Frame 1 - 5 along with the 3DS Spirit Camera! 

PHOTOSHOOT - 

A Keyblade modeled after the ghost-filled mansion of Fatal Frame! This Keybkade increases the amount of health dropped by enemies. The hilt of the keyblade is designed in combination of Miku's Camera Obscura and the Himuro Mansion. The shaft of the blade is designed after the various torches seen throughout the mansion, with one being present in the center. The teeth of the blade is formed from the blue fire that is left behind when Miku exorcises a spirit with her camera. The keychain is designed after the hanging ropes found in the mansion with the Token being that of the Type-90 Film, the strongest film in the game. The World Logo is the infamous Himuro Mansion where Miku is trapped in. The name comes from when you have several photos taken in a location. 

TWIN WINGS-

A Keyblade designed after the butterfly motif from Fatal Frame II: Crimson Butterfly! This Keyblade is designed to double the damage of your attacks! The hilt of the Keyblade is designed after Mio Amakura's Camera Obscura and Spirit Stone Radio with the cross guard having the first set of crimson butterfly wings. The shaft of the keyblade is made of twin pillars holding the saving lamp. The teeth is formed with a second crimson butterfly. The keychain is made of Spirit Stones with the token being Mayu's Charm. The World Logo is that of the hidden village that Mio and Mayu are trapped in. The name comes from the dual themology of twins and butterflies.

SLEEPING SERPENT-

A Keyblade designed after the tattooed motifs of Fatal Frame III: The Tormented! This keyblade is designed to inflict sleep on targets. The hilt and along the saft of the keyblade eventually forming the teeth is that of a blue snake, representing the blue snake tattoo that Rei Kurosawa gets throughout the game. Along this snake is several holly flowers representing the tattoo that Miku gets. The handle and shaft of the blade is formed with the Puryfiying Light candle. The token is that of the Echo Stone Earrings of the Kuze family. The World Logo is the Manor of Sleep, a sleeping world that traps those with the Tattoo curse. The name comes from the sleeping and snake motifs in the game.

WANING MEMORIES-

A Keyblade modeled after the moon motif in Fatal Frame IV: Mask of the Lunar Eclipse! This Keyblade is designed to have stronger Aero attacks! The guard and shaft of the blade is designed after stylized clouds found in the title screen. The crossguard has the titular Mask of the Lunar Eclipse. The hilt of the blade is that of the Spirit Stone Flashlight. The keychain is made up of the Spirit Orb charges with the Token being that of the Hozuki Doll collectables. The World Logo is the cursed island that the came takes place on. The name comes from the fact that all the protagonists suffer from amensia as well as the phases of the moon. 

TAINTED WATERS-

A Keyblade modeled after the waters in Fatal Frame V: Maiden of the Black Water! This keyblade is designed to increase the power of Water spells! The guard, shaft and teeth of the blade are designed after classical depictions of water in Japanese paintings. The crossgaurd features one of the headdresses of the Maidens. The pommel is the head of a Reliquary key, with the hilt and keychain token being inspired by it as well. The token is the flower of the titual Maiden of the Black Water. The World Logo is the mountain in which all the tragedies related to the Maidens take place. The name comes from the fact that the once pure waters are now tainted by black.

RECORDS OF BONDS-

A Keyblade modeled after the haunting book from Spirit Camera: The Cursed Memoir! This Keyblade is designed to have a combo increaser! The hilt of the keyblade is designed after this game's Camera Obscura with the handle being inspired by Maya's design. The shaft of the blade is formed from the ghostly essence from the Purple Diary. The Teeth is formed like a hand from the ghostly essence. The token is the amulet found within the diary. The World Logo is the infamous book. The name comes from a synonym of "Book" and "Tome" as well as the bonds of Maya. 

[tavolgisvist]

It was at Stoky Wood* (badge - black and yellow, with a picture of a Spitfire flying over the River Mersey) that Paul and I saw our first film. We were seated on long wooden benches watching Crime Buster Dick Barton**, a great radio hero of ours, when it became too much for Paul. In the flickering half light I watched with great amusement as Big Brother stumbled over me and his pals to exit screen left, scared out of his tiny mind. He wasn't scared when it came to smaller things such as bullies, however, and many's the time he came to my rescue in the school play yard. 'Big Brother have a use after all,' I thought.

*Stockton Wood Primary School, Speke, Liverpool **Dick Barton: Special Agent, was released in May 1948 Btw, Paul's 'I have another memory, of hiding from someone, then hitting them over the head with an iron bar' is the story about Stoky Wood too (Paul was at Stockton Wood Primary School from September 1947 until July 1951)

My memories of brother and I are of two independent little chaps, but Uncle and Auntie,s remembrances are of 'two right little swine', always up to mischief, or with their backs to the wall saying, 'We won't… WE WON'T!' I'm sure they're just a might confused. I do remember a few instances, however, which might give their memories some validity. Like the memory of Paul and me in 72 Western speeding up the growth of next door's apples by throwing stones at the apple tree, and then vigorously denying it. The stones on the other side let us down! Memories of being boss of my own gang in the later Stockton Wood years and charging against the 'enemy' across the school yard in full war cry (obviously why the headmistress Miss Margaret A. Thomas, who used to make the school toys herself, advised the world that one day I would be a 'Leader of men').*** And the came an older bully unto the yard who hit little girls and maketh them cry, and it behove me to teach unto him a lesson: Seeing that I was far too young and weedy to challenge him personally, I chose a friend to talk for me…(no, not Paul)…a housebrick! Being, as I've said, a holy lad it wasn't too difficult to levitate the brick up into the air…over the Bully's thick head…and cut (snip!) the invisible strings. After this bloody, awful incident, he didn't bully little girls, or anyone else for that matter, ever more.

(Mike McCartney, 1981, Thank U Very Much. Mike McCartney's Family Album)

***'I remember the headmistress saying how good the two boys were with younger children,' says Jim, 'always sticking up for them. She said Michael was going to be a leader of men. I think this was because he was always arguing. Paul did things much quieter. He had much more nous. Mike stuck his neck out. Paul always avoided trouble.'

(The Beatles: The Authorised Biography by Hunter Davies, 2010, Updated Edition)

Also:

They were four tough kids from Liverpool who’d learned their craft playing in hotel-cum-brothels in Hamburg. I mean, they were tough. They grew up in Liverpool, which was a tough city. It’s like growing up in Detroit or somewhere. Somewhere, that toughness always comes out. <…> This just goes back to where they came from. Liverpool is a tough town. I wouldn't particularly want to run into Paul McCartney in a dark alley, if he didn't like me.

(Michael Lindsay-Hogg, May 2024, interview with Rob Sheffield for Rolling Stones)

(I), (III)

[theodorecanaryhood]

The Coffee shop guy and the Red Hood

Part III

Jason Todd x Male! Reader

Festivals, carnivals, concerts….Jason loved to go them with you. You seemed to be such a thrill seeker, Jason loved it about you.

On the car ride to the new theme park that had opened, you sat in the passengers seat with your nose buried in a book, Jason swore your glasses would get steamed up with how close the pages were to your face.

Jason found it adorable that you could sit for hours and hours, reading like the books would vanish. All the while, you always thought it rude to sit and not talk to the person you’re with.

Jason never minded as he always had the radio to keep him busy, plus he also liked books too.

Jason breathed calmly as he drove along the highway, resting his hand on your thigh. Every so often he glanced over to you, seeing you so hooked on the story in black and white.

Jason also caught himself glancing at you every now and then to check you were really there, as Jason always felt like he was dreaming. A dream he never wanted to wake up from.

‘We almost there?’ You broke the silence, Jason side smiled as he checked his phone.

‘Uh, about 20 minutes’ he answered, still side smiling.

‘What you smiling about?’ You asked, Jason looked at you.

‘I just love the sound of your voice’ Jason responded, you blushed a little as you pushed your glasses up your face.

‘Stop it’ you blushed more as Jason laughed, reaching his hand over and tickling your side.

Jason loved these moments with you, just the small moments. You with him, that’s all he wanted.

‘I love you’ you looked deep into Jason’s eyes as he smiled, you leaning in and pecking him on the cheek.

‘I love you too, and I love that ass. To which I will pound respectfully tonight’ Jason responded, turning his eyes back to the road.

‘How about you pound it disrespectfully instead’ Jason shot his eyes on you, placing his hand on your upper thigh, blushing.

The two of you reached the theme park to where Jason got out the car, rushing over to your side. Opening the car door for you.

‘Treat your bottom like the Prince he is’ Jason held out his hand for you, which made you laugh.

‘I think I saw that on TikTok once’ you smiled, taking Jason’s hand in yours as you walked to the gates.

The two of you walked around the theme park hand in hand, waiting in lines for rides. You loved the big roller coasters the most, which always surprised Jason.

‘Wait’ Jason said as he placed his hands on your waist, pressing his lips on yours, licking your lips for permission to go further.

Course people looked on, some not even phased while others were out of sorts, not used to seeing a gay couple show affection. But still, not caring.

On the top of a drop of a massive coaster, Jason grabbed your hand and lifted his and yours in the air. Cheering as he enjoyed the drop back to the ground.

Jason then took you over to the arcades, the games they had, the Photo Booth and other things.

It was a day that was slowly becoming night as it got dark quickly, Jason wasn’t even sure when it got darker.

‘They close in an hour, shall we go on the ferris wheel then head back home?’ You asked, Jason nodded as the two of you walked over to it.

It’s surprising how everyone you ever dated before hated the ferris wheel. They always said it was boring. But to you, it’s your favourite.

You and Jason sat together watching as the City got smaller as you both rose to the top of the ferris wheel. Jason grabbed your hand and gave it a small kiss.

Jason had slept for about two hours as he rolled around in his bed, finally giving up and going back on his phone to watch some videos.

The week days were hard as you stayed home, seeing as you lived closer to your work. But that just meant Jason had to sleep alone. Which he hated.

Friday night came round real quick and Jason was preparing for a big question. He’d been looking all day and found a great two bedroom apartment.

‘Hey’ you cheered as you ran over and hugged Jason, kissing him so deep it hurt Jason when you pulled away.

You’d planned tonight so you lead the way to the club. A new club that opened that was apparently the best on the city.

‘I’m going to get us some drinks, grab a seat babe’ you said to Jason as you walked over to the bar.

Jason sat and smiled to himself as he watched you at the bar, he also watched as a woman walked over to do the same.

After a couple of hours, Jason was starting to feel the affects of the drinks. Jason gets snuggly and horny when he drinks. So of course Jason’s hands were all over you in seconds.

‘It’s almost midnight, we should get home soon, shall I call an Uber?’ You asked Jason, trying to remain a little more sober so that you both got home safely.

Jason slid into the back of the Uber as he pulled you towards him, sinking his teeth into your neck. Jason growled a little as he grabbed into your ass.

‘Not in someone else’s car’ you laughed as you placed your hands on Jason’s chest, gently pushing him off you, then pushing your glasses up a little.

Jason rushed into the apartment quickly as you thanked the Uber driver. Walking over to the door and walking inside, to see Jason gulping down water.

‘Thirsty?’ You smiled as Jason placed the glass into the sink.

‘More ways than one, you sexy fucker’ Jason replied as he walked over to you, his face diving in and his lips were on yours.

You ran your hands up Jason’s shirt as Jason sunk his teeth into your neck again, you moaned out a little as Jason pushed you against the wall.

Not too sure how much time had passed but it was suddenly sunny out, Jason was still on top of you. Your legs still around his waist.

‘God, we’ve been going at this all night’ Jason smiled as he saw the time.

You laughed as you kissed Jason’s face and collarbone. Jason gripped your hair as he began kissing down your body and sinking his head under the covers.

‘Oh, Jason’ you moaned out in pleasure as Jason was under the covers.

Couple of hours went by and you sat at the table with your coffee, your glasses steaming up from the heat of the contents of the cup in your hand.

‘I have a present for you baby’ Jason said as he sat opposite you.

‘Another blowjob?’ You chuckled as you took a sip of your coffee, Jason laughed, handing you a small box.

You opened the little box as saw a key, very confused you looked at Jason, who reached over and took your hand.

‘Let’s move in together, I miss you in the week. And I love sleeping next to you. I love you and want to have as much time you as possible’ Jason said.

You stood up and walked over to Jason, who remained sitting, you wrapped your arms around Jason’s neck as he buried his head into your chest.

‘I love you too, and of course I want to live with you’

You remained the way you were until Jason rose to his feet and pulled you in for a hug. Smiling as he began kissing you.

‘Another blowjob?’ Jason asked as he picked you up off your feet, carrying you to the bedroom.

Your laughed as Jason beamed from the new chapter in your lives.