#i found one of the songs like 2 days ago and its been downhill from there

[furute]

if you were to tell me a week ago that i would be making trolls fanart in the near future i would not believe you

i drew these all in pencil then colored with the magical ibis paint x app because i was not about to use markers

e boy

[bokubonk]

i think i’m in love

content: fluff, coffee shop au

characters: sugawara x reader

date: 2/9/21

word count: 1.5k+

notes: this was inspired by “action!’ by DPRLive. It’s an amazing song so you guys should definitely give it a listen if you haven’t already. Also I’m not really satisfied with the way this turned out but I put way too much effort in to just not post it so I hope y’all like it even if it does suck. 

He didn’t know how many days it had been. All he knew was the smell of coffee, the scent of your perfume that lingered every time you passed by, the colorful nail polish that never seemed to chip even though you spent hours tapping away on the keyboard of your laptop. All he knew was that he was in love and the one who irrevocably stole his heart was you. 

You can’t really remember when the first time you came to the coffee shop was. It all happened in a blur of rainy days and the countless nights you spent awake studying for your finals and soon, you couldn’t imagine not stopping by and visiting what was now your favorite place to spend your free time. 

It was a little shop, located in a corner that not many people knew about. Mostly, those who came wanted to keep the shop a secret, it was a sort of escape from the real world for those who visited. Anyone who stumbled upon the coffee shop inevitably fell in love with not only the coffee and the pastries, but also the owners: a married couple that had been together for over 20 years and were still as in love as they were when they first got together. 

You always came to the shop to get coffee before going off to school and you would visit whenever you had free time, always wanting to be on top of your assignments. Anyone who saw you knew that you were more interested in getting your daily dose of coffee and focusing on your education than anything else, that’s why no one ever bothered you. 

Although, you would still occasionally get a few numbers here and there, no one ever stuck out to you and their offers always ended up in the trash can. You didn’t want to waste your time on a relationship that would only end up going downhill when they realized you would never have enough time for them. 

That is, until he came. 

It was a pretty windy day and you settled into your usual seat next to the door despite the cold breeze that would hit you every time the door opened. Unsurprisingly, the cold weather brought in more customers and the door opened every few minutes, the sound of soft chatter filling the coffee shop. 

By the sixth time the door opened yet another shiver wracked your body and you had had enough. You were began packing up your things to leave. It seemed as though this was going to be one of your worst days of the year. It was bad enough that your hair refused to listen to you and you had to resort to tying it into a ponytail in hopes of masking the huge knot that had accumulated overnight. You also forgot your umbrella since you woke up late and had to rush out of the house. Even though there was only a light drizzle, your clothes were still soaked and the constant wind coming your way wasn’t helping. 

You hoped your usual cup of coffee would help but at this point you were too uncomfortable to enjoy it and it didn’t seem as though your mood would lift anytime soon. 

The door opened for the seventh time, the jingle of the bell alerting everyone of a new customer walking through the door. You scowled, your frozen fingers gripping your assignment as you struggled to shove them into your bag. 

You heard a laugh and you froze. Your gaze flickered in the direction where it came from and your eyes widened. 

Grey hair, hazel eyes, flushed cheeks, and a mole under his eye.

Beautiful.

His soft voice could be heard talking to his other companions: a tall, blond with glasses, a short, orange-haired boy, a scowling boy who’s eyes reminded you of blueberries, and a freckled boy who was laughing at something the blond had said. 

You moved your gaze away, not knowing that his eyes were now on you. A part of you regretted having packed up your belongings but now it was too late to sit back down and you had no other choice but to leave, taking small sips of your last bit of coffee and bidding the owners of the shop good-bye. 

It would be another week before you saw him again, and time seemed to hiccup once more. You wondered why you were so captivated by him and you found your attention lingering on his voice and the soft smiles that accompanied his small conversations he had with his friends. 

As the weeks flew by, you began learning more about him through the loud chatter of his companions. He played volleyball. He was a third-year at Karasuno. And his name was Sugawara.

But there were also things you noticed about him that no one had to tell you like the little furrow in his brows when he concentrated or how he always seemed to forget that the coffee was hot, burning himself every time he took his first sip. In between sips of your coffee, your gaze always wound up on him, but you never expected that his eyes would lock on yours and he would send a smile your way. 

A blush painted your cheeks and he would sigh, a chuckle slipping past his lips as his friends teased him, not missing the way he would stare at you while you worked. But surprisingly, you never heard them, even though they were quite loud. 

The wordless glances and small smiles exchanged for quite a while but the distance between the two of you never seemed to shorten. And you never bothered making a move, not quite ready for rejection and still apprehensive about starting a relationship with all the other priorities you had on your plate. 

Yet, a small part of you hoped for more. 

It wasn’t until one rainy day that your relationship finally seemed to shift. You were unlucky enough to have forgotten to check the forecast and didn’t realize it was supposed to rain until it was too late. 

You gazed out at the rain pattering against the window. The steady thrum was soothing but it only reminded you of how you would have to walk home and risk getting sick. You had finished your coffee a while ago and now you were only waiting for the rain to ease before leaving. 

The coffee shop had mostly cleared out because of how late it was and there were only a few others lingering but the one person you noticed was him.

Sugawara. 

These days, you saw him coming with his friends less and less and nowadays he would spend his time at the coffee shop like you, alone and on his laptop, typing away at one of his many assignments. You noticed that on the days that he came, he always stayed late. Never once had you seen him leave before you but you didn’t pay the fact much attention, assuming that he had a lot of homework to catch up on. 

You zipped up your jacket, waving good-bye to the owners and you felt the words clinging to your lips as you stared in his direction but you decided against it. You had never talked to him before so it would be strange to start now. 

A sigh escaped your lips instead as you pushed open the doors, shivering at how cold it was outside. You reached out a hand to catch the rain, feeling the droplets slide past your fingertips. 

You rocked back and forth on your heels, standing on the steps of the shop, unsure of what you were waiting for but when the bells on the door rang from behind you, you were glad you had stayed. 

Sugawara stood in front of you, a smile on his lips and a scarf wrapped around his neck. 

“Hey, y/n, right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Are you heading home, too? It’s getting kind of late.”

“Yeah,” he said, before bringing his hands out from behind his back and shoving an umbrella in your direction, his cheeks flushing. “I was waiting for you to go home, actually. I noticed you didn’t have an umbrella and I didn’t want you to get caught in the rain.”

You reached out to grab the black umbrella from him, his hands brushing against yours. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, watching as he beamed, the wind lightly brushing through his gray locks. 

“It’s no problem,” he glanced down at his watch, his eyes widening once he saw the time, “Wow, it is pretty late. I should get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You didn’t usually go to the coffee shop on Sunday’s because you always tried to finish your work the day before. It was sort of your routine and it was one you liked to stick to but the thought of seeing him again tilted your world on its axis and for once it seemed like changing your routine wasn’t that bad of an idea. 

After all, it wasn’t everyday that you would get to talk to the boy you admired so much. “Yeah, tomorrow sounds great.”

You waved at him and watched as he ran home, using his bag to shield himself from the rain. Your fingers tightened around the handle of the umbrella, warmth spreading across your cheeks as you made a mental note to return it to him.

i think I’m in love.

[preciouspeterbparker]

the warmest bed i’ve ever known

finally got this bitch finished! 

based on “tis the damn season” by taylor swift. i was also listening to the phoebe bridgers cover of “christmas song”, “last christmas” cover by pale waves (recorded @ spotify), and “home alone, too” by the staves 

also this is only my 2nd time writing starker so lmk what you think plz?

happy holidays! - bloo

word count: 6.07k. this was intended to basically be a porny blurb...instead there’s so much fucking plot it’s probably overwhelming and minimal porn. i’m sorry

warnings: angst, depression & anxiety, drug use (that good kush ft some hotboxing & shotgunning), smut, character death (not tony or peter), tony’s kind of country lmao. despite all the aforementioned things, there is in fact a happy ending! 

summary: peter makes the trip back home for christmas and once again finds himself caught up in deep brown eyes and a charming smile. tis the damn season. 

Peter had forgotten how cold New York winters were. He’d grown used to the year-long warmth of Los Angeles. He supposed the cold was appropriate- it was as if the weather was in cahoots with the solid, frigid thing that was sitting in the pit of his stomach. The last time he’d spent Christmas in Aurora, the last time he’d seen him… Tony.

Just thinking the other man’s name made Peter flex his hands anxiously as he slid out of the driver’s seat of his black Mercedes AMG GT into the amber glow of the streetlight, gently shutting the door closed behind him, still in the overly cautious period of owning the new car. He wondered what Tony would think of it. Last time Peter had come home, he was still driving May’s old Subaru. It’d been almost 2 years to the day, now, which felt like both a century and no time at all. He wished it wasn’t so hard. He wished they hadn’t been caught in this song & dance for so long. It seemed like no matter how good Peter’s intentions, it always came down to one thing: he was so damn scared. He always ran away, no matter how badly he wanted to stay. 

Scuffing a boot through the slush in the street, the brunette straightened his shoulders and made his way toward the brick building, a quick smile quirking half his mouth up as he read the neon red sign above the closed garage door. Stark’s. Memories came flooding back, the countless nights he spent cooped up in the little shop during high school, sketching elaborate ensembles and daydreaming about having his very first collection while surrounded by the smell of motor oil and the sounds of tinkering. The bell above the door jingled merrily as Peter stepped through and wiped his feet on the mat. The pleasant sound of Frank Sinatra crooning the words of “The Christmas Waltz” met his ears. Another small smile flitted over Peter’s face. That was something that tended to happen when he was around Tony. 

“Just a second,” came the slightly muffled voice, a little strained. The man in question was bent over, headfirst in the engine of his old 1979 Chevy C10, the one he’d gotten senior year of highschool. The collar of a heather grey henley peeked out from under a deep red and green plaid flannel stretched over his shoulders as he leaned a little further under the hood, using a wrench to tighten what looked to be a lugnut to Peter from his spot by the door, too nervous to go further inside. 

“I can wait,” Peter replied softly, trying not to stare at Tony’s jean-clad ass and anxious of the older boy man’s reaction. (It looked like Tony had done a lot of growing up over the past two years, no longer the boy he remembered. Peter supposed the same could be said about himself in a way, though he wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse.)

And apparently he was right to be cautious.

Tony promptly smacked his head on the underside of the hood as he jerked upright at the sound of Peter’s voice. “Fuck.”  Moving more carefully, Tony stood upright and turned around, his dark eyes wide. “Peter,” he said, visibly and audibly surprised. To be honest, it hurt Peter a little bit, how surprised he sounded. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Did they not do this nearly every year over the past seven? Had- Oh god, had something changed? Fuck, did Tony finally get tired of-  Had he found-

Peter resolutely cut that train of thought off before he could panic. “Hi, Tony.” He swallowed drily, making eye contact for a moment, before casting his eyes away only for them to make their way back to the open face in front of him. “Think you have time for a quick bite to eat?” He slipped his left hand into the pocket of the new, warm wool coat he bought expressly for this trip. “It’s almost dinner time. And I have a treat,” he intoned, tapping his right pointer and middle fingers against his lips.

Tony beamed and immediately reached for a shop rag to wipe his hands, the black grease and oil smearing on the probably-used-to-be-white-at-some-point fabric. One of those hands came up to scratch at his facial hair, a new addition that made something simmer deep in Peter’s gut. The older man's brown eyes twinkled as he paused to glance at Peter. “You had me at ‘hi, Tony.’” He then proceeded to move about the shop, swiping his phone from atop a chest of metal drawers, Sinatra’s voice coming to an abrupt stop. He pulled on his old lined jean jacket (the one Peter was constantly mending in high school; now it just had small tears in some places, and what appeared to be Tony’s d-i-y patchwork in others). The sign on the front door was flipped to ‘closed’ and Tony pulled a keyring from his belt loop, locking it and flicking off the lights. The streetlights outside the building and the colorful holiday lights strung along the edge of the roof provided just enough light for them to be able to clearly see each other, the sun having set early, around four o’clock. Peter had forgotten about that as well. 

He moved to grab his car keys from a pocket but Tony spoke up, patting the dark green paint of his truck’s hood and walking over to the garage door. His hand hovered over the button that would open it. “Actually, I just finished giving Delilah a tuneup, mind if we take ‘er for a spin?” 

“Sure,” Peter agreed without hesitation, still feeling relieved (and grateful) that his invitation was accepted. 

Tony pushed his palm against the button and paused to do a double-take after the metal door lifted completely. His eyebrows rose at the sight of Peter’s car parked in the small lot beside the shop. “Damn, L.A.. Not worried about your fancy new car?” His tone was slightly teasing, but there was a bit of shock mixed with something else as well, and it caused Peter to go hot, feeling insecure. (What if Tony didn’t like who Peter was, now? Peter didn’t exactly like who he was now.) Tony must’ve noticed his discomfort, because he cracked a grin and bumped his shoulder against Peter’s as he made his way to the driver’s side, yanking the door open. “C’mon, Parker, ‘m just fuckin’ with you. Hop in - how’da some burgers from Delmar’s an’ a trip out to the field sound?” 

***

They grabbed food from the hole-in-the-wall diner down the road (the one where sixteen year-old Peter burned the shit out of his hand on his first day and promptly quit) and once they were bundled back in the truck with their burgers, fries and one banana milkshake (“yeah, but these are your favorite,” Tony had said in response to Peter’s exclamation that it was too cold out), Tony drove them out to the field behind the old high school. He parked the car under the lamppost, leaving it running in order to keep the heat on. His thick mechanic’s fingers began to fiddle with the temperature controls. Nat King Cole was playing quietly on the radio. 

Peter shifted the paper bag of food in his lap, searching for words but not knowing what to say, and plucked the joint and lighter from his coat. The paper-covered filter found its way between his lips and he inhaled softly as he lit the tip. Satisfied with the light, he french inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. The first hit was always the best. Peter loved the way he could feel it all the way in his bones. He didn’t know how to describe it other than deep. When he opened them, he made eye contact with Tony in the dim light, and immediately cut his gaze away as he felt the heat rush to his face. He could feel when Tony looked away a moment later.

The lull continued and Peter gingerly held the joint between his fingertips as he exhaled, hand outstretched.  

Worn fingers plucked it away, and Peter’s eyes were immediately drawn to the slightly chapped lips that wrapped themselves around the filter. “You stayin’ at um, at May's...old place?” Tony faltered as he inhaled, as if he wasn't sure what the most sensitive way to talk about it was. 

“Yeah," Peter said softly as he looked down at his lap. Spending his first night in the house alone last night had made him feel the loneliest he'd ever been in his life, and that was saying something because he’d been feeling pretty miserable lately. Peter saw May everywhere he looked, waiting to hear her call for him to come taste some new-fangled recipe from the kitchen, or to please, for the hundredth time, rinse the dishes before he put them in the sink. He missed her more than he thought possible, her death earth-shattering after having already lost Ben when he was 17, back when this mess all started. When he left for the first time. When he started running away. “It’s- It’s weird but I’m...adjusting. It’s honestly not that different to when she was alive, though. Y’know- recently.” He cut himself off, not sure if he wanted Tony to know the full reality of his existence, now. 

Because it was true. It killed Peter to admit it, but his relationship with Aunt May started going downhill around the time of Ben’s death, too. By the time she had her heart attack a little more than two years ago, he hadn’t seen her in over a year, or talked to her in nearly as long. It was the biggest regret of his life, pushing May away; the second was the way he essentially did the same thing to Tony, however drawn-out it had been. 

Peter reached out for the joint and his fingers brushed against Tony’s, sending a jolt up his spine. “How,” Peter started, swallowing as he twiddled the lighter between his fingers not holding the joint. “How’ve you been, Tony?” He was scared to ask what he really wanted to know. Have you finally had enough? Did you stop waiting on me? Am I too late? To distract himself a bit, he cracked the window so he could ash the joint before taking another drag. 

"Same ol’, same ol’,” came Tony’s reply, his voice weary. “I mean, you already know this, but nothin’ really changes here." The quiet way he said it was slightly self-deprecating and the younger man hated it, hated that he had something to do with it. (Peter remembered the way he spat the words at Tony in the wee hours of the morning oh so long ago. "I've gotta get out of this fucking town- I can’t stay here, Tony! You might be okay dying here, a nobody with nothing, but I'm not!")

That’s why I had to leave, he thought, chest tightening. I was trapped in this town. It was never you, Tony. You were perfect. You’re perfect. 

"..Yeah," is what came out instead. Peter took another hit before he handed the joint back to Tony and began rifling through the grease-splotched bag, passing the older man his burger before unwrapping his own. He took the top bun off in order to lay down a handful of fries from the bag, smooshing the top back on afterwards. A moan left Peter’s mouth at the first bite, and he heard a chuckle bubble up from Tony’s chest. (He would never admit it, especially not to anyone back in L.A., anyone who didn’t know him before, but this was his favorite meal in the world.)

“Funny that you still do that. So, um,” Tony began again, stuffing a few fries in his mouth and chewing as he spoke out the side of his mouth. “I saw your new collection. It looked nice.” He licked a bit of salt off his thumb. 

Peter’s ears burned as he swallowed his bite and raised an eyebrow at the man across from him. “You pay attention to fashion, now?” He fought off a smile at the thought of Tony delicately flipping through the pages of a high-fashion magazine. 

“Not like- I’ve tried to keep up with your work,” Tony mumbled, swallowing, his own face taking on a bit of a rosy-hue. “Like to know what you're up to all the way out there.” The joint touched his lips for a few seconds before it made its way back to Peter’s fingers. “I do know how Google works.” 

Peter shivered as he felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach at the salt grains that touched his tongue when he took his next pull. “Tastes like salt,” he breathed on the exhale, locking eyes with Tony through the smoke that had accumulated in the car. 

Something flashed in the older man’s eyes as he stole the weed back and took a large hit, crooking his salt-sprinkled fingers to beckon Peter closer. 

Peter’s own reddened eyes widened when he caught on to what Tony wanted, his heart picking up speed. They hadn’t done that in years. Still clutching his burger in his left hand, he used the right to support himself as he leaned over the console to press his mouth against Tony’s. He closed his eyes as he inhaled, fighting the urge to slip his tongue somewhere it didn’t belong. One of Tony’s hands came up to pull his head closer for a moment, his tongue having the same idea as Peter’s, causing him to whine into Tony’s mouth. His pants were getting tight as he licked right back in response, feeling a slight burn from exhaling through his nose. He missed this. Nobody kissed him like Tony did-

“Shit!” Tony pulled away sharply, and Peter’s heart stopped for a second. But when he realized what was happening, he couldn’t contain the surprised cackle that erupted as he saw the joint land in the other man’s lap. “Quit it,” was Tony’s reply, though he was grinning as he said it. He grabbed what was left of the joint off his jeans and stubbed it out the rest of the way on the dashboard. “It burned my fuckin’ finger.”

“Oh poor baby,” Peter shot back, shifting in his seat and taking another bite of his burger. He willed the slight chub to go away, but knew it was a lost cause. He pretty much signed up for it; he was always turned on when he was high around Tony (and most of the time when he was sober, too). Some kind of conditioning or something, he thought deliriously. 

“Ya better hush up, Parker,” Tony snarked and dipped some fries into Peter’s banana shake. He rolled his neck a bit, reaching for his burger. “So, kid. Tell me ‘bout L.A..”

***

Peter was basking peacefully in his high, humming along to whatever was playing through the speakers. He and Tony had both finished their food, chatting about this and that, but nothing of real substance, their earlier stilted conversation far from their minds. Shooting the shit, as Tony called it, over some weed and a meal was their normal routine when they were younger, and it came as naturally as breathing. Peter had never met anyone else he could simply coexist with on this level, simply enjoying the other’s presence for what it was. I love you, he thought as he looked at Tony, who was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed and nodding his head along with the beat. I’m so in love with you and it scares the shit out of me. 

The younger man’s eyes roved over Tony’s face as his mind raced. What was he doing? Would something be different this time? He wasn’t that angry seventeen year old anymore- now he was twenty-four, clinically depressed, and living someone else’s life. Would it be so bad to finally leave that all behind, to finally let himself have what he’s denied himself for so long? Didn’t he deserve to be happy, after all this pain? And even if it wasn’t in the cards for them, if Peter was destined to be alone, wouldn’t even the most miniscule amount of time with Tony be worth it? 

Tony’s gravelly voice startled him back to the present. “I should probably be gettin’ you home, huh, Peter?” The bearded man opened his eyes and began sitting up, turning to look at him. The expression on his face was unreadable, and Peter didn’t know if he should agree or protest, so he merely lifted a shoulder in faux indifference, shooting Tony a half-smile.

Please, call me Pete… Just Pete, Peter begged in his head. Tony calling him by his full name made the ugly thing in his chest wriggle uncomfortably. Last time he was home, before he said those awful things, Tony hadn’t called him Peter in years. Yet another beautiful thing that he’d taken for granted and ruined for himself. 

“Could also drive around for a bit if you wanted, see some lights.” Damn Tony and his ability to read Peter so well. The suggestion was soft, and he looked down as he said it, almost as if he was feeling shy. 

Peter shook his head minutely and shifted a little in his seat, gently biting his lip. “I’m getting a little tired, haven’t smoked in a while,” he lied through his teeth, but the smile on his face was real this time. 

Tony grinned right back at him.

(“What would we even do on a date? There’s nothing to do here, Tony,” Peter said with a laugh. “I dunno,” Tony replied, snuggling the lighter-haired teenager closer into his chest as they snuggled on the couch. “We could go look at the Christmas lights, get some hot chocolate… I could tie some mistletoe to the mirror in the truck. There’d be sum kissin’ involved….” He trailed off as Peter’s lips found his own. “Or we could do the kissin’ right here,” he murmured, sinking into the kiss.)

***

The drive back to May’s house was spent with Tony catching Peter up on everyone in town as they passed various houses. (“Remember Happy Hogan, the butcher?? Him an’ that pretty florist, Ms. Potts, got married last year. Think they’re havin’ a baby,last I heard.” “Rhodey’s mama died this spring, she got cancer, but he an’ Mr. Rhodes still live out here now that Rhodey’s moved home. Honorable discharge last fall. Done got himself a new girlfriend now too, Carol; he met ‘er in the Air Force.  She’s a sweet one, I think you’d like ‘er.”) 

When they pulled into the driveway, Tony cut the engine and hopped out. Peter did the same, grabbing the bag with their trash and patting his pocket, double-checking for his keys and lighter. He stepped around Tony, who had stopped at the bottom of the front steps, and walked up to the door, fumbling for a minute with his keys under the porch light to find the right one (it had robin’s egg blue polka-dots of May’s favorite nail polish). Tony’s footsteps followed him up the stairs. 

Peter stuck the key in the lock and opened the door a crack before turning to face the taller man. “So.”

Tony’s eyes searched his own as they gazed at one another. “So,” he parroted back. His index finger went up to rub at his nose as he took a hard sniff in. There was a beat of silence. “Thanks for the joint, and uh, the company. It was good seein’ you,” he said at last, a hint of his signature lopsided grin curving his lips. 

Peter felt the goodbye that was coming before it even left Tony’s mouth, and something in him broke. “Don’t leave me here alone.” The words came out of Peter’s mouth in a mumble, and suddenly he couldn’t make eye contact with Tony, losing focus and staring at his own feet instead. He felt the harsh burning of tears as it hit him again just how alone he was about to be when he walked inside, how alone he already was. He was always so fucking alone. 

Even in L.A., so much bigger than fucking Aurora, New York, surrounded by thousands of people, Peter still felt invisible, insignificant. He had no friends. Sure, he had a publicist, and connections, and celebrity acquaintances & clientele. But without his money and his clothes, what would he have? What did he have when he was just Peter Parker, rather than Peter Benjamin, semi-famous designer? Nothing. (When he got the call about May, and he’d broken down in the bathroom during a business meeting with representatives for Tom Ford, he realized he had no one to call. No one to comfort him or tell him it would be okay. He’d sobbed into his pillow that night, screaming his throat raw with Tony’s number punched into his phone, ready to be dialed. He never called.) He had nothing and no one, and it was all his fault because he was so stupid, and maybe this is just what he deserved. If he hadn’t pushed everyone-

“Hey- Hey, Peter, no. Never,” Tony was saying gently, cautiously pulling Peter into his strong arms and out of his anxiety attack. “‘m not goin’ anywhere if y’don’t want me to, baby.” He tucked Peter’s head under his chin, a chill running down his spine due to the chilly evening air. “S’okay, everythin’s okay.” 

Peter sucked in a deep breath through his mouth, trying to calm himself. His forehead dug into Tony’s shoulder painfully but it helped to ground him. The soothing sensation of Tony’s fingers tracing circles on his back helped, too. Peter’s breath was still hitching every so often, so he shut his eyes and tried to synch his breathing with Tony’s. It felt so nice to just be this close to someone- Peter couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held. Tony had probably been the last one to do it, though. (He’d had sex in L.A. of course, but it was all superficial. Nothing real. Nothing like what he had with Tony- not even close.) Shifting slightly, he buried his nose in the crook of Tony’s neck, searching unconsciously for the smell he loved so much; a mix of gasoline, teakwood, and something smoky. The scent sent a shiver down Peter’s spine, and that hot feeling simmered in his stomach again. He’d always joked that he would bottle Tony’s smell if he could. Tony would just laugh and jokingly tease Peter for always having his nose in his neck or armpit.

Now Tony just hummed lightly in response, tightening his hold for a moment before relaxing. “‘Yer’okay,” he whispered, once he could feel that Peter’s breathing had evened out for the most part. 

Peter pulled back a bit and stared at a spot in the middle of Tony’s chest, thinking. He decided to go for it. Worst that could happen was Tony saying no, and leaving Peter here alone, but he knew he’d end up alone eventually. But he’d delay the inevitable as long as he could.  “Kiss me, T,” he said quietly, leaning in before he could change his mind. His lips brushed Tony’s and he pulled back, trying not to go cross eyed looking into the other’s eyes. “I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

Tony stared at him for a moment before their mouths met again, and Peter nipped gently at his lip before clumsily walking backwards through the cracked front door, pulling Tony with him with their mouths still connected. Tony’s foot kicked it closed behind them, bathing them in darkness, and he tripped a bit when Peter clutched at the lapels of his jacket a little too hard. Cursing under his breath, he leaned back against the door and tugged Peter along, using the support behind him to balance as he toed his boots off. They disconnected momentarily as the shorter man did the same, hands still gripping the denim. 

Peter licked his lip as they stood in the dark entryway. Looking up at Tony, he shrugged his coat off, letting it fall to the hardwood floor beneath them. He reached out and gently pushed the denim jacket off the taller man’s shoulders too before leaning in, stopping just before their lips made contact. “Come upstairs with me,” he whispered. 

Tony’s mocha eyes flitted around for a minute, searching his face for something. Peter couldn’t tell if he liked what he saw, but Tony kissed him again before taking his hand. “Your room,” he questioned, taking hold of the banister and leading Peter up the stairs. 

***

“Fuck, Tony. Right there, right there, ohhhhh.” Peter was on his back with one leg thrown over Tony’s shoulder and the other bent off to the side, the ball of his foot pushing into the mattress. The mechanic’s uncut cock was stretching his lubed hole. Tony was leaning over him and one of his hands was clutching at Peter’s hip, the other at the leg up by his face. His facial hair scratched deliciously against the pale skin on the inside of Peter’s knee as he pressed a kiss there. 

(Tony had kissed and licked and sucked praises into the skin of his neck, chest, stomach and thighs as he’d fingered him open at a torturously slow pace. “So good fer me, Pete. Look at you. You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Peter had whimpered and whined the whole time as he tried to fuck himself on the thick digits whose pads were caressing his prostate.) 

A moan left the older man’s lips as he looked into Peter’s eyes. “You feel so good, baby. Always feel so- fuckin’- good,” he grunted, thrusting further in the tight, wet heat. “Love fuckin’ your ass.”  He dug his fingers tighter into Peter’s skin, sure to leave bruises. 

Gasping, Peter arched his hips up, toes curling, cock bobbing against his stomach with every thrust. He could feel Tony deep inside him, in that place that only he had ever been able to reach. Fuck, why had he ever let this go? Never letting you go again, Tony. You can’t leave me alone. I need you. I love you. He whined, baring his neck in a silent plea and bringing his leg down so that both were wrapped around the man’s thick waist. Tony reacted accordingly; his hands moved up to clutch at Peter’s near the headboard and his mouth latched onto the column of Peter’s neck, sucking. A wounded noise escaped Peter, his hole clenching, and Tony bit down harshly at the sensation. Peter keened again, going limp on the mattress as his legs fell open to the side. “Shit, Tony, god!” 

Hot, wet breath tickled Peter’s neck with every ragged exhale that left Tony’s mouth, causing the smaller to whine lewdly, squirming. “Yeah? Are you- mine? Y’gon be mine- huh, Pete?” Peter heard the unspoken question, the twinge of desperation in Tony’s voice. Will you finally be mine? He sounded tired, that deep-in-your-bones type weariness, Peter noticed as he felt his own chest start to get tight. He’d really done a number on the person who deserved it the least. And for what? To come crawling back years later, expecting to be forgiven? 

Yes, he thought in response to Tony’s question, hating himself for it. One of his hands tangled itself in the crown of Tony’s head, fingers pulling the strands at the root possessively as teeth sunk into his neck again. Yours. Always yours. He let out another moan, rolling his hips in an attempt to get some friction on his neglected cock that was weeping precum as Tony continued to thrust in and out of him. “Please, please- Tony, please.” If Peter had any shame left, he’d probably be blushing at how needy and wrecked he sounded. Instead it just turned him on, knowing just how gone he was for the other man. 

With a grunt, Tony redistributed his weight and brought two fingers to Peter’s lips. “Open up fer a minute, baby,” he requested softly, slipping the digits inside. Peter laved them with his tongue, coating them with thick saliva and Tony groaned at the feeling, dick twitching in Peter’s ass. Once they were sufficiently wet, he pulled his fingers away, a thin string of drool stretching to connect them to Peter’s slick lips. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, Pete, Christ.” His calloused hand wrapped loosely around the hot, rosy cock between them. “Fuck my hand, baby.” 

Peter complied without hesitation, rocking his hips and pressing his shaft in and out of the slick tunnel that was Tony’s hand. He cried out when Tony’s thumb caressed the underside of the head as the cock inside of him nailed directly into his prostate. The pressure had already been a lot, but the pleasure was suddenly overwhelming in a new way. He was so close and Tony hadn’t even been touching him for thirty seconds. “F-fuck, Tony, I’m gonna- Ahhhhh-”  

“Yeah, cum for me, Pete,” Tony’s warm breath heaved into his ear, tongue sneaking out to lick the outer shell and dip inside briefly at the same time he tightened his grip on Peter’s sensitive member.  “Fuck, cum for me, baby, cum on my- Cum on my cock- God-.” 

And with a cry, Peter did just that, biting into Tony’s shoulder as the tension in his gut snapped, hole twitch relentlessly around the hard cock inside him as his own shot spurt after spurt of hot cum on his chest; some reached the hollow of his throat and his chin. “God, Tony, shit, shit, shit.” 

“Yesssss, Pete, holy fuck.” Tony buried himself inside one last time, his mouth latching onto the column of Peter’s neck as he reached his orgasm, shoving himself inside as deep as possible. His dick twitched, painting Peter’s insides with his spend and making him groan. 

They stayed that way for a moment before Tony pulled back to look into Peter’s eyes. “Lemme clean’ya up,” he offered gently as he carefully pulled his softening cock out of the heat of the younger man’s ass. There was a slight burbling sound, and he brushed his lips against Peter’s when he saw the embarrassment flash across his face. “Hol’ on.” Climbing out of the bed, he made his way to the bathroom that was adjoined to Peter’s room.

Peter’s heart was beating uncomfortably in his chest as he lay among the sheets, bringing his hands up to his chest to fiddle with each other anxiously. It couldn’t be over. He wasn’t ready for it to be over. He wasn’t ready to be alone again. 

When Tony walked back in, he got back on the bed, gently wiping the cum off Peter’s chest with a warm rag, smirking at the full-body shivers that ran through the young man in response to the cloth being swiped lightly over his nipples. Once his chest was clean, Tony moved down to run the fabric between Peter’s ass cheeks, collecting the milky-white substance that was leaking out of the hole. 

“Stay,” Peter whispered, once Tony had thrown the washcloth in the hamper and climbed back into bed at Peter’s invitation of patting the spot beside himself in bed. He wiggled so that his back was pressed up against Tony’s front. His fingers tangled themselves with those on a slightly larger hand and as he let his eyes slip shut, he felt Tony’s lips press a kiss into the sweaty curls at the back of his head. 

*** 

When Peter woke up, it was well past noon. The bed was so warm that the heat from his and Tony’s bodies trapped up under the fluffy comforter would be sweltering if he didn’t crave it so much. 

Peter swallowed drily as he looked at Tony’s face in the afternoon light, peaceful in sleep. At some point during their sleep, they had shifted to where they were facing each other. He wanted to trace his fingers along the strong facial features in front of him, but he refrained, not wanting to wake the older man. He knew he needed to talk to Tony. He knew that Tony deserved better. But maybe Peter could be selfish just this once... It was Christmas after all. Tis the damn season and all that. 

Leaning forward, with a hand pressed gently against Tony’s chest, Peter pecked his lips against the sleeping man’s in a kiss. He got no response, so he did it again, adding a little more pressure. Tony began to stir; his arm wrapped lazily around Peter’s naked waist, pulling their bottom halves together. 

“G’mornin’,” Tony mumbled sleepily as he blinked a few times before his gaze focused on Peter. His voice was scratchy and rough, and Peter’s hips jerked slightly in response as he whispered back his own greeting, partially because Tony had begun to get hard. The mechanic brought up a hand and took hold of Peter’s chin, pulling their mouths together as he ground their burgeoning erections together. 

Peter wrapped a leg around Tony’s waist as they lay there on their sides and began to gently rock his hips. “Tony,” he mewled, eyes screwed shut. The words were bubbling up inside him, just like the arousal was blooming in his gut. One of his arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, pulling their bodies together as close as they could get. 

“Yeah,” came Tony’s breathy reply. His eyes were roving over Peter’s flushed face as he undulated his own hips, thumb coming up to press against the younger’s spit-slick bottom lip. “Whadisit?”

Peter took the digit into his mouth for a moment and they made eye contact as he swirled his tongue around the tip, fellating it. He released it from his mouth with a pop, biting his own lip. “Am I too late,” he asked quietly, burying his face in the muscled chest before him, pecking tender kisses on the heated flesh. “Do you still love me?” His voice shook as he continued, breath faltering as well as the sensations built up. He squeezed his eyes shut even though Tony couldn’t see the tears building in his eyes as he chased his pleasure, preparing for the inevitable pain that was sure to follow. 

“Pete.” The way Tony said his name was reverent, like he didn’t see Peter for the walking mistake that he was. He was breathing heavier now, too, with the exertion of frotting their hard cocks together. “How could I ever stop, baby?” He craned his neck in order to meet Peter’s eyes. “Was just waitin’ on ya t’come home.” He pressed their lips together as Peter’s leg tightened around his waist. “Was always just waitin’ on ya t’come home,” he repeated. A particularly hard thrust had them both groaning, clutching desperately at each other as they chased that euphoric feeling. “’Course I love you, Peter. Now cum for me.”

Peter couldn’t help but obey as a sob burst from his lips, Tony following him over the edge. “I love you,” he cried, as their bodies shook together. “I’m s-sorry Tony, I love you- Don’t go, don’t ever leave me. I won’t- I promise I won’t go again. I can’t go again, I can’t leave you again. I won’t.” Tony’s thumbs came up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, and a kiss was pressed to his temple as he felt himself be pulled into those strong arms. 

“I’d never leave you, Pete.”

***

The bed was cold when Peter woke again. He lay there, watching the sunset through his bedroom window. Gentle creaks could be heard as the house groaned under pressure from the falling snow. He rolled over, grimacing at the pain in his lower half and pulling a pillow to his chest. It still smelled of teakwood, smoke, and gasoline. He smiled, burying his face further into the intoxicating scent. “I love you,” he whispered to the empty house, feeling lighter than he had in years. 

(Yes, the bed was cold, now. But Tony would be back to warm it up. And he’d have burgers, fries, and a banana milkshake when he returned. Maybe even a joint. Peter was glad he didn’t have to wait long. They’d had just about enough of that over the past seven years.)

[mystoriesofthegalaxy]

Need You Now

(Peggysous Week 2021)

Day 4: song fics; @peggysousweek thanks for hosting!

Summary: Peggy and Daniel are thinking about and missing each other while being separated by many many miles. (Set between Season 1 and 2)

Song: Need You Now by Lady A (listen here, this is my favourite version of the song!)

A/N: This is the first time I am writing a Peggysous fic, which is why I am quite anxious about uploading this, but here it is. I ended up writing something with almost no plot and a lot of yearning oops.

Also, English is not my first language so I apologise for all the mistakes and the misuse of words!

You can read this here on Ao3 as well if you like :)

~*~

Picture perfect memories

Scattered all around the floor

Reaching for the phone cause

I can't fight it anymore.

With a sigh, Peggy ran her hand through her hair and shook her head. It could definitely not go on like this.

Ever since he had left New York, she was behaving so unlike herself that even she found it hard to believe.

And yet here she was, sitting alone in her room, next to the open window, looking outside into the dark street, the shining of the street lamps the only light on that cloudy Friday night.

Daniel Sousa was gone, that was a fact, and instead of feeling miserable she should be moving on and should go on with her life like every sensible human being would do. After all, she should be happy for him, shouldn't she?

It was a big opportunity for him, becoming the chief of the SSR West Coast bureau, and why not take the chance if there was nothing - or no one - holding him back?

She couldn't help but wonder, though, about what could have been, would he not have decided to take the position. Or if she hadn't wrecked it all.

For a second, she closed her eyes, reveling in their shared little memories. All the times Daniel had aped Jack whenever the latter was acting up again, making Peggy chuckle. All the times Daniel had brought her a cup of coffee whenever she had been delving into the huge amount of paperwork that had to be done, that lovely smile of his on his lips when he had placed the cup on her desk.

And then, a certain memory resurfaced, a wonderful memory that was very dear to her and back then had whirled up the feelings in her heart.

It had been the birthday of one of the SRR's agents, and after finishing time most of them had decided to celebrate at a bar. While practically all of the agents had been either playing cards half drunken or playing a drinking game fully drunken, Daniel and Peggy had been sipping their drinks together, sitting slightly away from the others.

The two of them had been talking a lot that evening, sitting close to each other and really getting to know the other. They had talked about their childhoods, he had told her about his three siblings, and she had told him everything she missed about England.

And it had been that evening that Peggy had realised that she may be feeling something more than just friendship for that man in front of her.

But of course she had ruined it all and everything had gone downhill. Why exactly, she couldn't quite tell. Perhaps it had been because of her fear of falling in love again, or because of her fear of losing someone dear to her again. Or perhaps it had been something else, she couldn't quite say.

Her gaze fell upon the phone that was standing on her desk, and for an instance she felt the urge to call him. To hear his voice, to have a conversation like the ones they used to have during their little breaks. 

But quickly, she scrapped the idea and put down the receiver she had involuntarily picked up. It was already after ten o'clock in Los Angeles, and he was probably already in bed. And besides, she had already called him once two weeks ago, and once last week, but he hadn't returned any of her calls. For Peggy, this was a clear signal: he had moved on.

She couldn't reproach him, though, that he had decided to move on. After all that had happened...or more precisely not happened. No, she really couldn't have expected him to stay. Daniel Sousa was gone, and she had to get over it.

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.

For me it happens all the time.

But despite her thoughts she couldn't help but wonder if after all, he still may be thinking about her once in a while. Because ever since the day she had come to know that he had accepted the offer, Daniel had never left her mind. Even though she had tried her best to distract herself.

It's a quarter after one.

I'm all alone and I need you now.

He had always taken care of her, and she had taken it for granted and had grown accustomed to it, not appreciating his efforts as she ought to have done. But now that he was gone, she realised how much he had grown on her, how much his absence actually hurt...and how much she actually needed him in her life.

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now.

~*~

Another shot of whiskey

Can't stop looking at the door.

Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before.

With a sigh, Daniel rose his glass to his mouth and took another sip. This wasn't exactly how he had imagined himself to be spending his first Friday evening off. But here he was, sitting on a bar stool at the counter, deep in thoughts.

The past few weeks had been very busy, moving to L.A. and taking a new position, a leading position, as chief of the new branch of the SSR, which was why he had barely had time to sit down and catch a breath.

But this had turned out to be a good thing after all, because otherwise he wouldn't have been able to bear the thoughts that he had been pushing aside into the deepest parts of his mind.

He had left New York with mixed feelings three weeks ago. He was excited for the new chapter of his life that was starting, and he was proud that he had been offered such an important position. But there were certain things that he was leaving behind that he really was going to miss. Or more precisely a certain person.

Daniel's gaze had wandered towards the door, watching the people who were occasionally coming in and out the bar. Suddenly, the door swung open and a brunette woman entered the room, walking hand in hand with a tall blonde man who was wearing a hat. As she turned over to her companion, Daniel could see that she was wearing red lipstick and that her nails were painted red as well. The way she was leaning against the counter, laughing while the man was talking, painfully reminded Daniel of that certain someone he had tried his best not to think of.

Oh, how much he wished that it was Peggy who had swept into the room that very moment.

No, he couldn't deny it that she was the one thing he was terribly missing since his move. If there had been a slight possibility, a tiny little chance, that she may be feeling that certain connection he thought he had felt between them, he may have thought twice before taking the job.

But apparently it had been all in his head, apparently he had been hoping for something that just wasn't there.

Maybe Krzeminski had been right after all. No girl was going to trade in a red, white and blue shield for an aluminium crutch, he was never going to be good enough for her. They may have worked good as a team, they may have even been friends, but that was it. Nothing more.

And even though being her friend wasn't bad, he had to admit that it wasn't enough for him. He couldn't just be around her and be her friend, it was impossible. The pain was to much, and he couldn't simply turn off his heart and stop feeling what he felt.

So the only thing left to do was to move on and to forget her. But this was so much easier said than done.

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.

For me it happens all the time.

Two weeks ago, though, she had called. When he had left New York, their demeanour towards each other had been very awkward and uptight, which is why he never would have expected to hear from her again.

And yet she had called the office, two times so far, wanting to speak to him. He had been on the way both of the times, which had spared him the pressure of actually having to pick up the receiver and talk to her.

He hadn't been able to bring himself to call her back yet. Yes, he missed her like crazy, even though he had always tried to disregard those feelings. But would talking to her really change anything? Change the way he felt? And what should he have said to her? Should he just have talked to her like nothing had happened? Like there wasn't a 2.500 mile distance between them?

No, he may be behaving like a coward by not getting in touch with her and not facing her, but it was the only possibility for him.

There was a little comfort for him, though, in knowing that since she had tried to call him, she must have not yet forgotten him completely.

It's a quarter after one.

I'm a little drunk and I need you now.

It was a terrible state he was in, torn between yearning for wanting Peggy in his life, his heart completely having fallen for her and at the same time knowing that if he didn't let go of her, he would be feeling miserable forever. And even though everything inside him was screaming no, he had to forget her and move on.

"Great job so far.", he murmured sarcastically and took the last sip of Whisky. Of course he had ordered the very thing Peggy would have chosen if they had been out together.

Feeling how the Whisky was showing its effect and was starting to addle his brain, he picked up his crutch and stood up. He had had enough for the night. With a last glance at the brunette and her companion, he straightened his shoulders and left the bar, disappearing into the dark.

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now.

[maryam0revna]

First Lines

I got tagged by @mego42 (bae)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Okay I do Not have 20 stories recent or good enough to pull from (but I'm like 5 chapters from a ((second)) finished manuscript SO it's fine) so let's delve into my shadowy back catalogue, shall we? Here's 12, roughly in order of most to least recent, starting with original fiction and ending in fanfic.

Original Fiction

1. "My gran always warned me that running my mouth about magic would get me into trouble."

-Hell or High Water

2. "It was the sharp jab to her ribs that sent an otherwise promising fight straight downhill."

-Flowers and Glass

3. "The silence was a long and damning one before the fair-haired young man finally spoke."

-Lady Lust

4. "'It was not that bad,' said Minerva Hardwicke, vaguely and around a mouthful of orange."

-Untitled Minerva Hardwicke expansion

5. "5 April, 1855

At the townhouse

Finally arrived in London today; cannot decide if it is hotter here or at home."

-Tactical Magic

6. "Living in a world where the supernatural is mostly regarded as nonexistent, there’s something pretty wild about seeing an actual vampire."

-Untitled Shitty Book Fan Saves The Day short

7. "Going into your senior year of college, one of the worst things that can happen to you is finding out that you somehow still need a Gen Ed credit to graduate."

-Another untitled Shitty Book Fan Saves The Day short

8. "Leaving Edinburgh had been, in hindsight, the single most important decision in Maura Kerr’s very long life."

-Mute

9. "A sharp rush of autumn air swept across a city of people who could not afford to sleep past six and found its way through a pair of yellow curtains."

-The Prodigal Salesman

Fanfic

10. "Aelin Galathynius was officially done being a pilot."

-Something I Can Believe

11. "In the end, she found him before he could find her."

-I've Been Living in the Red

12. "'You know,' Clarke mused, 'it’s ironic that you agreed to this with the stipulation that I wouldn’t have to participate if I didn’t want to-- which I appreciate, obviously-- and you’re the one that’s freaking out.'"

-The One, Epilogue

Things I Learned:

Naming fanfic for songs is low-hanging fruit and I will cram that fruit directly into my mouth.

Opening in media res is my shit, whether it's in the middle of a conversation or a fight.

I always try to open with something that sets the tone, either for my narrator's voice or the setting.

Historical is fun-- 6 of my 9 OF pieces are either HR, historical fic, or high fantasy with that historical vibe.

I think my favorite in terms of polish and style is The Prodigal Salesman, which I spit-shined to hell before submitting it to a contest 6 years ago*.

In terms of liking the whole opening, Flowers and Glass takes it. Writing it has been a slow plod, but it feels less in need of Massive Revision thanks to taking that extra time. Here is the opening paragraph, because I love it.

"It was the sharp jab to her ribs that sent an otherwise promising fight straight downhill. In Fiona's experience, a good duel was like an argument, where winning came by degrees. A single blow rarely determined the outcome of a fight, even when it was only to first blood, but there were always exceptions to the rule. She had made the mistake of getting close to Jo, to kick her leg out from under her, but her cousin had caught herself and bought time to stand by hammering a punch into Fiona's ribs. Jo's hard knuckles had slipped right between the front and back pieces of the cuir bouilli armor. Now, something in her side felt very wrong."

Action! Establishing a Dynamic! A broken rib! What more could you want?

*I did not place, but one of the judges reached out to say that I was a good writer and should keep submitting, which I appreciated. In hindsight, I think the piece goes a little too off the rails-- it's like "Murder Mysteries" by Neil Gaiman (which I was not yet skilled enough to pull off, and I still might not be!) but Southern and with a touch of Supernatural. Yike.

Tagging @ofsinnersandsaints because I KNOW you have 20 stories to pull from.

[shikyus]

Rewrite The Stars

Pairing: WooSan (Wooyoung x San)

Genre: angst, fluff, soulmate au

Word count: around 1250 i think??

This was inspired by the song Rewrite The Stars by James Arthur and Anne-Marie 

Enjoy~ ^-^

They say that soulmates are not something that can be changed, that you would undoubtedly fall for the person that the universe assigned you and live a long happy life together. And yet, why did San feel like everything was going completely wrong when, a few years ago, he had to watch his best friend get in a car and leave town with his so-called soulmate? He should’ve been happy for him, right? Should’ve congratulated him, right?

He heaved a deep sigh in the silence of the night, eyes landing on the old picture of him and his best friend, Wooyoung, that was barely visible on the moonlit desk, feeling that familiar ache in his heart and the sting in his eyes. He brought his knees up and placed his chin on them, letting the tears run freely down his soft cheeks as his mind drifted away to all the bittersweet memories.

Him and Wooyoung grew up together, went through everything together, discovered the world and unraveled its secrets together. He could still remember the day he turned 16, when Wooyoung gently kissed his cheek and told him they would be together forever, no matter what. He could also remember how he had foolishly trusted him, put his hopes in him, let him have all of his heart, only to have him leave a few years later. He could still feel the excruciating pain of that time when Wooyoung had come over, excitedly ranting about how he had finally found his soulmate, telling him all about how they had already been on a date and held hands and how everything had been perfect. From then on everything started going downhill. Wooyoung would be constantly talking about his soulmate, reassuring San that he would soon find his too, and San had to sit through it all, fake his smiles and be a good friend. After a while they started drifting apart, mostly because of Wooyoung spending more and more time with his beloved, while San cried himself to sleep almost every night, not being brave enough to confront his friend about the issues they were obviously facing. By the time Wooyoung decided to leave town with his soulmate, they were already acting like strangers and San thought it would be easy to forget him, but, oh, he was wrong.

There he was, 2 years later, still crying in the middle of the night, not able to let it go. He tried so hard to find somebody to replace him, to make him feel again, to make him happy again. He gave up quite fast, coming to the conclusion that he probably didn’t have a soulmate, or if he ever did have one, then they were obviously long gone.

He slowly wiped off the tears and put his earphones on, deciding that music would help him calm down and, eventually, fall asleep. After a few minutes of listening to old sappy love songs, he could already feel his eyelids getting heavier as his tired body finally relaxed, giving in to the sweet bliss of sleep.

The next morning he woke up with a major headache, took some pills for it and made a half assed attempt at cooking breakfast, deciding to give it up in the end and just go grab brunch at a place nearby. He put on some comfortable clothes, grabbed his keys and went out. He locked up and as soon as he turned around his eyes landed on a way too familiar car. It took him one too many seconds to figure it out, but as soon as he did he felt a multitude of feelings pass through him: shock, curiosity, disbelief, anger.

He looked to his left, only to find the owner of the car sitting  in his old swing. He blinked a few times as they made eye contact, still not being able to believe what he was seeing, taking a few cautious steps back as Wooyoung got up and started slowly approaching him.

“Hello, Sannie…”, he said with a pained smile on his face, when he got close enough to be heard. San’s heart was breaking into a million pieces again just at the sound of his pretty voice, as he was staring at him, frozen in his place, still trying to figure out what exactly was going on.  

“Woo… Wooyoung? Is this a dream? Is this some kind of sick joke?” San finally said through gritted teeth, still not knowing what to make of the situation.

Wooyoung seemed sad and resigned, but his eyes widened at San’s words as he quickly answered, voice slightly cracking in desperation.

“No, no, Sannie, I swear it’s not a joke or anything like that, I-… look, I know I have no right to be here and you have all the right to be confused, shocked, angry, you name it, but please, please hear me out. That’s all I ask of you Sannie, please hear me out.”

San took a moment to gather his thoughts and consider, as he looked at his best friend. He obviously looked more mature now, but San could still see the hopeful child that had once been there. He was so conflicted, as a big part of him told him to stay away, leave and never look back, but the other was whispering sweet words of better days and hope. He sighed as he rubbed his temples, already feeling the headache coming back. With one last look at his fidgeting friend he finally made up his mind.

“Okay, I’ll listen to what you have to say”, he said as he turned towards his door and unlocked it, opening it for Wooyoung, “but I really hope it’s worth it, Wooyoungie, I really do.”

He entered after him and made his way to the couch, sat down and motioned to his friend to do the same.

“You probably have a lot of questions right now, like why I am here, what happened to my… soulmate, and all that, so here we go…” Wooyoung said, voice wavering thinking back on it all. He told San everything about the sweet times and then about the bad ones, about the violence he went through and how hard it had been to finally let go, he told him all about it, both of them breaking down halfway through. They cried and they laughed, they shared beautiful memories of their sweet past, and painful ones form the few years they had been separated, and after an entire day of sharing stories and reconnecting, they found themselves hugging on the couch, finally finding their home again.

“Sannie?” Wooyoung asked, breaking the silence.

San hummed in acknowledgement, as he looked at his friend questioningly.

“Do you think we could grab some blankets and go stargazing on your roof?”

San smiled fondly. Wooyoung had always liked stargazing and it appears like that never changed.

“Yes, of course~” he said, grabbing his friend’s hand, as he got up and started heading upstairs.

That’s how a few minutes later they found themselves cuddling under the starry night, finally feeling at peace. And yet San’s mind was still full of questions and insecurities, thinking of how it all happened so fast. He decided on one more important question and turned to look at Wooyoung as he hesitantly whispered.

“Wooyoungie… So what now?”

That’s how he found said boy already staring at him, a fond look on his face as he answered simply.

“Now we make our own fate…

Now we rewrite the stars.”

[liugeaux]

Greatest Songs Ever - Part 11 (Self Actualization)

self-actualization [self-ak-choo-uh-luh-zey-shuh]

the achievement of one's full potential through creativity, independence, spontaneity, and a grasp of the real world.

It's been 3 years since I’ve done a “Greatest Songs Ever” list.  At that time I was trying to dip into retro music and find songs I connected with that were released before I was even born. That whole process was stressful, migraine-inducing and worst of all, it felt forced. For the next set of songs, I’ve chosen the theme of “Self Actualization”.  

I am not able to properly formulate an opinion about music I wasn’t there for, I know this now. Instead, I’ll continue to pull songs I am intimately familiar with to create a quality product on this blog. That’s not me shitting on older generations of music, it's just me finally achieving my full potential when it comes to building a playlist. Let’s get started.  

2006 “Tears Don’t Fall”  - Bullet For My Valentine

If I were to list the genres of music I love, Metal would be number like 4 or 5.  However, every once in a while a song peers it’s head out of the wreckage and catches my ear. From the first guitar chords “Tears Don’t Fall” grabbed me. I’m gonna call it a ballad because it feels like a song that should make me sad. Most screamy emo songs don’t carry the emotional weight they are designed to, but BFMV hits a nerve with “Tears Don’t Fall” that most bands aren’t even able to dream of.  Hell, BFMV has yet to release a song that even scratches the surface of “Tears Don’t Falls’” guttural impact.

2006 “The Sharpest Lives” - My Chemical Romance

I know, I know, this nearly forgotten MCR track wasn’t even a stand out when the seminal The Black Parade album was released, but somehow it has stood the test of time in my library. No MCR song more perfectly encapsulates both the aggression and awkwardness of the band’s entire catalog. “If it looks like I’m laughing, I’m really just asking to leave” is just one of the dozen perfect MCR lyrics on this track. I love “Welcome to The Black Parade”, “This Is How I Disappear”, “Mama”, “Teenagers” and the rest of the 100% classic Black Parade, but “The Sharpest Lives” hits harder both sonically and emotionally than most of the songs released in its decade.  

2006 “Stop This Train” - John Mayer

Ok, let’s slow it down a bit. This isn't this first time I’ve talked about John Mayer in this blog and not even the first time he’s made this list, but its a crime that “Stop This Train” has never been mentioned with the proper respect on it’s name. Written as a touching anthem about the existential nature of growing old, “Train” is the perfect John Mayer song. It combines his knack for simple and honest guitar parts with lightly metaphoric lyrics that cut directly into the segments of our psyche that make us human. The older I get the more this song makes me cry...and that can’t be unestimated.    

2004 “All Downhill From Here”  - New Found Glory

NFG has always been a stealthy favorite band of mine. “All Downhill From Here” is NFG at the height of their power. Once upon a time, I was ashamed to “like” any pop-punk outside of Green Day because of the perceived social implications. Jordan Pundik’s voice is just punky enough to turn most people off at first listen, but through the storm and the years, I’ve realized that NFG is kinda my spirit animal when it comes to pop-punk music. As for the song, it's endlessly singable and has a strong bridge, the two most important parts of any song I wish to immortalize on this dumb list.  

2003 “How About You”  - Staind

This is an admittedly weird one. As the forgotten 3rd single from Staind’s 4th album “How About You” is a song not many people know, however, when I dig into the archives it always floats to the top. Even with its vaguely religious lyrics and somewhat self-righteous delivery, “How About You” is sung with an earnestness not found in nu-metal. Sometimes when I listen to this song I wonder if Aaron Lewis realizes how unique it is to his chosen genre.  

2002 “Harder to Breathe” - Maroon 5

This one is a softball. Everyone knows "Harder to Breathe”, everyone loves "Harder to Breathe”. Its become a go-to karaoke knock-out. So much so that people ask me to sing it all the time. Equal parts pure song-writing talent, and light cultural appropriation, “Harder to Breathe” is funky for white-people-music and that’s really all it needs to succeed. All of Maroon 5′s tracks following that first album have a self-aware calculated feel to them, but “Harder To Breathe” is the best that first album has to offer and is a talented first stab at making a name out of something.  

2011 “Little Black Submarines” - The Black Keys

Most of The Black Keys tracks have an air of pretentiousness to them that’s hard to get past. I like tracks like “Lonely Boy” and “Howlin’ For You” but neither of them sound genuine. They sound like 2 dorky white dudes playing the part of ironic rock stars, which ultimately leads to them making songs for frat guys who are too cool to listen to typical frat guy music. “Little Balck Submarines” is a HUGE exception to your typical Black Keys song, and its the only time I’ve felt real emotion from the duo. 

2007 “Watch Over You” - Alter Bridge

I’ve always liked this song, but it wasn’t until I saw Alter Bridge at the fair a few years ago that I LOVED this song. Alter Bridge gets a lot of shit for being the offspring of Creed, but it's really unwarranted. They are one of the only bands still around carrying the torch for normal-ass rock music. Some may turn their nose up at it, but Alter Bridge has some bangers. “Watch Over You” is your stereotypical, pull out your lighters, ballad, that’s written vaguely enough for it to cover several different relationship dynamics. Its real strength comes from Myles Kennedy’s vocals. He might be the best singer in rock music today.  

1997 “My Own Summer (Shove It)” - Deftones 

In 1997 I was transitioning from being a hard-core Garth Brooks fan, into rock music in a big way. Bands like Nirvana, STP, Pearl Jam, Bush, and Live had a back catalog that I was swimming in the deep end of. The Deftones, and more specifically “My Own Summer” represented a “cooler” and more edgy version of this new found love of Rock music. Chino Mareno’s vocals during the chorus singing “Shove It!” might have been the most aggressive vocals I had ever heard to that point. I still get the occasional goosebump when jamming this track.  I can’t say I was ever cool enough to truly understand why the Deftones were great, but “My Own Summer” is a cornerstone of the musical taste of my formative years.  

2015  “Here to Mars” - Coheed and Cambria

13 years and 7 albums in, I was sure I had heard the best Coheed and Cambria had to offer. “Gravemakers & Gunslingers” was even included in this dumb series of blogs. I wasn’t a huge fan of The Aftermath and I assumed C&C were on their way out creatively. Then they released The Color Before the Sun and I was impressed. That album was their first outside of the silly sci-fi narrative they’ve been weaving for 15 years now. Track 4, “Here To Mars” is a surprisingly straight forward love song that has grown into one of my favorite songs of this decade. Seriously, it’s probably a top 5 from the teens for me. It’s as big as older Coheed songs, but still carries a touching sentiment that I just don’t get from the rest of their library. Of all the songs on this list, I recommend this one the most.  

Ok, that wasn’t so hard...maybe I’ll bang another one of these out soon. Who knows? 

[cursebreakerglenetive]

Mo Ghile Mear - Part 1

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x  reader

Warning/Genre: angst and swearing

Word count: 1.9k words

Summary: Y/N is working a Curse-Breaking job together with her brother after graduation. One day Y/N gets a request for a mission in Romania... and is confronted with a dragon and someone special from their past: Charlie Weasley!

A/N: Might turn this into a series I just needed some actual adventure and angst and lots of Charlie. The title was inspired by an old Irish song which translates to ‘My Gallant Hero’ and I absolutely adore it. Would love some feedback so don’t be shy! xx

Part 2 , Part 3

Your day already started badly when you soaked yourself in hot coffee after your nearly blind owl Teiresias crashed into the window of your home and almost startled you to death. It didn’t get any better after you read the letter that you received.

Someone in Romania needed your help to break a curse on the sealed cave to their family heirloom or something. You were not one for asking further questions, you did your job and received the money and that was that. Yet something about this particular quest sparked your interest.

You had never been to Romania before, avoided it at all costs actually. 

If it weren’t for Charlie Weasley you would’ve visited sooner probably. But that boy was a big part of your past, one that still hurt too much to think about. 

Despite the clenching feeling in your gut you decided to go on the mission. What were the chances of running into the boy who broke your heart two years ago anyway, right?

Quickly you packed up everything for the voyage and left your brother a message explaining where you were going. He was currently on a solo mission somewhere in France which seemed simple enough so you stayed at home.

In a matter of minutes you were ready to apparate to the sent destination in Romania. The client was all too specific in his letter of where to find the cave so you weren’t worried of finding it.

After that your day only went even more downhill. Conveniently the client had apparently missed to point out that said cursed caved was additionally guarded by a dragon.

As soon as you heard the wildly dangerous beast’s huffs you hid behind the closest tree. What kind of an idiot would not mention a giant dragon? You were more than furious, mostly because you came unprepared for a task like that.

You snuck a glance at the beast curled up in front of the cave. It had deep green scales, long golden horns and was at least 40 ft long. Of course it could only be a Romanian Longhorn.

You silently cursed under your breath as you thought of a way to get the beast out of the way.

Distantly you remembered Professor Kettleburn talking about the Stunning Spell to reign in dragons. It was as good a guess as any so you settled for the only chance to solve this problem.

With a quick movement of your wand you cast Stupefy, the dragon still unknowing, and the Romanian Longhorn was rendered unconscious.

You should really thank your old professor for the years teaching you the stuff that everybody else found unnecessary back at Hogwarts. Well, everybody except one of course. Charlie had always loved dragons, you weren’t too surprised that he wanted to work with them.

Then again you were more than surprised when he told you he would go to Romania immediately after graduation…after you just started dating.

You were quickly growing angry with yourself because you thought of him instead of concentrating on the mission at hand. Carefully you put one food in front of the other and sneaked behind the dragon.

Up close you had to admit that it was absolutely beautiful despite its dangerous allure. Maybe that’s what actually fascinated you about the beast, the danger simmering beneath.

Everybody who knew you also knew you were always up for an adventure, even if death might be involved.

As you inspected the locked cave entrance and thought about possible ways to break in (Alohomora might be a much too easy choice but it could work) you felt a breath of air in your neck.

A reeking and warm breeze despite the rather cold weather in Romania at this time of the year. You didn’t dare move after feeling the breeze again, even closer now.

And that’s when your day went to absolute shit.

As slowly as possible you craned your neck behind you, in fear of what might await you.

And as suspected the dragon’s eyes stared at you unblinking and menacing. You gulped once and tried to reach for your wand at your hip.

It was typically stupid of you to not check if the spell worked long enough. Of course you couldn’t tame a 40 ft dragon by yourself. How did you even survive until now? 

If the dragon’s baring teeth were any indication you wouldn’t live much longer to tell the tale. Its eyes travelled to your hand grasping the wand.

Before you even had the chance to cast a spell, the dragon roared loudly and then began to attack you.

Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and since you weren’t quite stupid enough to try to fight a Romanian Longhorn you took off running with fire on your heels, quite literally actually as the dragon spew a trail of sizzling hotness behind you. 

You were running faster than ever before in your life but as you looked behind you saw that the dragon was close behind. Of course you just had to trip over an exposed root next and hurt your ankle in the process of falling. You were absolutely screwed.

Crouching on the ground, you fiddled for you wand and cast Depulso which didn’t seem to do the beast any harm and only made him angrier. Great.

Quite ready to die you sent a silent apology to your brother Jacob after leaving him so soon after you just found him again. You were certain this would be the end and you couldn’t possibly be content with the story of your death. It was way too unheroic for your taste.

The dragon screamed once again, now standing right in front of you. You shielded your face, already anticipating the burning of its flame.

“Heya!“ A deep human sounding noise suddenly echoed trough the forest.

You must’ve been dreaming because there was just no way someone would be even more reckless than you and scream at a dragon in attack.

But as you peaked between your fingers you sure as hell saw a young buff man standing a mere feet away from you to your right waving his hands frantically at the dragon to distract him.

You felt a sharp pain in your chest as you noticed his wild red curls, they looked all to familiar.

The man quickly turned around to check on you and your heart stopped in your chest as you met his eyes, eyes that were still present in your dreams every night.

Charlie Weasley looked down at you in complete and utter shock as he recognized your face that must have held the same expression.

And this guy, he had the audacity to actually throw a smug smile your way despite literally standing between you and certain death.

Fortunately at least one of you seemed able to think clearly as you broke the eye contact and refocused on the dragon.

“Watch out!“ You warned him as the dragon was about to attack. Quickly you cast Protego and saved your ex-boyfriend from a stream of fire.

He ran to your side and readied his wand as you tried to stand up, your ankle hurting with every move.

“Are you okay?“ He inquired and looked you up and down for any injuries.

You were about to spit into his face that everything was fantastic despite your broken heart and not hearing from him for two years but your conscious decided against it.

“Twisted my ankle, can’t run.“ You motioned towards your right foot and suppressed a hiss of pain.

“Running won’t get us out of here alive anyway,“ He pondered but quickly cast Episkey on your ankle which relieved you of at least some of the pain, “We’ll have to cast Stupefy together and hope it renders him unconscious long enough for us to escape.“

That was exactly what got you into this mess before but you were not about to argue with a trained dragonologist who just saved your life. 

Charlie’s eyes skipped to the dragon frantically as he readied himself for an attack once again.

“Careful!“ He screamed and pushed you to the side, him throwing himself on you as the dragon’s fire reached the both of you.

Some of the flames caught your skin and the searing pain made tears well up in your eyes.

“Shit, shit shit!“ Charlie cursed who bore the brunt of the burn but was wearing special clothing that kept him safe. His caring eyes looked over your body when you entered some kind of frenzy.

There was a sharp pain everywhere and the whole world became unfocused, except Charlie, he was as clear as day.

He still had the same kind blue eyes as always and freckles all over his face like constellations of stars, maybe some more had appeared after the long days working in the sun.

The light scruff on his chin and around his mouth was new however and so was his stronger muscled physique that still lay on top of you. 

He was still your Charlie, your first and only love, but he was also a man now. You couldn’t believe how much had changed about him in only two years. You had missed him so much.

“Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?“ His deep voice brought you back to reality. You managed to get a quiet yes out and watched as he breathed relieved.

“Listen, we have to get out of here first and then I can treat your burns. Okay?“ He held you by your waist as he helped you to a standing position again. 

“Stupefy on three!“ He ordered and held you close to him, your arm around his shoulders to steady yourself.

“1…2…3!“ You gathered every single essence of magic left inside you and reached out for Charlie’s magic in the process. This wasn’t the first time the both of you cast a spell together.

You knew his magic better than yours at a time, even managed to cast his signature dragon Patronus once despite your original one being something else. 

“Stupefy!“ You screamed in unison and felt as the power of the combined spell broke through your wand. The bright light blinded you for a second and you had to shut your eyes.

When you looked at the dragon it wasn’t moving anymore. Out of relief you sighed deeply and felt your feet give out beneath you shortly after.

Before you hit the ground however Charlie swept you up in his strong arms and left the forest in quick determined strides.

You were fading in and out of consciousness as he carried you away from the dragon but distinctly heard him ramble.

“Y/N! Y/N, stay with me! I cannot lose you again, do you hear me? Please stay with me.“ Your brain only registered half of what he said as your body was too tired and weak to keep you awake with the pain of the burns still sweeping through it.

As you closed your eyes your thoughts wandered to a song your mother used to sing to you when you were young. It was an old Irish tale of a gallant hero rescuing a young maiden and then leaving her. 

As you felt your first love’s arms around you keeping you safe you started humming the melody of Mo Ghile Mear and slowly drifted into sleep. 

[clamsuup]

Jan 28th/Overlap

Again, I haven’t written for awhile now. There has been many reasons to that, one being in the decline of my mental health and then everything else along with that just slowly deteriorated or went downhill. 

It has been somewhat better though. Kind of, but I know it’s masking itself and becoming very slightly dormant until it is ready to manifest itself onto the next opportunity it can get. It’s like a disease. Well, then again, it is an illness. 

i’ve been wanting to write for the longest time, but for some reason each time that I tried to, I just couldn’t. Up until now. 

Things are slightly different and better than it was last quarter--the past three months. I replaced the previous two jobs for two newer jobs, and these certainly will be a long-term thing. One is an unpaid public relations and marketing internship in Downtown area and the other is right on-campus where I am a Language and Culture Coach. Basically doing what I had been previously as an ESL tutor, but this time I am coaching and prepping graduate students as well as for their TA positions. Definitely an upgrade and much better commute than my last two jobs. It’s pretty neat knowing that I am leaving a “legacy” behind at the institution that I am attending, but without any intentions of doing so. I just know that a short biography and picture of me along with the other coaches will be published either on the school’s website or their catalog. 

I’m glad I made these changes and found these opportunities because it really did help me feel a bit better with this whole transition. Also to help me get out of the house. That’s something that I have made a goal for myself--get out more and not be glued to this house. It still has been difficult, I feel it’s related to the mental health aspect, but I’m still trying to meet this specific goal these next coming months. 

The other goal is to regulate the sleeping schedule. It hasn’t been too bad, again, I feel taking up these new jobs help because it aligns with my career and financial expectations, so waking up feels nicer and less of a “I have to.” I just want to be able to wake up at 7:45 am as I did a couple days ago because I came to realize how much nicer and more wonderful it was to not get up groggily and then rush. That’s all I had been doing within the last three months. Rush. Well, actually it seems many of my life decisions (e.g. transferring, relationships, overly-ambitious goals, etc.), you get the picture. Well, for once it felt nice. It was this sense of great peacefulness that washed over me as I readied my day with more care and attention. 

I still aspire to wake up at 5 am to get as many things done whether that is to study and workout, that has certainly been a reoccuring goal since 2015. I recently read through letters I had written to myself starting with that year, and waking up at 5 had always been the top three. I think I understand now what those people who publish all those self-help, self-motivation articles mean when they describe the silence you not only hear, but also feel waking up at the crack of dawn to begin your day while the world is asleep. It’s quite inspiring.

I shouldn’t be staying up too late right now, but I’m writing as much as I can and allowing all these thought juice flow out. It feels nice to write and be able for these emotions to spill out with no restriction. The last thing I want to share is that I have a cat now. 

Yes, I took up on another pet and again, I did rush into this decision despite telling myself to wait until either this summer or next year. Well, the decision had been made and honestly, one of the best decisions yet. My cat is two years old and she is a wonderful black cat. I wanted a siamese, but it’s pretty difficult to find them at shelters and since I find the stereotypes of black cats being depicted as “bad luck,” I decided to adopt one. They don’t deserve to die simply because of that, or for any reasons for that matter. No animal should. I believe it either is very nearly a month since I had her, if not already so, and she is just so smart (also not too smart as well because, cats). It took about a week for her and Po to finally get along. Well...they still aren’t super compatible, but trust me, it’s far better than it was the first couple days with all the hissing, chasing, and no boundaries. 

It’s really nice having her around because I don’t feel too lonely at home, physically and mentally. I know this will be a permanent thing and it’s a wonderful feeling. What’s even better is I bought her a harness and leash yesterday at Petco and have been walking her. It was Day 2 yesterday of walking her in broad daylight within my neighborhood and man did she love it. 

Last thing, I feel a bit disconnected from my music side lately. I haven’t been reposting much on SoundCloud, not sure if it’s because there hasn’t been good music coming up on the feed, but it really does seem to be the main reason. I guess the other small reason is because my stalker since high school still stalks me online. I get so livid from this, still do. *Ah, I need to contact my inner peace.* Since I discovered this piece of crap started to reach out to me again, I had to private my Instagram again and that kind of made me stopped posting about what I love, which is obviously music. I know that I shouldn’t need to have a person to stop me from doing what I love most, but it’s hard to do so when this person can just sit behind a screen and think of all these god knows fucking what about you. Worst, continuously try to reach out to you. Actually, scratch that worst would be taking screenshots of my pictures. That piece of fuck had done that before and even posted to its social media stating that I am involved with it. lol.

Well, since then, I had also changed the name of my soundcloud, which then also led me to slowly stop reposting. I did find one new Australian band recently with a really good track, but that’s about it. I don’t know what’s going on with the SoundCloud community/artists, but there definitely hasn’t been that much great songs lately. Honestly, YouTube has been more reliable so I’ve been on that a lot for new songs as well as watching a lot of videos, something I used to not do. Well well, since there hasn’t been many ko-ality uploads, here is that band’s track. Definitely would love to feature this song on a vlog or my Instagram page. Ahh, this jam warps me back to SF and especially LA.

https://soundcloud.com/daste-music/sober?in=lamclam/sets/to-another-year

enjoy.

[penniesforthestorm]

Castle Rock

Part I: Memory and Time

Episode 1: “Severance” Episode 2: “Habeas Corpus” Episode 3: “Local Color”

“What I keep wondering—all the smells we smell, all the songs and pictures—do you lose them all? I mean, wherever you go next, does the tape get erased? And if it does, you aren’t really you anymore, are you?”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?”

 “That’s what I want.”

The above conversation takes place almost halfway into the first episode of Castle Rock, the new Hulu series produced by Stephen King and J.J. Abrams. Henry Deaver (Andre Holland), a death-row attorney, is having a final conversation with his client, a 93-year-old woman whose appeal has been denied. She is musing on the nature of memory, and we get the general idea that her life is full of scenes she’d rather leave behind. For his part, Henry is drawn back to an incident from his childhood: during a freezing winter, he went missing in the woods near his home, and was found by the local sheriff, totally unaffected by the subzero conditions. The sheriff asked what happened to him, but Henry did not remember.            Memory plays an enormous role on Castle Rock, both within the world of the series and outside of it. It’s been established that Stephen King’s work takes place within a connected universe, and ever since Castle Rock premiered, the internet has been buzzing with theories about how it ties into the larger King canon. Now I have to make a confession: I am nobody’s idea of a Stephen King aficionado. I’ve seen several of the most popular screen adaptations of his work, and just through pop-culture osmosis, I’d say I have a general awareness of his major stories, but nothing beyond a surface level. So that’s going to impact how I write about and interpret this series. Honestly, though, I haven’t felt like I’m missing out—the story so far has been strong enough to stand on its own.

In Episode 1, however, a near-immediate connection is established to one of King’s most famous works: The Shawshank Redemption. We see a man (Terry O’Quinn) cooking breakfast for his wife, and they have a brief conversation mentioning the man’s imminent retirement. The man, addressed as Mr. Lacy, drives through town, and on his car radio, an aria is playing. It’s “Che soave zeffiretto” from The Marriage of Figaro—the same piece from one of the climactic scenes of The Shawshank Redemption, when Andy Dufresne plays it over the prison’s loudspeaker system. We watch as Mr. Lacy drives into the woods, stopping atop a bluff. The camera shows a length of rope trailing out of the car, tied to a nearby tree. Mr. Lacy takes the other end of the rope (looped into a noose), slips it around his neck, turns off the radio, and floors the gas pedal, launching the car off the bluff. As the vehicle sinks into the black waters of the lake below, the camera fixes on its back bumper, where we see the insignia of the Maine Department of Corrections, and that evocative name: Shawshank. Then we see Shawshank itself, its stone turrets and barbed-wire fencing rising out of a grey mist. It turns out that Mr. Lacy was Warden Lacy, until recently. The new warden, played by Ann Cusack, listens grimly to the guards as they hint at the prison’s dark history, showing particular interest in a young guard’s remark about a wing of the prison that has stood empty for thirty years. The young guard, Zalewski (Noel Fisher), is sent to count the empty cells, and immediately finds something that doesn’t seem right—boot prints. He follows them to a heavy metal door, which leads to another door in the middle of the floor. Zalewski opens it, revealing only a seemingly disused water tank, and is about to leave when something falls out of his pocket. He crawls down the ladder on the side of the tank, and finds… A chair. A coffee can full of cigarette butts. A metal cage, with a young man in it. The young man, played by Bill Skarsgård, is emaciated and pale, and his bearing is meek and fearful. He does not speak, and more unnervingly, he doesn’t blink, his large hazel eyes staring hollowly at his questioners. Finally, in the warden’s office, he mumbles a name, through a voice that clearly hasn’t been used in some time: “Henry Deaver.” This brings us to the scene I discussed at the beginning. It turns out that Henry Deaver grew up in the town of Castle Rock, twenty miles from Shawshank. Zalewski calls him anonymously, defying the warden’s dictum that the mysterious young man should be kept secret, and Henry comes back home. Over the course of the rest of the episode, Henry begins to realize that something is rotten in Castle Rock. The storefronts downtown are boarded up, his adoptive mother Ruth (Sissy Spacek) is exhibiting severe memory loss, the local cemetery has been paved over, and the kindly sheriff from Henry’s childhood, Alan Pangborn (Scott Glenn), has taken more than a neighborly interest in Ruth. Also, no one at the prison seems willing to give Henry any information about his mysterious ‘client’.

In the second episode, Henry pays a visit to Warden Lacy’s home looking for clues, and at first, seems to find a sympathetic ear in the widowed Martha Lacy. But once she discovers who he is, she turns him out. Some people in Castle Rock have longer memories than others. When Henry vanished into the woods all those years ago, his adoptive father, the Reverend Matthew Deaver, was found with his neck broken, and later succumbed to his injuries. The young Henry was suspected of an active role in that circumstance. When Henry visits his father’s old church, the new pastor makes an awkward remark about Henry being ‘redemption in the flesh’. Over at Shawshank, the mystery around The Kid (as he is named in the credits) has deepened. Zalewski, on security camera duty, sees The Kid in a hallway, with a trail of corpses behind him. But it’s a false alarm—everything is as it should be. Meanwhile, Warden Porter is enjoying a drink at a hotel bar when she is interrupted by none other than Alan Pangborn. He tells her a strange story about Warden Lacy—that he claimed to have found and captured the Devil. Pangborn growls, “Don’t let that fuckin’ kid out.” The episode also fully introduces the character of Molly Strand (Melanie Lynskey), who used to live downhill from the Deaver house, and nursed a childhood crush on Henry. Current-day Molly is a nervous misfit, swallowing pills she buys from a scraggly teenager to deal with what she calls ‘other people’s noise’. In a flashback, it’s revealed that she may know more about Henry Deaver’s disappearance than he does—we see the young Molly watch from her window as Pastor Deaver calls Henry outside in the middle of the night. When questioned by the police, however, she denies any knowledge of what’s going on.

Episode 3, “Local Color”, opens with a scene of young Molly walking through the snow to the Deaver house, putting on Henry’s red plaid jacket, and climbing the stairs to where the injured Pastor Deaver lies. Without a moment’s hesitation, young Molly pulls out his ventilator. Now, the viewer knows the answer to at least one of Castle Rock’s mysteries. In the present day, we follow Molly as she prepares to go on a local-access show to talk about her plan to revitalize Castle Rock’s moribund downtown. Molly finally has a face-to-face conversation with Henry, and it leaves her so upset that she tracks down her dealer, who tells her to try her luck out at the motor court. Molly goes to the motor court at night, and asks a little girl if she knows where ‘Derek’ is. The girl points Molly toward a structure nearby, and as Molly approaches, we hear the voices of children. It appears to be some kind of mock trial, and almost all the children are wearing grotesque papier-mâché masks.  The ‘witness’, a little boy, says that the ‘killer’ is in the courtroom, and immediately points to Molly. “Guilty! Guilty!” the children shout. It’s oddly disappointing when the ‘judge’, aka Derek, brings Molly to his perfectly ordinary trailer and they begin to haggle over the pills, only to be interrupted by sirens. The next morning, Henry happens to be at the local police station, trying to get information. He bails Molly out just in time for her to make her TV appearance. After an uncomfortable few moments, Molly bursts out with the truth: there is a young man being kept at Shawshank, without being convicted of any crime. At last, Henry Deaver is formally invited to Shawshank. At last, Henry sits down face-to-face with The Kid. At last, The Kid communicates more, asking Henry, “Has it begun?” in a way that seems fraught with some deeper meaning. Skarsgård’s gawky physicality and hesitant speech patterns make an intriguing contrast to the menacing aura that has developed around him. In the previous episode, he was forced to share a cell with a burly neo-Nazi, and shortly thereafter, the other man suddenly dropped dead. Henry, however, seems instantly won over, reassuring The Kid that he’s there to help.

I’m grouping the episodes three at a time for reasons that will become clear in future installments (hey, look, I can do serialization too!). Before I go, I do want to make a note of the music on the show: the score is composed by Thomas Newman, who has contributed to some of my favorite films (Road to Perdition, Meet Joe Black, and, of course, The Green Mile and The Shawshank Redemption), and his spare piano chords go a long way toward establishing the show’s eerie atmosphere. I think I have now gone on entirely long enough for this round, but if you like what you’ve read, come back for more! There will be more anyway, because this is my blog and I’ve committed to this, so… that’s that on that.

[zephfair]

Get to Know the Author

I was tagged by @desperatlytryingtowriteabook so this is about my fanfic (or lack thereof)

1. Is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

I have 10+ fics either mostly done or heavily outlined and I just don’t want to post them. I’m not super active in any fandom anymore so I know none of the fics are very good and I just don’t care enough to put them out there. They’re all fluff or humor or smut.

2. What work of yours, if any, are you embarrassed about existing?

Eh, I’m not embarrassed about any fic I’ve written because they all meant something to me at the time, even the weird one with alien sex.

3. What order do you write in? Front of book to back? Chronological? Favourite scenes first? Something else?

Mostly chronological, I guess. When I get an idea, I just start writing as fast as I can if the outline is developing in my head. I want to get down all the ideas I have, whether or not only a fourth of them make the final cut. That helps with the chronology and then all the little dialogue snippets I come up with as I go along. Once that’s done, it’s easier to go back to the beginning and fill it all in.

4. Favourite character you’ve written?

I love writing Riario from Da Vinci’s Demons and Gustav from Tokio Hotel.

5. Character you were most surprised to end up writing?

Gustav, definitely. And Grimmjow from Bleach.

6. Something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now?

Sometimes I get a hankering to go back and edit stuff to make it tighter but I’m too lazy. The only fic I’ve ever done that to is Thick as Thieves because it got weirdly popular for about a minute and every time I looked over it I found things I wanted to fix, particularly over-explaining and over-describing things. So I gave it a trim and hope that it reads a little better now.

7. When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

The only people who know I write fanfic are online friends and I’ve had generally positive reactions from them. There was only one fandom I can think of that really looked down its nose at fanfic but I told them right off I was writing so they could judge me all they wanted.

8. Favourite genre to write?

Comedy, fluff and action. I break out in hives when I read or think about angst. And I always argue that there is a big difference between drama and angst. Drama is necessary in anything that isn’t a total fluff or slapstick comedy ficlet, but drama is good. I just can’t handle angst where everything bad happens and then more bad happens and then there is an unhappy ending.

9. What, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

I’ve been reading a lot thanks to Amazon Kindle’s freebie program thing and oh boy, does it make me appreciate good fanfic even more! Also it really helps to re-watch or re-read the source material for the fandom I want to write in. That usually brings up some more ideas for fix-it fic or adding on a scene here and there. Or suddenly realizing all the UST there was between two characters that I didn’t see a decade ago.

10. Write in silence or with background music? Alone or with others?

I have to have background noise, preferably the TV set to sports or sitcom reruns, something I won’t be paying attention to. I live alone so there’s that, but if I’m somewhere with a long wait, I’ve been known to write smut at the hairdressers and fluff fic at the garage waiting for my oil change.

11. What aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

I think my fanfic has actually gotten worse since I started posting on AO3. I feel like I hit a plateau during Teen Wolf days and then actually went downhill with characterizations and writing style. I lost the showing part of the stories and started getting lazy and relying on the telling.

12. Your weaknesses as an author?

Plots, omg, what are Plots???? I just don’t have the energy, time or creativity to come up with and execute any multi-chapter, intricately plotted fanfics. I admire and kiss the feet of fanfic authors who do. I’m madly jealous of you guys! Also lately the telling rather than showing thing, as I said.

13. Your strengths as an author?

I don’t have any. I guess I’m reasonably good at clean copy—spelling, grammar, punctuation.

14. Do you make playlists for your work?

Nah, I don’t listen to music while I write. But I do have a list of songs that reminded me of the DVD bandfic whose title I honestly can’t remember at the moment...it’s the longest title I ever made but it cracked me up at the time. Every time I hear one of those songs, I immediately think of those guys. I never shared it because it’s a weird mix of 80s and 90s hair bands, some 2010s pop and a few contemporary Christian songs whose singer was my voice model for Riario.

15. Why did you start writing?

I’ve been writing pretty much as long as I can remember, but the first time I shared it was in seventh grade when my two best friends and I started writing a book in a spiralbound notebook we passed back and forth. Now we would call it a self-insert fanfic, but we didn’t know anything except we were having a great time. Then they both left our school and I fell out of touch with them for the most part. I kept writing because I could make the world I wanted on the page so I could re-read it.

16. Are there characters that haunt you?

Canon characters that haunt me are Riario because he has layers hidden under his layers wrapped around his layers and canon did him so wrong. I still feel a lot of sympathy for Derek from Teen Wolf and want him to have a happy ending. Now I’m starting to feel a lot more feelings about Bleach characters.

17. If you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

Write what you love. Read all the things, everything, every genre. Which is weird because I’ve done both of those things and … I haven’t turned out all that great. So I guess it would be to practice more, write all the time and don’t let yourself get lazy and complain you have no energy to write, you lazy fuck.

18. Were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? What were they?

I think Elizabeth Peters influenced my writing style in the past 18 years since I discovered her. Although I don’t write fanfic in the first-person, she is a master of the unreliable narrator as well as creating characters who are lively and complicated and burst off the page (which I don’t do). But her use of language and her style is wonderful, and I see glimpses of that sometimes but not often enough. Her humor is the one thing I strive for too. Also Terry Pratchett for his use of humor and satire and his brilliant way of turning everyday, common things on their head. I once wrote a fairy tale kind of fic for a prompt fest and the prompter compared it to Discworld, and I walked around with my chest puffed out for days.

19. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, etc?

Ha, I don’t write complicated things. But my outline process serves me pretty well when I do attempt longer fic.

20. Do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

I prefer long sit-down sessions. Once I get in the groove, things seem to roll better. If I have to keep getting up or getting distracted, it sucks.

21. What do you think when you read over your older work?

“Hahaha, I can’t believe you answered a kinkmeme prompt where the two main characters were lions in a zoo and they humped.”

22. Are there subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?

Angst. I won’t write rape or sexual violence. No non-con. No major character death. I know there are other things but I don’t run into them because I only stick to the stuff I like.

23. Any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

All the time. I’ve pulled from my professional life more than once. I wrote one fic based on a very bizarre week that happened to me and everyone thought it was very wacky and hilarious. It wasn’t at the time and I did change the ending to give it a happy resolution, but I can look back now and merely grimace. I guess it was pretty funny.

24. Have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

No, I’m the opposite. If I write an AU fic, I try to set it in a world or scene that I’m already familiar with because I’m lazy. I did do some Renaissance research when I was writing for Da Vinci’s Demons.

25. Copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of.

From Treasure in Clay Vessels which is one of my favorite things, overall, that I’ve ever written:

Even though he'd seen the smaller sample, Girolamo was amazed all over again at the sight. It was awe-inspiring—a mechanical bird flying without wires. But even more astounding was the talent and sheer audacity of a man imagining that he could make mere metal fly as well as the Creator made birds take to wing.

It was blasphemy. It was surely sin.

It was incredible.

[shvdxs]

but you know that this is useless

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? yeah but we do be workin on that

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? not really only when im woken up in the middle of the night fearing for my life

3. The person you would never want to meet? oh you know

4. What is your favorite word? peruse deadass

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? womping willow i want mfs to nap under me

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? yike!

7. What shirt are you wearing? black noodie

8. What do you label yourself as? tired

9. Bright room or dark room? dark

10. What were you doing at midnight last night? i couldn’t sleep because of the thunder so i went on my home computer and went through the pictures from my mom’s camera and came across some pictures i didn’t know existed bc i’d been looking for pictures from my 2016 twirp bc k8 and i looked hot as shit but i only had 2 pictures??? 

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? i think 16 i “glowed up” whatever the fuck that means from being emo but 17-18 was absolutely the happiest years of my life until everything went down hill my sophomore year of college and then shit got better the beginning of my senior year and then it went DOWNHILL FAST but then my roommate and i became best friends and i got close with my homies from work and everything was getting great right before i turned 22 and then bam shit got bad because RONA

12. Who told you they loved you last? my mama like 2 minutes ago

13. Your worst enemy? trump, i think the only person that’s fucked up my life is my grandmother, however there’s a couple of people i know that deserve a hexin

14. What is your current desktop picture? its changing kitten pictures

15. Do you like someone? nah

16. The last song you listened to? the song that was last played on my spotify was boy bye

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? trump fUCK him UP im SO SICK and TIRED

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? ^^^^^ + (null) and maybe (null)

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? anyone i’ve absolutely babied and slaved over in my life out of pure love that fed off that and left

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) height and legs fucking duh, unfortunately ive got wide ribs and no snatched waist but im model status at this point

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? i genuinely cannot answer that

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? uh my hands are doubled jointed and im oddly flexible

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? facial tattoos

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. i hate sandwiches but say i had to eat one................ subway BMT w provolone with every vegetable on white

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? fuckin rent bc Mizz Rona

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? i mean AFTER mizz rona i’d like to go to fucking europe, specifically greece or norway. or just straight to australia fuck it

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? i read heaven and said i gotta go then saw alcohol. the switch i made was incredible. mojito. i want a blueberry mojito.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? animal crossing????? my rule is no uglies

29. What is your favorite expletive? excuse me

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? if it’s my apartment im grabbing my laptop because i have homework due assuming my phone is in my pants

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? WOW! PLEASE! i beg of you

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! norway bye

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? we been knew death is a homie, however i’d bring back (out of all of my favorite artists) epstein for the tea

34. What was your last dream about? uh i took a nap which usually leads to lucid dreams so i started dreaming that i was vomiting and then it switched to a lucid dream so i was like gross imma spit it out and then i realized i was in my dorm so i was like wait let me do some rad shit but then i woke up drooling

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? no. im not good at anything.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? yeE

37. Have you ever built a snowman? of course

38. What is the color of your socks? grey rn

39. What type of music do you like? i like emo shit

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? sunset

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? mint chocolate baby

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer) i dont watch football but bears bc im from chi

43. Do you have any scars? on god

44. What do you want to be when you graduate? i wanna go to grad school but MIZZ RONA

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? my brain, i know id be successful in so many realms with my interests and goals but i have so many setbacks and fears and mental illnesses that it keeps me back but i do be pushin thru

46. Are you reliable? i try to be

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? how far into the future tho

48. Do you hold grudges? unfortunately noooo but that’s because im passive and fear loosing people

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? cat and owl lemme see her

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? dont even know where to start

51. Are you a good liar? lmao yeah my mom turned me into a straight faced liar

52. How long could you go without talking? i’ve gone days

53. What has been you worst haircut/style? rn. fucking rn. they cut my hair so short i want to die.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake? so many times

55. Can you do any accents other than your own? of course

56. What do you like on your toast? butter and cinnamon sugar yall know what i mean

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? i miss drawing, but i played telestrations after dark and im p sure it was “spermicide” and i ended up having to draw someone shooting a dick with a gun

58. What would be you dream car? ooooo, okay i’d die for a mercedes SLS or a jaguar F-type 

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. i vibe

60. Do you believe in aliens? of course

61. Do you often read your horoscope? its funny tho so a lot

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? X

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? dragons bc they aren’t real

64. What do you think about babies? NO. i cannot with the noise. the clean up. disgusting. yall sacrificing too much to wipe shit and silence children.

[gaybriel-reyes]

UNSUAL ASKS 1 through whatever number it went to, I just saw it and legit can't remember. Do them all fam, am interested.

Holy Moly, this is gonna take a while. But I appreciate it, anon. Thanks for asking!

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? I´ve never used one of these properly but I guess Spotify??

is your room messy or clean? 4 out of 7 days it´s messy. Messy is its natural state

what color are your eyes? Dark brown

do you like your name? why? Yeah, I like its origin and meaning. Also it isn´t either common or weird, a nice in-between.

what is your relationship status? Single and ready to mingle

describe your personality in 3 words or less. What the fuck

what color hair do you have? Dark brown

what kind of car do you drive? color? Sentra, grey. But I don´t really drive often

where do you shop? The shops I frecuent the most are clothing ones and those are H&M and Pull and Bear (??)

how would you describe your style? (In personality, music taste, clothing...?) In every aspect I stick to comfort and what I like the most at the moment. 

favorite social media account. Tumblr and Facebook. In Tumblr I feel the most loved (lmao) but since I created a fake account in Facebook and joined some communities there, I´ve been having a lot of fun. Well, Tumblr for the win

what size bed do you have? Individual?? (I don´t know how it is called in English) Lemme tell you it´s small as fuck

any siblings? Yes, a little one. 

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? Already answered

favorite snapchat filter? The one with the mask (I don´t know how to say “cubrebocas” in English sORRy) with animal print in it. It´s perfect for me cause it covers half my face with it

favorite makeup brand(s) I don´t use makeup. Only for special occasions

how many times a week do you shower? Daily

favorite tv show? Already answered

shoe size? Uhhh in my country´s measure it´s 24

how tall are you? 1.56 cm (5″1 aprox)

sandals or sneakers? Sneakers

do you go to the gym? LMAO. I haven´t gone to the gym in months

describe your dream date. A night out in the city (my home city to be specific)

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? 500 pesos (aproximately 25 dollars)

what color socks are you wearing? Grey with blue dots

how many pillows do you sleep with? 1

do you have a job? what do you do? nope. I do wish I had one

how many friends do you have? That´s a fun question. I have a lot of internet friends but I only have one best friend which I could trust my life with.

whats the worst thing you have ever done? Too many

whats your favorite candle scent? Apple and cinnamon

3 favorite boy names. Emiliano, Antonio and I don´t have a third one

3 favorite girl names. Cassandra, Alicia and Julieta

favorite actor? (He´s a voice actor I hope it still counts) Troy Baker

favorite actress? Lupita Nyongo´o

who is your celebrity crush? Troy Baker again

favorite movie? Dead Poets Society

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? Unfortunately not as I used to (ironic cause what I want to study requires lots of reading) and my favorite book is Sarah´s Key by Tatiana de Rosnay

money or brains? bRAiNS

do you have a nickname? what is it? Fati or Fa

how many times have you been to the hospital? Just when I was born lol. I´ve never been hospitalized

top 10 favorite songs. Already answered and too lazy to put it again

do you take any medications daily? No. This week is an exception cause I´m sick :P

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) OiLY AS helL

what is your biggest fear? Death (ironic cause I want to die 24/7. Hard to explain)

how many kids do you want? 2 or none. Kinda want a family kinda want a peaceful life

whats your go to hair style? Ponytail

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) Apartment

who is your role model? My dad. Just not as close-minded as he is

what was the last compliment you received? Someone suggested to make me a fan club 

what was the last text you sent? Already answered

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? 12. It went all downhill from there

what is your dream car? Mustang

opinion on smoking? Disgusting but I still do it sometimes oops

do you go to college? It´s almost time for me to

what is your dream job? Working at a place where books are edited

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? Rural, but my dream is to live right in the city

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? No

do you have freckles? Nope 

do you smile for pictures? Just a slight smile

how many pictures do you have on your phone? 1, 080

have you ever peed in the woods? Yeah... It was an emergency

do you still watch cartoons? Anime doesn´t enter this category so no. (Not a big fan of anime anyways)

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? McDonald´s. Extra fact: I´ve never been to Wendy´s

Favorite dipping sauce? None

what do you wear to bed? A long, old blouse

have you ever won a spelling bee? No :( Haunts me till this very day

what are your hobbies? Play video games for the most part. I also like reading 

can you draw? Not really

do you play an instrument? I used to play guitar

what was the last concert you saw? It was September of 2016. Twenty one Pilots

tea or coffee? Coffee

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? I´ve never been to Dunkin Donuts but Starbuck is expensive as hell so...

do you want to get married? Yup

what is your crush’s first and last initial? A and R

are you going to change your last name when you get married? HELL NO

what color looks best on you? Blue??? 

do you miss anyone right now? At this very moment, no

do you sleep with your door open or closed? Closed. Don´t want any diabolic spirits to get in, right?

do you believe in ghosts? No???

what is your biggest pet peeve? Myself as a person

last person you called` My aunt

favorite ice cream flavor? Mamey

regular oreos or golden oreos? Regular oreos

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? Rainbow sprinkles

what shirt are you wearing? A neon green one. I used it in training when I was a cheerleader :´)

what is your phone background? Already answered

are you outgoing or shy? SHY

do you like it when people play with your hair? IF YOU PLAY WITH MY HAIR IM ALL YOURS

do you like your neighbors? Mmmm... no

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? At night

have you ever been high? No

have you ever been drunk? Nope

last thing you ate? A chocolate bar

favorite lyrics right now: Give me your forever, or at least just for a whileGive me never ending, or at least give me a mileGive me happiness, or at least give me a smileGive me forever for a while, give me forever for a whileQuit actin' like a baby, or at least less like a childGive me serenity, or at least just peace of mindGive me closure, or at least a phone callGive me forever for a while, give me forever for a while

summer or winter? I´m a summer hoe

day or night? Night even though it´s when i suffer the most

dark, milk, or white chocolate? Dark

favorite month? June

what is your zodiac sign. Gemini

who was the last person you cried in front of? My dad. It was months ago

[theinkstainsblog]

2, 11, and 15, please, for the identity asks?

Thanks for sending these lovely xx These are some great ones.

2: have you ever found a writer who thinks just like you? if so, who?

To be honest, I don’t think I really have. I mean I’ve certainly seen parts of me mirrored in various books and ideas, but I think the beauty of writing is it is putting our own thoughts on paper - and every writer’s voice can be so unique even when writing the same tired old stories, we’re always bringing new experiences and new flavour with us.

11: describe your ideal day.

You mean like realistically how I would like today to go or my dream day? I’ll answer for how I’d like today to go, then I can do positive thinking and see how much of it I manage.

How I’d like today to go:

- I get up, now, it’s 6:30 am. I get dressed, brush my hair. 

- I grab a bowl of cereal and while I’m eating I draft a new blog post to put up on my Wordpress later

- At about 7:30 am I brush my teeth, put shoes on, that kind of thing. 

- Hop on my bike. It’s about five miles to work which is fine but its mostly up hill. I will hate it while I’m doing it. That’s okay, I’ll be glad I did it later. 

- Get to work for 9:00am. Use my awesome ID thing to scan myself in at the door (I still feel like a spy doing that I’m such a child).

- Say good morning to everyone, make a cup of tea, settle down.

- Do some testing. Find some cool problems with the software. Confuse the poor developers with the problems. Poor developers. 

- Break at like 1:00 pm for lunch. I get half an hour lunch break which is the perfect time to sit down and work on my novel while I eat. Try to maintain a good balance between writing and chatting to my co-workers (who are all lovely) so as not to appear standoffish. Probably fail.

- Back to testing for the afternoon. Should all go smoothly from here. Unless the devs decide they want to get their nerf guns out or something that’s usually interesting. 

- 5:00pm. Cycle home again. Somehow magically avoid traffic so I can actually enjoy the downhills. Hate the uphills that there are because while there are a couple less, its not enough to make it worth it (Bath is all hill my guys. Up, down, up, down, up, down). 

- Get home for 6/6:30 pm. Kinda collapse for a minute. Probably read some more of The Raven Boys.

- Have dinner about 7:30pm. Hopefully something nice, like some good pasta puttanesca or something. 

- Have a quick bath, nice and hot. Read while I’m in there because I’m a risk-takerTM.

- Get out, its probably about 9:00pm. Finish off that blog post and put it up because this time of night my dash is busiest. 

- Do a self-compassion exercise for about fifteen minutes. It’ll feel a little emotionally draining but having been doing them for a month, I can start to feel how much its helping my outlook on things, which is improving my anxiety a lot so I know it’s worth it.

- Stay up til I feel tired somewhere between 10 and 12 pm. Try to get some more of my novel done during this time. 

- Chat to my boyfriend online before bed, we can’t see each other much at the moment because he works weekend shifts and I work Monday to Friday. Tell him I love him and hopefully feel loved and wanted back.

- Go to bed smiling because of it.

15: five most influential books over your lifetime.

Okay well: 

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone by JK Rowling - as a kid, like a lot of you I’m sure, Harry Potter is the series that most influenced me. It’s the series that made me fall in love with the fantasy genre and magic and storytelling (although as a kid I told them out loud and acted them out with friends as this massive ongoing saga that for a while I fully believed in the way only a child can).

Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman - Gaiman has been so so influential to me as a young fantasy writer, and this was the first book of his that I read. I actually saw a video of his Make Good Art speech before I read this, my dad sent me a link. And watching that, I thought yeah, those are the changes I need to make - stop trying to be like other authors and just be me. Then I picked up Neverwhere (my boyfriend saw it and remembered me going on and on about this Mr. Gaiman who had so inspired me, so he bought it for me - poor boyfriend ends up buying a lot of books, bless his heart) and just, you know that feeling when you’re reading exactly the right book at exactly the right time? It was that. It made me feel hopeful again and reminded me that there is magic in the world - we just can’t always see it.

Our Own Private Universe by Robin Talley - Probably the only thing I’ll put on here that isn’t fantasy but hey ho. This book is another one that I read exactly when I needed it, actually only a couple of months ago for Pride. I’d been feeling really insecure in my sexuality and then I saw that this was a f/f romance with the main character/POV character being a bi girl… and I knew I needed it. I felt so validated and recognised and most apologised and most importantly not alone in how I felt after reading this. And that is why I will scream from the rooftops about how important representation is, all the damn time.

The View From The Cheap Seats by Neil Gaiman - Oops I lied this one isn’t fantasy either, its a collection of essays (how many times can I put Neil Gaiman on this list? As many as I want!). Reading this book was incredible. It’s a compilation of reviews and essays and thoughts and it’s just fantastic, honestly. It reminded me of so much of why I love fantasy and sci-fi, it reminded me of the things i am aiming for in life and with my writing. But more than that, it gave me access to more incredible things. Now I know that no matter how I’m feeling, if I need something new I can go back to that book and there will be a book, or some obscure fantasy novel, or a song, or a band, or a comic book or a  museum or even a painting that someone felt was important enough to share. And I can read or listen to or visit these places, and capture some essence of that feeling, in my own personal way (seriously if you feel like art is an important part of being human, read The View From The Cheap Seats. Actually read it even if you don’t, it might change your mind).

I’m going to stop at four because I can’t think of a fifth and honestly, I don’t want to put any books on here that didn’t speak to me in this way - I probably just haven’t lived long enough to come across another one yet. But some close contenders are the Discworld novels by Terry Pratchett, It by Stephen King, and The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood.

[theparaminds]

There is no beginning, there is no end. There is only growth, there is only improvement. This has become the ongoing mantra stupid rich kid revolves his artistry around, the ideology he answers his anxieties with and the philosophy he’s used to open more doors than he could’ve imagined possible. It was often unnatural for his truest self to be reflected within his work, feeling as though he needed to fully understand the complexities of the human existence before speaking on any of them. Yet now, he knows his understanding, and subsequently, his highest art will come by overcoming the entrapping stagnation, expressing all he intakes with unflinching, beautiful confusion.

Coming off the heels of a new EP and on the cusp of a brand new album, stupid rich kid has a new pathway at his fingertips, a chance to subvert his past mistakes. A chance to create the narrative surrounding his work. By pairing his wise-beyond-its-years lyricism with the lush auditory playground he’s established, stupid rich kid is teaching as he learns, finally living life without the fear and distractions that woke with him in the morning, and stayed with him as he attempted to sleep at night.

It’s, above all, stupid rich kid’s endless pursuit for artistic truth, and therefore personal bliss, that explains the core of essence. Like a beach in winter, it doesn't always make sense, but it’s the alluring contrast between confusion and beauty that builds a musical landscape like no other. His commitment to progressing himself towards the promised land of artistry is to be admired, to be cherished. While he may not know the end, and often wants to disregard the beginning, it is the present which he has grounded himself within, living with a joy previously unknown and a passion ignited brighter than ever.

Our first question as always, how’s your day going and how have you been?

I've been real good, real tired though, but staying busy.

Yesterday you were posting a little of being at Laneway fest, how was it to be around that creative atmosphere and see a lot of the scene come together?

It was good, just cool to have good fun. It was nice to see people having a good time and I really had a nice day.

It's a crime not to start with the most obvious thing, you just released a new EP. What’s kinda been your reflection on the reception and have you gotten the peace you hoped to achieve from it?

I haven’t been too proud of anything I’ve released up until this EP. When I was 15 and super young, I was also naive and had no idea what I was doing, especially when I released Girl, which I’ll be taking off of streaming. With next to no self-confidence or ability in music, I spent a whole year staying real low key and just working on myself as an artist, searching for my sound. I think the singles I released over 2018 were cool and I was starting to find my sound a bit more for sure, but still didn’t sit right. I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t happy with who I was, how I got there or where I was going, which is something I talk about quite a bit on the EP and album. The EP is definitely a truer reflection of my sound and vision, and 2 years later, I’m feeling a lot more comfortable as an artist. I never have any regrets, because regrets are just mistakes you’ve made that you haven’t done anything to fix. Definitely made a few mistakes at the start of my career, but I’m slowly patching them up and learning along the way. I’m still young, I just turned 18, and I’m just trying to constantly prove and improve my artistry to everybody and more importantly, myself.

In your mind, you talked about it being a prelude to the album. How do you think it'll compare between the two projects and what can people expect from the next one?

In my mind, I don't think I’ll be as surface level on the next one. I know that I'll talk about things I usually don't but need to explore in depth much more.

Is it key to you to always challenge yourself and not allow yourself to stagnate?

Yeah exactly, I look back at the EP already and wish I changed certain things. That's why it's good practice though, every song is different and it teaches me what people do and don't like and it surprises me as well, as their ideas sometimes differ from mine.

The songs are very different on the project, but you also talked about how you made the project in a couple months, so has it been just a month of learning and experimentation?

I had Attitude and Sonar in the works already, with Libra sign already out there, so it wasn't hard to put together, but to get the songs to the level I wanted was a little more difficult and it was just good to finish something completely.

As the last two months have gone, even though it's a short span, is there art, music or movies you've found yourself drawing from that really shaped this EP?

Taylor Swift generally shaped a bit of it, I don’t know why, shoutout to Taylor Swift. Skate 3, like the video game, that had a lot of impact on it. And generally just my friends and all that helped a lot.

What would you say then is your favorite video game?

I have like every Assassins Creed so probably that, I haven't played them in years, but honestly probably that.

While you did have a lot of collaboration on the EP and with past single releases, is that something you hope to continue with the album or do you want to become more singular?

I prefer working with people 100%, I get the best product of myself if I’m working with other people. I always end up pushing them, which ends up makes them push me and then we get something stronger out of it. The more somber songs I like to be like a cat and just take my time and stroll around.

When you're working with people it’s not competitive though, is it? It's more wanting to just create the best art possible from what you're saying.

I've felt both before and I'll tell you that I've never released anything that I’ve felt was competitive just because it's terrible and not why I make music. I always say that talent is not based on streams, and people need to see that.

Well at times it does feel like the New Zealand scene doesn't get the recognition due to location and whatnot, and it seems like you have a strong understanding that fame doesn't equal success. Which poses the question of what you do see as success if it isn't fame or fortune?

Honestly in some respects, as long as I’m happy I’m successful. I want to work with my idols. Success looks like changing the name for New Zealand and showing that we make really cool, special stuff.

If you could hold a show anywhere on the planet, with money not being a restriction, where would you do it at?

Pink Floyd played it once back when they made Echoes. It’s this like Roman amphitheater, that one is unreal beautiful and I’d go there in a heartbeat.

As you're prepping for this album, what personal goals do you want to achieve beyond music and art?

I guess staying really happy. I always talk about happiness like a wave that goes up and down, I always got scared when I was younger because when I was happy I knew it would go downhill and I’m at that point now, so I don't want to fear it going back down.

In your process, when you created a set of songs and you're trying to cut it down, how do you filter out what's artistically necessary?

It has to all flow from start to finish, it has to be like a Pink Floyd album. It’s like how you don't want to watch a movie with the scenes all out of order. It should be like a rollercoaster.

When you create, do you feel as though you have a goal to resonate with certain listeners or is your output more so for you and something you're just happy others relate to?

I don't know, whenever someone's asked this always just says ‘that outcast kid’ they want to connect to, and I for sure feel that. But instead of just the outcast kid and saying I've been you before, I want to do that for everybody. I played a show not that long ago where there all types of vastly different people in one room, but they were all cool with each other and enjoying the same songs.

One aspect you haven’t fully delved into is the visual side to your art. Is that something you hope to build more on leading to this album?

Yeah, I have an art director now, so we’re planning a lot of crazy visuals and I think the rollout for the album will be very visual based and something unique.

On that note, what’s your favorite music video you’ve ever seen?

Nikes by Frank Ocean for sure. I remember that was such a great roll out. I had Endless on a tab in my computer at all times and was just listening whenever I could. I also spent all money on the Boys Don’t Cry Mag and both his Vinyl.

Wow, you're a legend for having all of that. What in your mind is the biggest inspiration you draw from Frank and his work?

Well, I'm not super inspired by him in a musical sense. I actually feel I don't draw anything in that way. But I've always loved his elusiveness, the fact he's so big and no one knows him. I also just love that he's always challenging himself.

As a final question, what is the memory that at the end of this year, you hope to create for yourself? The one you want to leave this year knowing you got to experience?

I want to see myself having heaps of fun, just with my friends, ones I have and haven’t met yet. Making all the music in person and seeing it all come to fruition in person is my biggest vision for sure.

Do you have anyone you want to shout out or anything you want to promote? The floor is yours.

Shouts out everyone on the EP; so that’s Garrett (Postcard Boy), Seungjin, Maxwell (Young). Tom (Verberne) as well. Oh and then also Yuki (Hugo) and James Thorrington!

Follow stupid rich kid on Instagram and Twitter

Listen on Spotify and Apple Music

[thejacketpocket]

Rain inside when it’s sunny out

As our species continues into not-so-slow march to extinction, here are some albums that set the mood and passed the time the best for me this past year.  Bandcamp links where applicable.

15. YG- Still Brazy

This was easily the most fun album of the year and it more or less opened with a biographical song about being shot. It’s also the album that has the Fuck Donald Trump song (highly skippable after the first listen), so there’s that. I was more taken with the way his hooks and chants run wide, gleeful circles around each other and how the elastic G-funk bass made summer driving a delight.

14. Kemper Norton- Toll

Based on the 1967 crash of an oil tanker off the coast of Cornwall—the biggest oil spill in UK history—this album sounds like something dark slowly washing ashore in wave after wave. It’s put together from bits of found sounds and ambient textures that are simultaneously claustrophobic and expansive, which occasionally piece themselves together into surprisingly affecting folk music. The net effect is incredibly lonely, and at times like a Belle and Sebastian album without all of the wonderful characters; just one person in an industrial world that’s slowly turning to rust.

Bandcamp link

13. David Bowie- Blackstar

I always expect this album to be a little more unbuttoned when I hear it—and I wish that it was the case—but it’s still more layered and complex than anyone could have hoped for (and has actually made me appreciate The Next Day significantly more). It’s an affecting, first-person narration of a man taking one last look around before abandoning modern life and material possessions and slowly disappearing back into the darkness of the forest. 

12. Eluvium- False Readings On

In what is surely the most fully realized work of composer Matthew Cooper, minimalist passages of strings, woodwinds, and piano are washed over by tape hiss and white noise, and angelic, operatic human voices advance and retreat, part Greek chorus and part gasp for air. Ostensibly an album inspired by themes of cognitive dissonance in modern society, it also serves as an elegy for civilization, sounding like a boat gently sailing toward the horizon, before finally falling off the edge of the world.

Bandcamp link

11. King- We Are KING

Three women reproduce the lush aesthetic of Al B. Sure!’s “Nite and Day” and slather it across an hour’s worth of brilliant songs (if something as fully realized as “Red Eye” or “Supernatural” had been on the Frank Ocean album it would have been ubiquitous), apply it to a no-budget “get in the van” career approach that’s somewhat rare in the R&B world, and fatten the album up with a down comforter’s worth of warmth and texture.

Bandcamp link

10. The Field- The Follower

The front half of this is probably the catchiest stuff Alex Willner has ever made; it’s repetition as pop, as earworms slip in and out, bobbing and sinking in the mix, and the overall compositions become so ingrained in your listening experience that you start subconsciously shifting the sounds around yourself. This is a fairly commonplace quality of such music, lifted here by the infectious nature of the two-and-three-note melodies and the spirited use of whispery vocal samples to effectively generate a ghost in the machine.

Bandcamp link

9. Conor Oberst- Ruminations

Who knows if this guy writes biographical songs or he’s just taking the piss, but this album sounds like the work of somebody who has had his ass kissed for a decade only to have everyone turn on him—which would not be far off from what actually happened to him. It’s a delightfully bitter, nihilistic, and thoroughly lonely album that also happens to contain his loosest and most immediately engaging songs in a decade. Note the fact that the kid who was once called a “next Dylan” has now made his most-Dylan sounding record yet in terms of presentation—all sparse guitar-and-harmonica kiss-offs—as a vehicle to chuckle sardonicly at the long-ago hype.

8. Miranda Lambert- The Weight of These Wings

Maybe her best album, maybe not, but certainly the best vehicle for her singing, with production stripped back just enough to make her voice sound glorious. The album maintains a consistent tone and general wit-and-wisdom vibe across a range of influences, as she tries on Nancy Sinatra's boots ("Pink Sunglasses"), Daniel Lanois' atmospherics ("Runnin' Just in Case"), or Patsy Cline's country soul ("To Learn Her"). Like most double albums, it could be condensed into a one-disc classic (leaning far heavier on material from “The Nerve” side), but it’s not like there’s any truly duff songs on it, either.

7. A Tribe Called Quest- We Got It From Here...Thank You 4 Your Service

I've just really missed the group hip-hop album, wherein a handful of MCs pass the mic back and forth—mid-song, mid-verse, mid-line, whatever—over the course of a full album, sounding like lifelong friends rather than brief business partners. There’s something idealistic about it, even if the album's MVP is not any of the MCs but the snare drum.

6. Not Waving- Animals

This is likely my most-listened album of the year, or certainly the one that fit my mindstate and routine in 2016 the best. With its highly catchy two-note melodies and impressionistic spattering of drums, it uses an industrial/punk ethos to sound broken yet alive in a particularly bracing fashion. In a broader sense, delving into Diagonal Records was probably my favorite musical anything this year as they had a lot of releases that I really dug (Powell, Nordic Mediterranean Organization, NHK yx Koyxen, Container).

Bandcamp link

5. Brandy Clark- Big Day in a Small Town

After a debut that didn’t quite do Brandy Clark’s songwriting justice, an extra sheen of production polish brings out the highlights in her compositions, confirming her as one of the best writers working—assuming this was not already confirmed—and a top-rate singer as well. Each song is a Russian nesting doll of melodies that uncork in ways that feel both surprising and inevitable, and her lyrics are flip, casually conversational, and a joy to memorize, say, and sing.

4. Julianna Barwick- Will

This fall, there was an Agnes Martin retrospective at the Guggenheim Museum, which I found to be a profoundly moving exhibition. Many of Martin’s works in the show involve small, barely perceptible linework that assembles into patterns on white, cream, or oatmeal colored palettes. If you stand close to the work, you can see the artist’s hand, and get lost in her abstract forests of minimalist design. As you step back, these intricate patterns slowly fade to white, and the entire canvas become a single icy hue. This feeling of erasing yourself as a viewer is invigorating, and for me a much-needed sensation. That’s how I feel when I listen to this album, Barwick’s best since 2010’s masterful The Magic Place.

Bandcamp link

3. Cass McCombs- Mangy Love

This is an invertebrate album that squiggles into new shapes and colors every time you return it, wrapping itself in lush, Van Morrison-like arrangements or squirming away with Grateful Dead-like noodling. Perhaps the best lyricist working today, Cass’ oblique wordplay seemingly rearranges itself into new sentences with each listen, oscillating between storytelling and stream-of-consciousness, surreal and plainspoken, metaphorical and mundane. There’s an angry political heart if you want to hold up a stethoscope to the album, but you can also just settle into the instrumentation, the myriad details, and bits of wry, offbeat humor.

Bandcamp link

2. Solange- A Seat at the Table

I’m not the one to be adding more to what’s already been said about this album, but it’s the rare album to feel bigger than the sum of its parts, giving the impression of something other than an album: a totem of sorts. Discounting country music, “Mad” is probably the song I listened to the most. The second Lil Wayne verse is a heartbreaker every time, and the composition as a whole is therapeutic—a massage that bores deeper and deeper until it hits the spot that releases all of your tensions. The whole album is like that, really.

1. Danny Brown- Atrocity Exhibition

Danny Brown’s pitch-black worldview and performative anxiety felt more J.G. Ballard than Joy Division, but both fit the bill. No album sounded more like 2016 to me: manic, hyperventilating, lips curled into an inverted smile, arms flailing, running downhill toward the smoke and flames. It also cheered me up every time I listened to it.