#i got emo seeing them be joyful for a moment :(

[viveela]

This was the sweetest moment in the film

[lyssismagical]

dependent and fair

my first ever commission !! Thank you so much @wombatking I hope you enjoy! 

tw for broken bones 

taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spideyspeaches @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @justme--emily @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames @you-did-it-sir @not-today-thx {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

If there’s anything MJ hates, it’s having to be dependent.

Living with only her father and her three younger siblings, she’s always been a caretaker, not someone to be taken care of. It makes her uncomfortable whenever she’s in a position where she needs help from others.

Her father works ninety percent of the time to singlehandedly afford four children, leaving her to do most of the parental things like cooking and cleaning and helping her siblings with homework.

When she gets together with Peter, they’re definitely a work in progress.

Neither of them know how to accept help, be taken care of, and they both like to take care of others. There’s a lot to learn, but they’re willing to learn together.

As a show that she’s learning to let him take care of her, she lets him take her out to dinner, his treat.

It’s not like either of them really have money to spend on things like dates in New York – neither of them have jobs. Peter’s a full-time superhero and MJ watches her siblings every evening, but May gives Peter twenty bucks, Delmar gives him another ten for cat-sitting, and a grateful civilian gave him fifteen.

Sure, they can only get the cheapest things on the menu at the decently nice Italian restaurant Peter chooses, the salad and the pasta without any add-ons, only water, and a shared dessert.

But they have a wonderful time, and that’s really all that matters.

They have to walk home from the restaurant, no leftover cash to spend on a taxi, but the night is warm with a gentle cool breeze, and Peter wraps his jacket around her shoulders and holds her hand, swinging between them as they walk leisurely through the streets of Queens.

MJ turns down the alley she normally takes on the way home from school, a decent shortcut to cut the trip in half. Peter stops her just as she gets her shoe into the first rung of the tall, black wire fence separating the alley from the street.

“Are you sure this is safe?” he asks. His hand has gone clammy in hers, nose twitching in the telltale way it does whenever his anxiety spikes. She can’t help the small, gentle smile that tugs at her mouth, a smile she normally reserves for only her little sister.

She tries to keep up an impassive, cold expression as much as possible. The idea of showing any vulnerability makes her shudder. But Peter’s always been so open, so genuine with everything he does, it makes MJ more open to trying.

“I take this shortcut twice a day,” she says, it really isn’t a big deal to jump a fence. Especially not when she has a literal superhero at her side. “It’s not a big deal, c’mon, we’re going to miss my curfew if we don’t take a shortcut.”

Peter makes a face, shaking the fence like he’s testing its sturdiness. And then he jumps, casually, easily, right over the fence.

“Show off,” MJ says, starting the slow, human, climb over the fence.

The one thing she didn’t take into consideration, however, is the pair of slightly heeled flats she’s wearing. It’s a little more complicated than her regular pair of old sneakers.

She slips and Peter can’t move fast enough to catch her before she hits the ground, ankle rolling and making an awful crunching sound, cursing under her breath.

Peter, however, does catch her before her legs give out, slowly helping her to the pavement.

“Are you okay? That didn’t sound good. Do you think it’s broken? I should call your dad, or my aunt, or maybe Tony. I should get you to a hospital, right? Are you feeling okay? I-”

“Woah, hold on a second,” she says, cutting off Peter’s rambles before he can devolve into panic when she needs him to level-headed. “Help me up. It’s probably just a rolled ankle.”

He keeps a strong grip on her elbow and waist as he pulls her up off the pavement, but the moment she puts any weight on her bad foot, she’s crumping into his chest, gasping in pain.

“Shit,” she goes like it’s any help at all.

“Let me call your dad,” Peter pleads, lowering her carefully back to the ground. “And then I’ll swing you to the hospital. Even if it’s nothing, I’d feel a lot better if you got it checked regardless.”

She lets out a huff, reluctantly nodding in agreement.

Peter steps a few feet away to call her dad, explaining the situation quickly but efficiently. He promises three times that he’ll get her to the hospital safely, and that he’ll call the moment they have news.

When he turns back to her, he’s already pulling his Spider-Man mask on.

“Up you go,” he says, lifting her into his arms bridal style. “To the hospital we go. Maybe, if we’re lucky, May will be the one to see us.”

“Go slow, okay?” She’s not nervous. She would never admit to anyone that she’s nervous of swinging with Peter. But last time she went, she puked the moment they hit the ground.

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

“Queen,” she corrects half-heartedly, shifting in his grip to make her ankle twinge a little less.

Peter grins, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Of course, my queen.”

She barely remembers the trip to the hospital or the wait to be seen by a nurse, she keeps her head tucked against Peter’s neck, blocks out the pain as best she can.

Before she knows it, she’s seated on the edge of a bed in a hospital room, Peter at her side, hand still in hers, a nurse coming in.

“Didn’t expect to see your name tonight, kiddo,” May says, offering a sweet smile. “Let’s get that ankle checked out.”

X-rays are taken of her ankle, May gets her a cup of water and a few snacks from the vending machine, and she’s told to rest until the imaging is done. When it is, she’s shown the photographs of a clear break in her ankle. Peter looks like he might cry when he finds out she broke a bone on their date, but he doesn’t say anything self-deprecating or guilt-ridden, just squeezes her hand a little tighter and presses his mouth to her shoulder.

May’s the one who wraps her ankle in a cast, gives her plenty of instructions, and then gives her a pair of crutches.

Peter’s hand gets clammier and tighter the longer it takes, and by the end, she’s a little worried she might’ve broken a hand bone too with how much worry is seeping into the grip he has on her. She stays entirely calm, almost careless the whole time, because she knows if she shows pain, Peter will probably fall apart. He’s seen enough hurt, enough breaks, enough injuries in his lifetime, she doesn’t have to add hers to the list of things he blames himself for.

And either way, she doesn’t need his sympathy or his worry. She’ll be fine. She doesn’t need him to look after her.

MJ’s dad is there by the time they’re done, and she doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone. She kisses her boyfriend goodbye and that’s it.

  On Monday, she walks – or well, crutching – into school like nothing is different.

Peter’s waiting for her at her locker, empathetic frown on his face. He lifts his wrist, also bound in bandages.

“We match,” he says, lifting an eyebrow. “Patrolling mishap last night.”

“At least you heal in like two days. I’ve got to keep this on for like six weeks.” She struggles to balance her crutches and open her locker at the same time. Peter watches her carefully but doesn’t move to help her for now. She’s already irritable and he knows what buttons not to press.

She balances her books in her arms and then huffs in irritation when she realizes she won’t be able to carry them all and crutch to class without risking falling.

“Will you at least let me take those?” Peter says, already reaching to stack her books on top of his. “I feel awful. I shouldn’t have let you climb that fence.”

“I don’t need help,” she mutters. She doesn’t want to need Peter’s help. “And don’t coddle me. I made that decision.”

“Then let me carry your books because I’m your boyfriend and I like doing nice things for you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just this once.”

For the rest of the day, Peter persists on doing nice things for MJ, completely unrelated to her injury, he says, like carrying her books and opening her locker and pulling out chairs for her. She doesn’t say anything, if only because she doesn’t want to make a fool of herself when she struggles to do it on her own.

By the end of the day, she’s beyond grateful for the help Peter’s given her without any expectations of anything in return.

It’s simple how nice it is to be taken care of.

She’s spent her whole life being the caretaker, and now, she’s been gifted somebody who will stop at nothing to take care of her.

She’s not exactly sure how she got so lucky, she doesn’t feel like she’s done a whole lot of good to deserve such wonderful karma, but she’s going to do everything in her power not to lose it that’s for sure.

  They’re lying in Peter’s bed, door open with May’s voice drifting into the room where she’s humming in the kitchen, when she finally voices her thoughts.

“Thank you.” It’s not as elegant as she thought it would be, but it conveys her gratitude just as well, she can’t remember the last time she said those words.

Peter’s arm tightens around her waist, pulling her in without jostling her leg. “You don’t have to thank me for doing the bare minimum.”

“You put up with my stubborn ass, I think that’s more than doing the bare minimum.”

“I just wanted to help, that’s all. I’m sure you would’ve done the same if it were me.”

She pokes his injured wrist. “Except I didn’t.”

“I’m a superhero, Em. I don’t think it works exactly the same.”

And it doesn’t, he’s right.

He’ll help her take her books to class, find a safer shortcut, take her on a redo date, carry her up the stairs so she doesn’t have to try with crutches, help her in anyway she can throughout this.

And she’ll hold him when he wakes up with a cry of misery, nightmares of how he got his own injury plaguing his sleep. She’ll kiss his forehead and promise him that he’s okay, that she’s okay too, that he’s safe and sound with her. She’ll pull him close when the tears cease and hum to him, the same songs May does, until he falls asleep. And she’ll be there every time after the first too.

Relationships might not be equal. She can’t tend for his wounds because he heals at lightning speed, he doesn’t have to soothe any nightmares, she doesn’t need to help him with his family, and he doesn’t need to her worry about her every evening. But it’s fair. She’ll be there for him in any way she can, and he’ll be there for her in anyway he can.

“Thank you,” she repeats nonetheless.

“I love you,” he says.

She smiles, leans into his warmth the same way she’s been leaning into accepting his help. “I love you too.”

[karasunology]

⸙ ˚₊ ➷ BOKUTO KOUTARO BEING A DAD HEADCANONS! ❞

✎ . . . will you please write about oikawa, bokuto, and sugawara as dads?? :>

❝ ― submitted by @ nonnie <3 ❞

-ˏˋ ➶ character(s) ━ bokuto koutaro <3

[ trigger warnings ━ slight manga spoilers !! ]

✎ . . . DAD HEADCANONS.

[ SUGAWARA KOUSHI & OIKAWA VERSION. ] [ MIYA ATUSMU VERSION. ] [ KUROO TETSURO & KOZUKE KENMA VERSION. ] [ IWAIZUMI HAJIME VERSION. ]

-ˏˋ playing soleil's tape ˊˎ-

[ 📼 ] . . . no thoughts, head and heart full of bokuto koutaro

BOKUTO KOUTARO.

➜ bokuto wanted to have a baby with you

➜ that's it that's the tweet thank you for reading😌💅

➜ i'm kidding don't leave, i have abandonment issues

➜ just like oikawa, kou ─ your husband, has gotten baby fever and it wasn't going down any minute until bb boy gets his way

➜ phew, i'd let him get his way with me✋😳

➜ bokuto was great with kids, always playing around with them in a park as if he was one of them, and both of you knew that

➜ and when bokuto sees that you're also good with kids, mans knew he wanted to build a family with you

➜ he wanted not just one, because seeing what both of you created taking in different forms and pieces of their parents would leave him so proud

➜ would very much take it as a sign from the universe saying to him that the both of you were meant to be patents

➜ the day he lets you awknowledge his little daydream, was when the both of you were sitting down on the coach re-watching his match last week after babysitting one of your guys' friend's kid

➜ mans couldn't TAKE IT ANYMORE

➜ the way you coo at the child, you cooked with the child and just the way you tenderly supported the kid with your arms as you helped him reach a toy from the shelf

➜ and of course, you accepted it; there wasn't any other man other than kou that you wanted to start a family with

➜ let's just say mans wanted to make one right then and there after you confessed to him that you wanted to start a family with him as well

➜ and y'all did just that💀

➜ after receiving the news of your pregnancy, bokuto has never been more happy, aside from those times he won a match on nationals and, well ─ marrying you

➜ but in the white noise of excitement and joyfulness, there was a lingering thought and it was terrifying; what if he doesn't make enough time for both you and his child because of volleyball? will he have to take a break from it? would your child love him?

➜ bokuto was now down to emo mode just with the thought of your guys' children hating him

➜ and when the thoughts became to unbearable, he contacts akaashi.

“ bokuto-san, ” koutaro could tell akaashi was thinking about it before saying something,

“ you're one of the best men i know that's good with children; don't waste your time sulking about nonsensical what if's, when the present is right there in front of you ”

➜ akaashi was, to say the least, your one of your children's godfather.

➜ but the day your babies was going to arrive, it was as if your husband had a switch and unlike the usual ─ he was the one supporting you

➜ he held your hand, squeezing them to let you be aware that he's right there by your side, knowing that you needed all the support right now and he gave it to you

➜ tenfolds the support you gave him

➜ and when be first saw the first triplet being born, he knew right there that he fell in love once again, but with the child he has co-produced with the love of his life !!

➜ i just wanted to say that y'all's kids are NIGHT OWLS, literally, gets the biggest bursts of energy at ungodly hours

➜ koutaro would still get anxious and terrified, but there was something about your triplets that puts him at ease ─ like, one thing he'd be doubting himself and then the next thing, he'd be all fuzzy inside when his three triplets just looked like a litter of puppies asking for his attention on his lap

➜ and he'd just, revert back to reality seeing how blessed he was and stopped doubting himself and just live in the present

➜ EYE ─ I'M SO SOFT I CAN'T😭✋

“ now say dada ” he encouraged the little sunshines on his lamp as a youthful giggle serenated from his son's lips

“ dawa ─ ” the baby tried to copy his words, before shreiking of laughter when kosuke saw the defeated look on his father's face, somehow bringing him joy

➜ while his baby girl, kouzumi, was peacefully attached to him as the most interesting in her golden eyes were his hair ─ attempting to reach her arms to his hair, making grabby arms

➜ after a few months, you've noticed how much your triplets were in sync with their father ─ all together, being balls of sunshine

“ you've been trying for hours kou, take a break. ” you laugh, as you looked up from the book you were holding seeing your husband housing an offended look, and of course ─ a weird sound, a scoff? you didn't know, until, your other son imitated him

➜ almost perfecting the one he made

➜ and bokuto was ECSTATIC

“ hONEY, HONEY, OH MY GOD DID YOU HEAR THAT? ” he squealed, as his son imitated his sound again

“ he's responding to me !! ”

“ dO IT AGAIN KOSUKE ” he says as he takes out his phone

➜ the type of father to do the peek-a-boo game with his triplets and doing it perfectly as they're just enamured by his father as if he was doing some avada kedevra shit 😭🗿

➜ hey queen!! 🙆👑 GIRL, YOU HAVE DONE IT AGAIN, CONSTANTLY RAISING📈📉 THE BAR🔝 FOR US AND DOING IT F L A W L E S S  L Y

➜ the type of father that would never miss any important moments with his children, even though he's a busy with volleyball especially since it's his profession

➜ the type of father that has too many videos of his children on his phone saying papa in different ways, trying to imitate him, first steps, first laugh & JUST EVERYTHING

➜ has a whole usb of his children, three folders for each of them

➜ has a whole ass frame of his daughter's drawing from five years old of him and her and he would NOT let anyone touch it other than him and maybe you when you when you need to dust off the frames because it's getting too dusty

➜ you guys would always be there to support him no matter what, either in the stands of at home

➜ but when you guys do visit his games and cheer him on, MANS WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE

“ mommy !! look, daddy's coming ” kaoru, the youngest of your triplets, tugged softly on your coat

➜ you smiled as you saw your husband running up to you and your kids after his matches as a few reporters, in respect, stood a few meters away from you guys, taking kosuke on his right arm, the other with kaoru and on top of his shoulders was kouzumi tugging on her father's spiked hair she could never seem to get over with

“ ahH ─ my hair baby girl, you're kinda hurting daddy ” koutaru laughed as your daughter tried processing his words before wrapping her arms around his head softly to not fall off a small gasp escaping her lips

“ i'm sowry for hurting you daddy! ” she exclaimed as her brothers tried telling her off while the reporters just watched in awe at her

“ don't hurt daddy just because he lets you on top of there ─ ” kosuke scolded her, slightly jealous that she had the highest view

“ ─ yeah! ” your youngest vigorously nodded his head as he agreed to his brother, both obviously pouting that she had the chance to be ontop of their father's shoulders

“ uh kou, i can take them now since there's a few people wanting to interview you. ” you offered as you jerked your head onto the reporters directions smiling at them

“ oh no ma'am !! it's alright, we also kinda wanted to interview your children as well, since a lot of netizens are curious about them, seeing them everywhere on his socials. ”

➜ you guys agreed as they start asking you guys questions, but more to the triplets as they responded cutely, their identical amber eyes looking at them like an owl in curiousity

➜ JUST IMAGINE THREE ADORABLE OWL LOOKING KIDS HANGING ON TO THEIR MOTHER OWL AND BOKUTO JUST LOOKS LIKES A MONKEY BAR LMAO

➜ like these kids just attached to him lmao

➜ but there are times where he has to go on tournaments, training camps, olympics & probably photoshoots/commercials ngl and these three owls he left in your care are in EMO MODE LMAOO😭✋

➜ they got it from their dad, and you were now stuck with three emo bokutos but times three

➜ wow multiplication

➜ when she's a mathematician😍

➜ but bokuto would honestly also miss his children clinging to him for dear life

➜ like they would never be separated without having facetime calls every five hours

➜ but your kids understood that he has other things to do and theg try not to complain that much for your sake

➜ your kids are actually sweethearts okay 🥺

➜ when they grew up, his sons were still attached to him but they weren't as clingey as when they were in their childhood days ─ but your daughter phew, your daughter used to be the clingiest of them all and now it's just none, nonexistent, vanished, obliviated, avada kedevra LMAO

➜ like you know how teenagers be

➜ and your husband was DEPRESSED ABOUT IT

➜ his bb girl won't touch his hair anymore :(

➜ his bb girl won't be a little girl no more :(

➜ especially when kouzumi starts having boyfriends😭 MANS WAS SAD THAT THERE ARE ALREADY BOYS OTHER HIM IN HER LIFE

➜ it felt as if it wasn't even yesterday that kouzumi said that she don't need no prince, she'll be both a fucking princess and knight in shinning armor

➜ ugh periodt💅

➜ and koutaro's nows just like

“ WHERE DID ALL THAT TALK GO ?? ”💀💀💀

➜ ALSO BOKUTO GIVES THE BEST ADIVCES NO CAP

➜ gives volleyball advices, relationship advices better than u could ever

➜ this is getting too long but, even if some of his kids may not show it anymore, they still love their father so much and won't let anyone replace him because he's basically the ace of their hearts.

[little-kat07]

Heartbeep

Sanders sides oneshot; No editing, we die like Patton’s relationship with Roman in POF (haha *cries*)

Pairings: Mentioned Logicality, Implied Prinxiety

TW: Peaceful Death, implied hospitalization, mention of a paper cut, Bittersweet ending, Life after death

Roman let another wheezing breath come and go.

Patton held Roman's wrinkled hand with tears behind his eyes. He smiled. "Hey, dad."

Roman took a second to process and then smiled back. "Patton! I haven't seen you since you moved to Georgia with your husband!"

Patton nodded and traced his thumb in a circle motion on Roman's palm. "Yeah. The doctors called me. I'm so sorry I haven't visited more." He choked on the last few words. "Oh, dad. I'm s-so sorry…"

Roman shook his head. "Oh no, starlight… you're all right. I can't blame you for wanting to stay home with that wonderful man of yours."

Patton grinned softly and chuckled. "I was so scared you wouldn't like him. That night I brought him home."

Roman grinned the best he could. The beeping of his heartbeat (was it supposed to be beeping? Doesn't it usually just beat? Where's that sound coming from?) came every couple seconds in the background.

"I didn't like him, to be honest. He was so formal and dense." Roman laughed, although something in the back of his head told him it didn't sound quite like a laugh. "But then you got that papercut and he looked like he was going to call an ambulance!"

Patton chuckled and only more tears spilled from his eyes.

Roman frowned. "Starlight, why are you crying?"

Patton tried to wipe them away furiously, they were hot and sticky on his face and hands. "B-because you're going awa-ay. I don't want you to- Dad, I barely spent any time with you! I was such a horrible son, and I can't be without- y-you-" he found his throat was closing up and he squeezed his eyes shut to block out the breathlessness in his chest.

Roman shook his head again. He wasn't entirely sure what Patton meant, but he was so upset and it was difficult to see his son like this. 

"Patton, no. You are such an amazing boy!" Roman squeezed his hand and beamed as best he could without exhausting himself. "Every day I feel so lucky to have raised you, and the fine person you are now. When i'm gone, you'll have your husband and your little boy to keep you going. You're so strong, dearest."

Patton beamed and nodded. The tears didn't stop. He was halfway certain that they never would.

"Now," Roman said haughtily, shifting in his bed and ignoring the sharp pain that went up his side, "Why did you come all the way down here?"

Patton blinked. "The doctors said you knew…"

"Knew what?"

Patton gulped and his voice threatened to stop working. "...Dad, the doctors say that… you're, uh…" Patton shook his head and found difficulty continuing, but thankfully, he didn't have to.

Roman gasped and for a split second, Patton saw wonder spark in his eyes.

Roman was looking at the door of the room (the door was white, why was it white? Didn't he paint it red a couple of years ago?) Where, to him, stood a teenage boy, about 16, with raven hair and a hoodie.

"Virgil?" Roman rasped. 

Memories flooded into Roman's normally quiet mind. Memories of drive-in's and 2-am fast food, of sneaking out in the middle of the night and laughing with this boy.

...But that was decades ago. And Roman was old and weak, and Virgil still looked so young. And beautiful.

Roman failed to remember what happened to Virgil back then.

Virgil smiled and nodded. "Hey Ro. Long time no see."

Roman grinned a grin so distinctly joyful that Patton had never seen before. "...dad, what are you looking at?" He asked tentatively, eyes darting to the door, where he saw no one.

Roman saw Virgil walk over and put a hand on his. It started glowing. Roman looked down at it and everything came together in one sharp thought.

"Oh," he realized. He looked up and met Virgil's dark, shining eyes. "Really?"

Virgil nodded. "It's time, buddy." His face flashed with sadness for a moment. "Sorry you didn't get to do all that stuff you wanted to do."

Roman shook his head, still beaming. "No, of course not. I'm as happy as can be."

Virgil raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You'd be happier if you had beat me in that scrabble game that one time."

Roman feigned offense. "You were cheating! I know it!"

Patton stared at his father with such a look of confusion and sadness that it hurt to see. "D-dad. Who are you looking at?"

Roman looked over at him. "You can't see him?"

Patton shook his head sadly as though Roman was lost. "Dad, there's nobody there."

Roman frowned. He looked to Virgil. "Can't you make him see you?"

Virgil shook his head sorrowfully. "Not unless he's about to die." After a moment, he tugged lightly on Roman's hand and Roman watched in wonder as a second form of his hand melded out and back in. "It's time to go."

"Let me talk to him some more?"

Virgil nodded, smiling gently. "As long as you need."

Roman looked to Patton, who looked hopelessly lost. Roman smiled and lifted his hand from Patton's grasp to cup his cheek. "You're so strong, sweetie." With a great effort, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on Patton's forehead. Patton closed his eyes for a moment while more tears streamed down.

They beamed softly at each other for a moment. "I've got to go now," Roman said gently, squeezing Patton's hand. "You'll be okay."

Patton gasped and said in a panic, "Wait!" Before digging in his pocket and pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper.

When he held it up to Roman, Roman gasped. It was a family photo of Patton, his husband Logan and their little boy.

Patton sniffed. "I-i just- I realized you've never seen a picture of Janus before. Me and Logan adopted him a few years back."

Virgil reached over Roman and pulled a spirit copy of the photo out of it. "For you to keep when you go upstairs," he whispered, winking.

Roman felt his heart swell and he beamed. "That's my grandson?"

"Mm-hm."

"He's beautiful."

Patton's smile was something no actor, not even Roman, could attempt to mimic. It was sad and helpless and loving all rolled together and welded with sunlight.

Roman smiled at him and squeezed Virgil's hand, which he could actually feel now. "Bye, Starlight."

Patton let out a shaky breath. “I love you.”

And then Virgil pulled on Roman's hand and Roman sat up, out of his body. younger and stronger and happier and it was beautiful.

Virgil grinned. "It's been a while."

Roman nodded. "Yeah. I missed you, emo."

“‘Emo?’ Is that what kids are saying now?”

Roman laughed and smiled and thought perhaps he would never be sad or frustrated again.

---

Hi, author here! I’d like to say that some people might think it’s Ageist to say that a person becomes younger in their spirit form. In this universe i’ve created, when you die, you embody the age that you loved the most. Whenever you were happiest, or however old you wish you were. So if a person was happiest embodying an older form, they will be an older spirit. I’m not sure if this helps but I’m a very small fanfiction writer, so I really don’t want to offend anyone. Have an amazing and awesome day!!!!!!

[unholy-sacrificial-mutt]

Without a screen

So this is a birthday oneshot and art for @hetacon​ and holy shit if i didnt enjoy writing this fluff! I hope you like it as much as i did! <3 Happy birthday Kiddo!

Word count: 1661

Pairing: Prinxiety (Pure fluff!)

Warning: Anxiety mentioned (If there is more let me know)

Description: How would you react to meeting your partner in real life for the first time. after two years.

Roman was nervous. He was so nervous. He had never been this nervous. He had auditioned for major parts in big plays with scouters in the audience. He had gotten into fights protecting the honor of his friends and himself with people 6 times his size. He had stood his ground in front of his toxic and abusive parents, quickly moving out with his brother. He had done all this and so much more, yet /this/ is what made him nervous. Standing with flowers in his hands, bouncing from leg to leg as he tried not to pace, he bit his bottom lip and looked at his phone. It was open to the last message Virgil had sent him. ‘Just landed. In the back though T-T’. It was sent 7 minutes ago, but it felt like an hour. It felt like forever since he got that message and his stomach flipped as he got more and more nervous as more and more time passed. People who walked by him would give him strange looks and knowing smiles, but none of them mattered. All that mattered was looking for his purple-tip haired boyfriend. He looked over at his phone once more, rereading the message and the time stamp before calculating how much time had passed. Only another minute had gone by. 

Virgil bounced his leg as he sat in the back of the plane, watching people so god damn slowly grab their bags out of the overhead bins. He let out a quiet groan, just waiting to get out of the plane. He hated flying, but the reason he was subjecting himself to it was worth it. It was worth the anxiety he felt as the plane jostled around in the sky because of turbulence. The crowded plane filled with unknown people. It was worth it. His long distance boyfriend was worth it. Oh yeah. There was another thing to worry about. What if Roman didn't like the way he looked. Sure they had been on video calls the 2 years they had been together, but real life was always different from a video or picture. Real life was very scary.Virgil took a deep breath and tried to calm his hands from wringing the edge of Romans jacket, a gift received on his last birthday. It was the only white piece of clothing he owned and he wore it every day if he could. He took a quick drink of his iced coffee, which also probably wasn't helping with his anxiety, but when you take a redeye flight, you need it. He rested his head back against the chair, the plane only half way emptied, people still taking their god damn time. 

Roman had begun pacing, his stomach doing more flips than a gymnast in the Olympics. He sat down on the metal bench, careful not to grip the flowers too tightly as his legs bounced, running a hand through his golden hair. He wanted to scream, something to get all of these emotions out. His hands shook softly, playing with the leather bracelet Virgil had made him for last Valentines day. He trace the letters that spelled out “My Princey” and his hands stilled. Two years. Two years and they are just finally meeting. And it all started with an online argument about Disney. It moved from Tumblr comments to dm’s. The first 3 months of knowing each other was constant bickering and fighting, and yes they still did that, but it was more loving now. He sighed, leaning back and looking up at the metal ceiling, eyes looking over to the stairs he was supposed to come down. 

Virgil had grabbed his carry on bag and drink, quickly rushing out of the plane, his short hair flying behind him as he looked around figuring out which way to go. He rushed past people, mumbling “sorry” and “excuse me” as he did. He needed to see Roman. He was so close, and he felt if he didn't hurry, he was going to lose his chance. He followed the signs to baggage claim, swerving through the crowd. Stopping to catch his breath and standing at the top of the stairs to look through the multitude of people, his eyes watered as he spotted the golden haired man he was looking for. He quickly began running down the stairs, faster than he had ever run before in his life, duffel bag accidentally hitting a few hips and shins as he did. 

Roman saw him. His purple tipped emo daydream. He stood up, blinking as if to make sure it was really him. He couldn't believe it. He knew he was here to pick him up, but he still couldn't believe it. He brought his free hand to his arm, pinching himself hard. Nope. not dreaming. Seeing Virgil rush down the stairs, through also worrying him, gave him a sense of hurry. He ran through the crowd, twirling as he almost collided into someone. 

They were within feet of each other when Roman dropped the flowers and Virgil’s coffee fell to the floor as well, their arms wrapped around each other with an intensity that could have knocked the wind out of both of them if they weren’t already winded from running and anxiety. Virgil shoved his face into Romans, taking in his scent as tears rolled down his cheeks. He smelt of Earth and Cinnamon. Just how Virgil imagined.

“You’re here. You’re real. This wasn't just some long elaborate joke.” Virgil's voice was quietly, barely audible above the white nose that was the airport. Roman’s own eyes were watering as he sniffed, his face burying itself into Virgil's hair, smelling the fresh hair dye. 

“I’m here. You’re here.��� He let out a watery chuckle into Virgil’s hair, blinking the tears out of his eyes. “This is real. This is real. Gods i love you, Virgil. I love you and you’re here.” Roman babbled. Virgil let out his own chuckle, pulling back and standing on the balls of his feet to kiss his love deeply. Both of them have been dreaming of this moment forever, and it was just like the books and movies say. Sparks exploded in both their stomachs as Roman’s hands wrapped tighter around Virgil's waist and Virgil’s hand made their way to the back of Roman’s head, tangling his fingers into the others hair. They kissed with two years of longing. Roman laughed against his lover’s lips, wrapping his arms tighter as he lifted Virgil into the air slightly. Virgil let out a squeak as the loss of contact with the floor before he too let out a watery giggle, continuing the kiss. Roman spun them quickly before putting Virgil back down, both their arms still connected in some way with the other. 

“I love you too, Princey.” Roman’s face flushed at the nickname. Hearing it in person was something he never wanted to live without again. 

“Now Stormcloud, you wound me. I have a name you know.” It was Virgil’s turn to blush, coming to the same realization about the nickname. He tried to cover it up with a scoff as he rolled his eyes, looking away. 

“I love you too, Roman.” He mumbled, feigning annoyance, to which Roman beamed, leaning down to kiss the other again. Virgil, after getting lost in the kiss, finally remembered they were in public. He pushed Roman away gently, lips parted breathlessly. “Ro, we need to get my bag. At least wait till we get back to the car.” Roman blushed, rubbing the back of his head as he took one of Virgil’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers. He never wanted their skin contact to end. 

“Sorry, mi amore. I shall try my hardest to restrain myself from your beautiful lips.” Virgil blushed deeply, giving roman a soft shove with his hip, but not pulling his hand out of the other’s. Virgil looked down at his spilt coffee and Romans flowers. Roman following his gaze chuckled softly, bending down to pick up the red and purple roses, shaking some of the iced coffee off them. “I got these for you. I know you said /not/ to get you anything, but i wanted to.” Virgil took the flowers, smiling softly. He did tell Roman not to get him anything, but he appreciated it anyway. He smelled them, his nose burying into a rose before chuckling softly. 

“I love the smell of coffee and roses.” Roman laughed, a hearty sound that was so much more joyful in person than over a video. He picked up the now empty cup and looked at Virgil apologetically.

“Well good thing I /totally/ planned that.” Virgil scoffed at the obvious lie, taking the cup from his love, flowers under his arm as he tossed it into a nearby trash can. 

“If you planned that, you owe me a new coffee.” 

“If you insist, My dark prince.” Virgil rolled his eyes at Roman’s comment, as said boyfriend picked up his duffel bag. He watched the taller male begin to talk about all the things he had planned for the two weeks they got to spend together as they began walking to the baggage claim. He didn't hear half of it as he just watched his boyfriend,  taking in the features of the other without a screen in the way. Roman turned to Virgil, his sentences trailing off at the look his lover was giving him. One of wonder, of awe, of love. Roman blushed deeply as Virgil reached a hand out to touch his cheek, smiling softly at him as he smiled back. At that moment, standing in the airport’s baggage claim, both internally decided they were going to fight for one another. Fight for their relationship to work. They would work twice as hard to move in together. They would fight to have the life they have been dreaming of. A life without a screen between them.

[sign-from-god-complex]

(fake fic title) Four Seven Hate

Four Seven Hate

Summary: There were very few people on Logan’s shit list. He was pretty forgiving, as long as people went the proper lengths to apologise for any missteps, and he was much more likely to declare someone not worth his time than he was to take an active role in disliking them.

One person who was on that list, however, was Remy Wake.

Pairing: Losleep

A/N: Whoops! Looks like it’s not a fake fic title anymore. I’m so, so glad I’ve finally managed to write another fic cause I’ve been trying for like a week and all it’s gotten me was a lot more WIPs and a lot more frustration. But I did it! So here you go!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan was not sure why he showed up to this party. He barely knew anybody, he wasn’t interested in drinking and, despite his tendency to get work done weeks before the deadline, he did have actual studying to be doing.

He also wasn’t sure why, when pulled by the hand to join a small circle on the floor by Roman—the only person at the party he actually knew and the driving force that had landed him here in the first place—he didn’t immediately get up and leave. Circles at a party were never a good thing, not if you didn’t want to get roped into some party game you most certainly weren’t interested in, like truth or dare or never have I ever or-

Seven minutes in heaven. Apparently.

And, of course, it was just Logan’s luck that he was selected to go first.

After Roman had lifted him clean off the ground and shoved him into the closet—much to his loud protests—he had nothing to do but wait for his partner in this party hell to arrive. He had already tried the knob the moment the door had been closed behind him but it seemed as if this group must have located the host and obtained a key because it wouldn’t budge.

The wait seemed to take much longer than he had expected it to—if Logan was prone to paranoia, he would say that the selection of his partner hadn’t been quite so random but he wasn’t, so he didn’t—but soon enough the door of the closet opened again and a body was being shoved in beside him.

There was very little light in the closet but, thankfully, Logan’s eyes had already had time to adjust to the darkness and he got the chance to see his partner before they had a chance to see him. And he wasn’t pleased with what he saw.

Remy Wake.

The biggest slacker and most irreverent asshole Logan had ever had the displeasure of knowing.

Based on the scowl on Remy’s face upon recognising his cellmate, Logan would assume Remy had a similar dislike of his person, but as opposed to Logan, he thinks it’s unlikely that Remy’s opinions of him have any basis in fact. (He ignores the niggling thought in the back of his mind that, given their incredibly limited encounters, he’s not entirely sure that his opinions actually have much of a basis in fact either.)

Logan had already been certain that nothing was going to happen in this closet tonight but setting his sights on Remy had only made him doubly as certain.

“What a surprise,” he muttered, his face set firmly in disapproval—not that Remy could probably see it all that well with those sunglasses on in the dark closet, “There’s a party and Remy Wake is present. Surely, it’s unprecedented.”

Remy looked away for a moment, heaving out a sigh. “How the fuck would you know how many parties I’ve attended? It’s not like you ever come. And it seems even when you do you look like a fucking tax accountant.”

Something similar had actually been said by Roman when Logan had left the dorms earlier this evening but Logan hadn’t let it get to him then and he certainly wouldn’t let it get to him now. He simply smoothed out the material of his coat—strange to keep it on even in the house, yes, but he was always particularly susceptible to the cold—and resigned himself to seven minutes of tense, frustrated silence.

Against all odds, they did manage to survive the seven minutes—the time spent glowering at each other, rolling their eyes and making snide comments.

At one point, Remy actually removed his sunglasses. He was muttering something about trying to find a way out of here, blinking around the room with eyes much bluer than Logan had expected by any means. Logan couldn’t even figure out why Remy would even wear sunglasses with eyes that blue. When Remy caught Logan staring, though, he quickly shoved his glasses back on, seemingly trying to look like it hadn’t bothered him by throwing out some comment about Logan’s loss at his debate meeting last week. Logan wasn’t even sure how Remy knew he’d lost debate last week.

It didn’t matter though because they were back to arguing and by the time the closet door was opened, Logan could not be gladder to finally be rid of Remy Wake.

Of course, it didn’t stop there.

No, suddenly, Logan was encountering Remy all over campus. He was lounging about at Logan’s favourite coffee place, he was the new member of Logan’s study group, he was hanging off Roman’s arm, giggling in a way that was just so incredibly irritating.

Logan had tried to ask Roman why Remy had suddenly seemed to become his new best friend (in a way that he thought totally didn’t make him sound jealous or needy, thank you very much) but, in response, Roman just gave him that smile. That stupid smile that usually indicated that Roman thought he was incredibly socially inept—which, true, but why say it—and Logan had stormed off to fume.

Stupid Remy. Stupid Remy with his stupid smirk and his stupid flirting and his stupid laugh and his stupid hair and his stupid eyes behind his stupid sunglasses and the stupid way he hated him even though Logan wasn’t sure why.

Logan wasn’t really sure why he hated Remy either.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t the most invested in his studies but then, neither was Roman with certain classes, and that didn’t stop them from being—sometimes reluctant—best friends. There was just something about Remy that made him feel and, worse, made him feel things he didn’t understand. And Logan hated not understanding.

When he came out of his room, looking vaguely like he’d just gone through something of an emotional hurricane, Roman just gave him a pat on the back and one of the Crofter’s cookies he’d stashed away. Clearly, Logan’s revelation was only a revelation to him. And, hopefully, to Remy.

He tried to catch Remy at the end of the next study meeting, looming over his shoulder as he packed his bag.

“Uh, sorry, hon, but I got nothing to say to you, ‘kay?” Remy snarked, throwing his satchel over his shoulder and raising his eyebrows at Logan, “So why don’t you just get out of my way.”

Logan stood his ground despite Remy’s comment, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Remy looked as if he was just about to push past Logan when he finally spoke up

“I’m sorry.”

At that, Remy looked… genuinely caught off guard and for just a moment his persona seemed to drop, leaving him confused and… something else Logan couldn’t quite identify.

He took a breath, his brow furrowed.

“I wasn’t… exactly sure why it was that I found you so frustrating. I had convinced myself that it was your lack of study habits and generally—” Logan waved his hand around for a moment—“flippant attitude towards school in general. Though, of course, that excuse fell apart as soon as you joined the study group and I realised that Roman is just as bad, if not worse, in engaging in his classes.”

Remy gave no reply, simply watching him as he took another moment to think.

He cleared his throat. “That is all to say, that I apologise for my behaviour towards you over the time we’ve known each other and I would appreciate the chance to metaphorically… start over, as it were?”

There was another moment of silence as Remy regarded him, lips twisted slightly but in a way that Logan hoped was more considering than it was cruel.

“Yeah, alright,” Remy finally conceded, a slight grin pulling at his features, “Starting over it is.”

Logan stuck out his hand for Remy to shake and at Remy’s equal-parts confused and amused expression, he elaborated.

“I… uh, I never got the chance to properly introduce myself, I don’t think. I’m Logan McKenzie, I like debates, books, astronomy and anybody who’ll give me the opportunity to ramble for hours about things they probably don’t care about.”

A grin spread across Remy’s face as he took Logan’s hand in his. “Remy Wake. I like coffee, cute boys, puzzles and anybody who’ll let me wake them up at three in the morning for a trip to get slushies.”

“Wanna go for coffee?”

Remy grinned, big and bright and real. “Yeah. Sounds good, nerd.”

—————

“So… uh, did you ever figure out why you did seem to hate me so much?” Remy asked, bumping his shoulder against Logan’s as they made their way out of the library.

Logan startled slightly. “Oh! Yes. I find you extremely physically attractive.”

Remy didn’t think he could be blamed for walking directly into the doorframe at that but with the sound of Logan’s laughter echoing in his ears, so pretty and joyful, he wasn’t really hurrying to explain himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @camcam774 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @hold-my-hat @goodandbadisallmadeupnonsense @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @mychemicalpanicattheemo @primaryyblogg @localtransgrape @fandomsofrandom @gattonero17 @airiervessel @ollyollyoxinfree 

and, of course, for the losleep, @sleepless-in-starbucks and @emo-disaster

[yeocult]

ateez film diary analysis

ok i am currently typing with tears in my eyes but that’s cool!!!! gonna talk about ateez diary film for a moment. btw if you’re here for theories, this might not be for you, my brain is not capable of that critical thinking lmao. although, i will be rambling/analyzing the cinematography and overall admiring the film!! under the cut because this happened to be 1.5k words oops.

man, first of all, 16 minutes?? thank you for the food kq!! i think their concept is super cool. it’s unpredictable, refreshing, and just gives me a lot of high hopes for this comeback. ateez never disappoints, they come back each time stronger and better.

“this is the story where their dimensions are split into eight pieces again.” that kinds hurt me. throughout the film we see clips of them being happy and joyful with each other, but we also see scenes where they’re all alone. they didn’t get separated by losing contacts or whatever, literally dimensions.

phew okay, when the man with the black fedora approaching hongjoong like that was soooo dskjdj ugh i love it when they have a bright light in the back, capturing the silhouette perfectly. sorry i’m such a sucker for those types of shoots!! now hongjoong’s dream. “the world inside a television cannot be reached. the world they live in and the world that i live in is blocked.” yea.. they’re separated from dimensions. isn’t that so heartbreaking?? separated by time and space. 

um this might be a huge stretch, plus i’m horrible at science. i’ve read a lot of articles on where, ‘if time stopped would gravity still apply?’ and i thought of this because of the items floating up around hongjoong. without time, gravity, acceleration, speed and force are simply meaningless, so i guess that’s why it’s floating? as if we’re going back in time. there’s a lot of consequences and weird things on going back in time/time travelling (most famously the ‘bootstrap paradox’) because time is not an object and cannot ‘go’ anywhere at all, not forward, not backward, nor can it stop. so i expected some not so happy events to occur.

anyways moving on to seonghwa’s memory. i loved this. “i thought i lacked in many areas and have much to learn.” then we see a bunch of to-do lists and i guess they’re kinda like goals to accomplish or things he wants to learn. the somewhat long shot of him sitting on this table and the camera moving away from him gave me a sense of isolation (i also don’t know why yeo in the smn box is on the tv but it could mean he’s trapped). we also see him walking straight, kinda like following a straightforward path with a lot of control, hence the to-do lists. then he hits stops. now the girl is the total opposite of seonghwa. she’s dancing, moving, and overall carefree i would say. everything seonghwa is lacking. she’s freedom. i don’t have much to say about this scene but i really like how when he was walking one step at a time, it was completely dark. but as soon as it hits stops and sees her, there were lights.

now my favourite, wooyoung’s choice. that transition to seonghwa’s little emo time to wooyoung’s hyped underground music and dancing was the serotonin boost i needed. let’s talk about his ponytail because it made me a whole simp for him. plus he’s so fucking cool?? if i become a wooyoung biased soon, you know why. he talks about stage fright and the scene where people were looking down at the camera was perfect, low camera shots show dominance or superiority. when you have stage fright, you’re worried and insecure about your abilities (at least that’s how i feel) and with people look down at you is almost like they’re judging and aren’t expecting much from you. ateez brings him courage and reassurance, they give him strength. the last scene with the rain and the flickering light so chilling. its almost like the rain washed away his everything.

yeosang’s time giving me slight dark academia vibes and i’m here for it!!! also bird metaphors?? yes please! “limited freedom. like a bird in a cage.” we see yeosang in a room surrounded by other musicians but he isn’t playing his instrument. almost like he doesn’t wanna be there or has no real passion for this field. hence him talking about ‘expanding his dreams’. we get a close shot at his face looking forward to the right, i feel as if he’s daydreaming or reaching out. taking back to say my name, we have yeosang trapped inside that box, almost like the birds with limited freedom. he drops his violin and suddenly the birds (they symbolize peace, transformation, freedom and power) are free, giving us a scene with his friends. he’s free.

san’s resolution might just be my favourite in terms of cinematography. can we just talk about the long amount of time san has the stay put for the timelapse to work?? the scene wins my heart. now we see the classroom in a mess, meaning school was never enjoyable to san. always moving and no friends. the way he’s moving seems like there’s not much he can do in his life. the escalator scenes kinda look like the one in wonderland. time is always moving, the escalator moving, and san runs back up despite it moving in the opposite direction. im not sure where i was going with this but i thought i was kinda cool, how he’s running back up to be with his friends.

next, we have yunho and his brother. in a matter of seconds, all the light in the studio flicker and turns off. this is quite similar to the flicker lights in wooyoung’s last scene. there’s a pattern here with flickering lights and how it means lost and loneliness. we don’t know what 5:07 mean, maybe its completely relevant but knowing kq and their team, almost everything seems intentional. also i saw on twt (not my analysis) but seonghwa’s to-do list includes a task of learning how to drive, then we get yunho getting hit by a car. not sure where i got from this but i thought i would include it.

actor jongho!!!! he’s so good i love him. ok so we get that basketball was his dreams but due to his broken leg, it seems impossible for him to pursue that dream. we him sitting at a distance, admiring the game and the people who are able to play. but when he’s in the court, he’s all alone (might just be because he can’t go in court when other people are playing but just let me be deep for a second oki). the burning basketball means he cannot play again. then the fight scene between him and mingi. i want to talk about the camera work for a second. it’s unstable, harsh and a little unfocused (because it’s handheld) and it makes it seem like another member’s pov, pushing the realism on us. hmm this might be kinda dumb but the loud bang when mingi got pushed was a little unexpected hence every scene with the boys was all very calm and had music in the back, no sounds. idk just a noticed. ohmygod another silhouette scene with beautiful lighting in the back!!!! the camera is moving away from him, moving away shows weakness. i loveee this so much along with the smoke. his dreams are burning up, literally.

last we have mingi’s diary. “earphones in my ears, the world is mine for now.” again, similar to seonghwa in the dark walking, mingi is isolating himself from the world. he’s using music to escape from reality. mingi looks trapped by the way its shot, cutting off his forehead and lips only showcasing his eyes and nose. this could be his facial features are more important than anything else right now. the camera angle is below mingi, again with the dominance and superiority… because he literally kicked someone. but still the same camera angle except this time mingi is looking up at the sky or forward, not looking down. with that, mingi no longer looks intimidating, he seems slightly vulnerable. and i think that’s really powerful how quickly he transitions despite the same angle. so we know mingi uses music as an escape, “i would rather be alone than encounter the world.” then we see yeosang (by his flannel) taking off his earphones. bringing him back to reality with the boys, and everything seems a lot more peaceful. its kinda like, without his friends, he would rather be isolated. now i want to point how the loud bang from jongho’s shot. it’s literally the same shot but the noise isn’t there indicating that mingi has earphones in (i think even when they’re not literally in, he still shuts out noise), shutting off the noise. i think the little details were so well done. we also get a match cut of mingi blinking, back to the darkness. i think it shows how quickly things can be taken away from you.

MAN THE SCENE WHERE THEY ALL GATHER TOWARDS HONGJOONG JAKJDSJKSDJKSD I CANNOT BREATHE IT GAVE ME SO MUCH CHILLS MYGODDOO !!!!!! like that scene in say my name. gotta love the build up of the song then it drops when the members all show up UGH I LOVED THAT SOO MUCH!! “the memories of short happiness. and dreams broken into pieces” brb gonna cry. the hourglass is finished,, what does this mean? ;o also i cant help but to notice the lighting on how one side is dark and the other has light. this could just be for aesthetics but idkkkk just another notice.

hehe sorry this made no sense,,, anyways that’s all i have to say, i’m so excited for their comeback <33

[i-read-by-lamp]

Alright here we go

I haven’t been seeing anyone mention this but it really caught my attention so I guess I’ll say it!

Remus wasn’t upset when Virgil said he was just a common cold.

I mean you would think he’d be a little huffy or something right?? Like he’s being told that he is no longer considered to be a big threat.

^^ when Virgil first starts talking about how Remus made him feel he seems prepped to be a bit huffy, or to be offended in someway. I’d even go so far as to say that little frown is because Virgil is saying he unsettled the anxious side so much. I think he’s ready to hear something along the lines of how who he is is wrong. And I imagine that would be mildly upsetting to anyone.

^^ however, when Virgil goes on to say Remus is nowhere near as bad as he thought, we get this little quirk of the lips. A soft look towards Virgil. He seems fond, even a little happy that Virgil has seen that he’s not some big bad terrible thing and is telling him how his view of him has changed.

^^ then after Virgil finishes. Remus just laughs and seems genuinely joyful with what just occurred. To me it didn’t come across as condescending or not taken seriously. This is the first time in the video for me (aside from the name reveal) when it seems like Remus is having a reaction that isn’t over the top and overly loud for the sake of it. He’s genuinely laughing about this new connection Virgil made. And not twisting it or antagonizing Virgil with the admission either.

^^^ then when Remus tells Virgil “you tickle me emo.” Virgil has this facial expression. Like this is a banter he has engaged in before. That this kind of phrase is one he’s heard before and it’s not offensive. It’s a fond memory. Of course Virgil schools his expression almost immediately. And right after this Remus ducks out and says it’s just like old times. Causing virgil to look worried once again.

My point is that while Remus is largely just silly and nonsense and clearly makes Virgil uncomfortable throughout the episode. I don’t think there’s a simmering pot of negative feelings towards each other like with Virgil and Deceit. Sure Virgil would rather not see the Duke, and Remus is definitely not a good guy, hold hands around the campfire dude. But that little moment just makes me think that while Virgil used to be a dark side, And the dark sides are probably not the best influences to Virgil’s emotional state, I don’t think Virgil intensely hates all of them either. And I don’t think Remus dislikes Virgil. I actually think they got along as well as terrifying dark creative intrusive thoughts and anxiety could.

(Words are hard, so if you want to talk about this with me, or are confused about what I’m trying to say, please by all means hit me up. I did my best to convey my thoughts on this. This does not mean I think that Remus is good and this wasn’t meant to be a post to redeem his character. It was just a moment I noticed that piqued my curiosity.)

[niftyneffy]

Heart AU - Home is Where the Heart is

(This AU belongs to @emositecc I only did the writing. To those of you who are unaware, Emo has adapted most of this into a comic and I highly advise you check it out, for they offer a new perspective and feeling! Her comic adaptation of this is incredible!) 

Beautiful, charming and delicate.

The night sky held a powerful feeling tonight, a feeling of tranquillity, calmness and grace. Every scattered, sparkling star was hugged by the everlasting darkness around them, acting as a cloak of comfort for the dancing lights. But among the dazzling stars rested the glowing orb that was the moon, shining like a crystal ball and spreading its elegance to the world below.

Taking refuge behind the grassy hill of Beach City, settled nicely under the colossal, mossy statue that was the Crystal Temple, a small, cosy beach house sat in the sculptured hand of the statue. On the wooden deck of the house, admiring the night sky as if it was a painting, a pink gem stood tall and relaxed, unmoving like the monument behind the beach house.

With hair styled into a pair of heart-shaped buns, wearing a white top with pink rounded sleeves, a small, yellow cape, puffy shorts, white stockings and a big pair of doll shoes, everything about this gem looked as if she hopped out of a cartoon show.

In the centre of her chest was her gemstone that resembled a heart, however, unlike her Garnet, Pearl, Amethyst and even Steven, it looked to have been broken in half, torn into two with the other half missing.

Exuberant, optimistic and joyful, Spinsy wore a radiant smile, eyes shining bright much like the stars she gazed upon. Holding her wrist and continuing to adore the night's art, she happily let her thoughts wander, losing herself in the wonders of her mind and beginning to feel wrapped in delicacy. The only sound she could hear was the ocean shaking, softly and smoothly caressing the beach's shore.

Though her eyes were open, Spinsy felt like she had just woken up when she suddenly detected the sound of the front door closing behind her, allowing all of her thoughts to be recollected. Slightly jumping, she casually turned herself around and immediately took notice to a young Steven, rubbing his eyes and looking rather tired.

"Steven?" She said with a hint of confusion while arching a brow. "What are you doing up this late, shouldn't you be in bed?" Quickly, the joyous gem vanquished her confused look and replaced it with a smirk, bending down as she rested her finger on her face. "Are you trying to pull off an all-nighter, you little rascal?"

As Steven finished rubbing his face on the sleeve of his red pyjamas, he looked up to the gem with heartbroken eyes, gleaming with tears and sniffling while his lips grew thin, but continuously quivering.

Shocked, Spinsy quickly dropped her smirk and widened her eyes in fear, worriment dancing in her pupils as she pulled herself back up, but refusing to break her stare from Steven. As if his dejection was contagious, the cheery gem felt like she was in pain seeing him in tears.

Camly, she lowered herself to his height and raised her gloved hands, trying to ease his worries as the cheeriness in her voice transformed into concern.

"Hey, hey, Steven." She cooed. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Looking hesitant, he slowly surveyed the area of the house's deck with his watery eyes, looking left and right while fidgeting with his fingers, his stomach feeling infected with sorrow. As if the words were caught in his throat, his voice bailing on him, Steven then lowered his head in shame but kept his pupils glued on the gem before him.

A small, welcoming smile grew on Spinsy's face, doing her best to soothe his anxiety as she softly spoke, "Hey, you don't have to be scared, you can tell me anything. We're friends."

Even though uncertainty remained seated in his system, Steven finally spoke, his voice shaking in sadness, "Spinsy, I... I miss my dad."

Relieved that he hadn't been hurt, the gem sighed, "Aw, you poor thing. You're probably just feeling homesick."

This time it was Steven's turn to hike a brow, speaking in a confused tone, "Homesick? That doesn't make any sense, I am home. Why would I be feeling homesick?"

Amused, bringing her hand up to her mouth, giggling at his response, Spinsy contained her laughter and sat down. Gently, she patted the floor next to her, gesturing for Steven to come and sit next to her.

"Come sit with me, little buddy." She happily summoned.

Acknowledging her request, Steven wiped his eyes and took a few steps towards Spinsy and sat down beside her, crossing his legs as he got into a comfortable position.

Placing her hands on her knees, she directed all of her attention on the upset child, still carrying a tone of serenity in her voice, "As complicated as it sounds, home can mean much more than just the place that holds the roof under your head. Sometimes, home can be another gem-" Promptly, Spinsy shook her head, trying to put her sentence back on track. "I mean, person! In a way, you being with your dad felt like home, right?"

Taking on an unsure look, Steven anxiously averted his gaze away from Spinsy for a moment, pressing his fingers together in discomfort, mumbling, "I guess. But I shouldn't be feeling like this, even though I miss him, I like it here. I love being with you, Pearl, Amethyst and Garnet!"

"Aw!" Spinsy squealed, her face brightened with joy flowing through her. "We all love being with you too, Steven, and I'm sure your dad misses you just as much as you miss him."

"Thanks, Spinsy, but I'm sorry." He apologised, bringing his legs upwards and curling himself into a ball, hoping to contain his gloom. "Hearing that my dad misses me just as much as I miss him doesn't really make me feel any better. I just wish this feeling would... Go away."

All it took was a blink and the pink gem looked down in disappointment, feeling useless to not able to make him smile. It pained Spinsy to see Steven this upset, but then, she casually picked up her smile and looked back to the son of Rose Quartz.

"You know, I remember the first time I was homesick."

Lifting his head, Steven looked back to her and murmured, "You... do?"

"Boy do I," Spinsy answered while lightly nodding her head. "Before we arrived on Earth, I had to say farewell to the home that I adored. But it wasn't the area that was my home. Like you with your dad, I had someone very special to call home. Someone I loved, someone I cherished... Someone I had to leave... forever." Although her smile remained intact, it was obvious the happiness that latched onto her expression was beginning to decay.

"Wow, Spinsy," Steven began, spilling sympathy in his voice. "I'm- I'm so sorry."

"Day and night, I can never stop thinking about that..."

Slowly, she brought up her hands and rested them against her gem. Grief beginning to overwhelm her, Spinsy slowly started to shake her head ever so slightly while her bottom lip began to quiver, forcing out her words with tears shining in her eyes.

"Other half..." She breathed wistfully, still maintaining the trembling smile that stuck to her face. "That smile... That laugh..."

Conflicted between her emotions, memories of happiness and thoughts of depression clashed with one another inside the gem's mind. With a sniffle, Spinsy raised her arm to her eyes and wiped the sparkling tears on her wrist, erasing all signs of grief on her face.

Nonchalantly, she looked back to Steven who appeared wide-eyed, curiosity and interest jumping onto his expression.

"I know what it's like to be homesick," Spinsy stated softly. "I know what it's like to be away from someone that means home to you, but no matter what you think, they're never gone, even if it seems that way. Those we love live inside all of us and give us the strength to carry on."

"Your dad is never far from you, Steven." The pink gem lifted a smile. "He'll never abandon you and he'll never forget you. After all, you're his home just as much as he's yours."

"Heh," Steven chuckled. "Thanks, but I can't forget about you and the rest of our friends. Home is where the heart is, right?"

Throwing her head up in delight, Spinsy cheered in delight, "Right!"

His confidence and happiness being restored, Steven rubbed the back of his head and looked to his friend with blissful eyes. Like a flower opening in the spring, his smile grew delicately, "Hey, Spinsy. Thanks a lot for talking to me, I really needed this."

"There's no need to thank me just for talking to you, silly." She giggled, rewarding him with a smile of her own that shined brighter than the stars above. "We're best friends!"

"Yeah," Steven managed to say with a yawn interrupting him. "Best friends."

Containing the elation exploding inside her, Spinsy began to squeak with glee, looking up to the night sky, "Ooh! I have a great idea! How about tomorrow, first thing in the morning, we go and see Greg? We'll hang out, just the three of us, well, the others can tag along, of course, but they might be busy, but more the merrier, am I right? Then we can all spend the day together! We can even go to that doughnut place you love so much! How does that sound, Ste-"

If it wasn't for the slight bump she felt on her arm, the exuberant gem would have kept running her mouth with joy bombarding her words. Locking up her lips, the sound of her own voice fading into silence, Spinsy glanced down to her side with curiosity and confusion taking over her eyes.

Slumped against her, his face resting on her arm, Steven succumbed to the sleep that lingered around him. Although he had failed to stay awake, now wrapped in the comfort and tranquillity of his dreams, his features appeared much softer in his sleep, eradicating the worriment and trepidation he had carried.

Rhythmically, his chest began to rise and fall, his calmed breathing loosening the anxiety that kept him tangled. Free from his worries, buried in relaxation and sleeping in peace, Steven let his conscious swirl into the depths of slumber.

Spinsy felt bliss burst through her system as the hybrid son of Rose Quartz nestled by her side. A smile curled upwards on her face, staring in fascination and adoring every second of this moment.

"You humans really need your sleep, don't ya." She whispered.

Absorbing the silence around her, Spinsy armoured herself in caution and stood up, gently scooping Steven off the floor and securing him in her arms. The way she held him made it look as if he was sleeping on a bright pink hammock. With each step, the pink gem failed to make a sound against the wooden planks of the floor, lightly walking towards the door of the beach house and stretching her hand to the handle, miraculously opening it without disrupting the stillness of the night.

"Goodnight, Steven," Spinsy breathed, keeping her voice light as she looked down to her sleeping friend.

However, before entering the house, the pink gem raised her head and looked back up to the night sky with her eyes glistening with the stars, comfort and serenity surging through her and painting her a smile.

"Goodnight, sis."

Every day and every night, she honoured the memories of her other half and she'd continue to do so.

[luna-memoria]

Snow

I'm back with some silent cat fluff •̀.̫•́✧

Basically Felix and Claude get separated from the group while traveling and find themselves lost on a snow day. Enjoy your read!

Word count: 1601 (now edited)

..

"We're lost, aren't we."

Claude pauses for a long moment, then stubbornly decides, "no." He doesn't seem as sure of his words with how he taps away on his phone, its screen filled with sweaty fingerprints, frantically.

Here they are, in the snow, separated from the rest of the group, in… somewhere. Felix's not really sure. They were in a park, and now they've somehow ended up on a long road that never seems to end. There's a bridge a short distance away from where they're standing. The stream below is half-frozen. He hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings before and he regrets it with every fiber of his being. That's what happens when you travel with someone who's good at finding their way around (Allan) and think you can just follow them around without having to think too much when passing through crowds.

He goes through his backpack again, like somehow this time he would find something of use in this situation. Inside is still the same water bottle and umbrella and extra socks and the plastic packet of fingerless gloves Claude bought for him as a joke in a store earlier, though he cannot see where the joke is. His phone charger is back at the hotel, probably. His phone, laying soundly in his coat pocket is dead and has been for half an hour, which is an absolute joy, because that leaves Claude's phone as their only hope of finding their way.

"Have you managed to contact anyone?"

"Bri's shared her location," says Claude at last. You can hear the relief in his voice, see how his tense shoulders relax. He starts doing random things like exhaling mouthfuls of air so the air around his face goes foggy for awhile. "She says they're in- a restaurant? Shouldn't be too long of a walk."

"Not a long walk, huh?" says Felix blankly. His eyes do a quick scan around them. Snow, snow, snow everywhere. To him at this moment, any walk would be a long one. He wonders if he can still feel his face, but he doesn't feel like taking his hands out of his pocket just to test that. Instead, he leans over to see Claude's phone. Sure enough, it's technically not too far of a distance, but they had to pick the worst kind of place to get lost in: a huge and freezing park that would probably take at least a good twenty minutes to walk back to the entrance - that's how long they took to reach their current spot, though it might as well have been an hour because it was hell trying to walk through the snow with snow falling on your glasses and blurring them. They've only managed to get internet connection from the university building that happened to be on their way.

And of course, now they've got to go back through the snow. He mumbles complaints about this under his breath.

Claude laughs, and Felix wants to shiver at how small and sorrowful it sounds. Claude Haprele does not make that kind of face, even in bad situations. He pulls on the sleeves of the sweater he's wearing beneath his huge puffy coat so he's got sweater paws, and only then Felix realizes that he doesn't have gloves on. Felix doesn't either, but he got to stick his hands in his pocket, and even though they're still cold it's better, while Claude- Claude didn't, because he had to use his phone to help them find their way. What the hell.

His hands must be freezing.

"Let's go, I feel stuffy just standing here," says Claude, pulling down his hood. There is snow all over his coat, over his boots and his hair and his face. Despite this, he does not look like a person who's freezing, not the slightest bit. A horrible feeling expands within Felix's chest.

Felix chews on his lip, feeling terrible that he hadn't realized this sooner. He reaches into his bag and retrieves the packet of fingerless gloves and rips open the plastic and hands the contents to Claude, who just looks at him bug-eyed and surprised.

"Put these on," he says in a rush. "They- well, they probably aren't meant to keep your hands warm, but it'll help, at least."

Claude stares down at the offered gloves then moves his gaze back to Felix, grins a slightly more real and joyful grin. "Guess my joke gift turned out to be useful in the end, huh?"

"I still don't get the joke."

"Of course, because it's not a joke, idiot," says Claude, sticking his tongue out. "I thought they suited you. Emo aesthetic and all, y'know? And thank you, for offering, but I won't be wearing those."

"What?" He frowns. He knows the idiot is stubborn and selfless at the least convenient times, but he didn't really expect to be flat out rejected in two seconds. He'd expect that when they first met and didn't get along, but now he likes to think that they're much better, much willing to hear the other out. "But you-"

"Pretty sure you need these more, dude. Just because your hands are in your pocket doesn't mean they're less cold," says Claude, which makes Felix want to pinch his cheeks for being an idiot. But before he could do anything, Claude reaches for Felix's hand and grasps his fingers briefly. Both of them are freezing. Claude is grinning wide and so is Felix, somehow. "And trust me, I can take a little cold."

Felix is dumbfounded for a second at all of this - the huge dumb smile on his companion's face; unbelievable, he thinks, feeling a little pissed, just unbelievable-

Then, he thinks of something that might work.

"Okay," he says. He takes a glove and slips it onto his left hand, then he takes the phone from Claude's right hand, slips the other glove on that hand, and gives him back the phone. "Now you can use the phone without your hand going numb. Or, well, too numb."

Claude's eyes widen a bit, like he wants to say something but can't think of the right words. And when he does go on to say something, he's stopped as Felix takes his ungloved hand in his own and squeezes it lightly.

"A much more practical option than leaving one person freezing," he says as an explanation, trying not to sound too embarrassed but failing quite miserably. Some snow falls onto his hood and slides down and gets caught in his hair. "Now hurry up and get moving."

Claude nods dumbly. His eyes are still wide and his lips are parted, a question undoubtedly stuck in his throat. He breathes out again, making another cloud of fog around his face, and Felix almost snorts. Is this Claude's way of trying to hide his embarrassment? It's so silly and unbearably… Claude, and Felix doesn't even hate that he finds this cute. And he must have let some sign of amusement show, because the next second Claude is looking at him, eyes narrowed and cheeks slightly pink.

"Don't make fun of me, Felix," he whines, which only makes Felix chortle in response.

"You're getting a taste of your own medicine."

"You're so mean, although I'm freezing myself to help you get out of this place!"

Felix couldn't help but smile again. He was going to say something stupid again, but looking at Claude's face-

...well, guess it couldn't be helped.

"I know. That's why we're going to buy you some better gloves when we reach a shop."

"There's no need for that."

Felix sends a dry look in his direction. "There is. Your hand is still very cold." He squeezes his hand again to prove a point.

"Well, I guess…"

"We can still do this after you get gloves," says Felix, for some reason. He doesn't know why he's saying that, or what he means with it.

"As in whenever I want?" asks Claude, head tilted slightly. It doesn't take long for Felix to get what he means by that, 'after', as in just until we find the others, or anytime I want after this, even after the trip and after we return home?

"Yes," he says, faster than both of them expected, if their mutual looks of surprise are of any indication.

Claude laughs and he sounds happy, so very happy. Felix doesn't know what to say, so he just goes on walking and contents himself in listening to that joyful laughter. They continue walking, slowly and at a steady pace. He feels Claude looking at the side of his face from time to time.

"What is it?" he asks, lips quirked upwards, the anxiety in him suddenly losing its effect. Perhaps it's because he senses the tiny bit of embarrassment in Claude as well and is glad to not be the only flustered one. Or perhaps he's just feeling happier. He finds that he doesn't really care which one it is. He focuses on their linked hands, feeling the warmth of Claude's fingers around his, a connection he finds himself enjoying quite a bit.

"You," says Claude, leaning close to him, practically beaming as he walks with light and cheerful steps, "are so cute, you know that?"

"Shut up," Felix tells him, but it's said through a huge dorky grin, one he doesn't even bother trying to hide - what would the point be? - and he doesn't let go of Claude's hand as they continue walking, even after they've found their way, even after they've reached the very end of the snowy path.

[non-binary-nightmare]

Pills: Chapter 10 FINALE CHAPTER

Chpt 1 Chpt 2 Chpt 3 Chpt 4 Chpt 5 Chpt 6 Chpt 7 Chpt 8 Chpt 9 

Sequel is here!

The warnings will be in the tags because I don’t wanna spoil anything!

-------

It’s been almost 4 months since the whole ‘incident.’ Nobody really wants to talk about it. Thomas is getting a new Morality and a new Deceit.

Virgil has finally recovered and both Thomas and Virgil told the others what Patton did to them. Remus has finally accepted that Deceit is gone and has taken the initiative to try and help Virgil move on.

----

Everyone knows that this week is going to be hard for Logan. It’s the week Thomas gets a new Morality and Deceit. Obviously, they were there for those 4 months, but there was no manifested side.

But this week, Thomas gets both a new Morality and a new Deceit. Yes, they’ll look the same. And no, they won’t have the same name.

Logan did some research and it turns out that it is extremely rare for a new side to have the same memories. They are basically a blank slate.

“But maybe he will come through!” Roman said. “That probability is highly unlikely. I can’t put any figurative hopes on it. And you two shouldn’t either.” Logan said.

“Well I’m going to anyway. I need him to remember me!” Remus said.

“That’s fine. Just don’t try and get me to do so as well.”

------

Morality showed up first, happy and as joyful as he appeared to be before. Roman took it upon himself to show Morality around and tell him about his role and everyone else's.

At first, everyone was a bit skeptical and weary of Morality. Especially Virgil. But eventually, they realized, this was no longer Patton. 

This was Liam. Thomas’ new Morality.

---

“And this is Virgil!” Roman said, finishing the introductions. “Well it’s great to meet you all! My name is Liam and I hope we all get to be great friends!” Liam said. “Nice to meet you Liam.” Logan stated.

----

Liam had several characteristics that Patton had. Like his fondness for cats, puns, and cooking.

But there were also things that Liam had that Patton didn’t. Like kindness. And he doesn’t push Thomas, or anyone, to be perfect. He tries to work with Thomas and the others. And he doesn’t put down anyone's ideas. He always wants to come up with some sort of compromise.

----

Deceit came next. At first, he seemed like he never changed. It broke Logan’s heart to see Deceit and remember that he doesn’t remember anything.

Logan summoned up the courage to show Deceit around after the introductions.

---

“Hey, Logan.?” Deceit asked. “Yes?”

“Earlier, while you were introducing me to everyone, I got a slight headache and it felt like a wave of emotions and memories came crashing back.” He said. “What do you mean?” Logan said, taking out a small notebook and pen. “Well I mean-” Deceit said, slowly pushing Logan’s hands down. “This-” Deceit pulled Logan into a kiss. It quickly turned very passionate.

When Deceit pulled away, he saw small tears in Logan’s eyes. “You- Remember?” Logan asked. Deceit nodded. “Well, I remember a little bit. It’s all still kind of blurry.”

“Well if you don’t mind, I’d like to tell the others. I can only imagine what Remus would feel like.” Deceit nodded and the two went to go find the others.

----

“So I’ve asked everyone here to tell them some very important news.” Logan said. “Deceit has regained a few of his memories.”

Remus was the first to react. He jumped up, tears in his eyes. “SEE! I TOLD YOU LOGAN. I FUCKING TOLD YOU.” He jumped on Deceit, pulling him in a tight hug. Roman was next, also joining into the hug. “What do you remember?” Roman asked. “Not much at the moment. It’s all slowly coming back in waves.” Deceit said.

Liam stood up. “I’m glad you’ve gotten your memories back, Deceit!” He said. “Thanks, Liam.”

“Oh please, call me Patton.. Janus.” Liam said, smirking. “But how would you..?”

“He got his memories back! I knew something was wrong!” Roman yelled.

“Of course I got them back! Thomas needs me. His subconscious knows what’s best for him! And what’s best for him, is me!” Patton said, charging at Logan with a knife.

“LOGAN!” Deceit yelled.

-----

I’m gonna be answering some questions about the story! Feel free to send them in! My ask box is open!

Taglist:

@misunderstoodshadowling @no-no-no-no-6 @grayson-22 @sanderssidesstuffs001 @nope-not-more @magimerlyn @fellinfire @chihuahuafaceappreciationblog @basiic-emo @crei-crei @safewordiscjstar

[lyssismagical]

22 and 4 for physical affection prompts?

a hug after not seeing someone for a long time

kissing someone’s cuts/bruises/scratches

 Being the guy in the chair meant that Ned had to deal with a lot of the fallout Peter left behind him. He’d been doing it for all of five years, now bringing his skills to Massachusetts and to a much bigger scale.

This is a little outside of his paygrade, though.

Peter had been MIA for three months.

At the beginning, it was just a matter of giving people the hope to push through another day. It was telling people that Peter would be fine, he was Spider-Man and he had all of the avengers looking out for him. Nothing would happen. It wouldn’t take long for everything to go back to normal.

But days kept passing with no word from the Avengers. He knew they were all on it, but they hadn’t found even a trace of what happened to their beloved hero.

May was handling it, spending her days down at the cabin with the Starks to keep her mind off things, and to keep Tony sane. He couldn’t help, not when he’d been hurt so badly fighting Thanos.

It was Ned’s job, though, to take care of everyone else. MJ, Flash, Harry, Gwen, the rest of Peter’s friends. And Harley.

Harley was losing his mind every moment that went by without his boyfriend.

“Hey, c’mon, dude,” Ned says, knocking on Harley’s door. To save money from living in dorm rooms, and to keep Peter’s identity a secret, the six of them got a three-bedroom apartment in the city. “You’re going to be late for class.”

“Not going,” Harley grumbles.

Ned sighs, looking over at where Harry’s sitting at the kitchen table. “You wanna try today?”

Through a bite of cereal, Harry goes, “Nah, you get to deal with him.”

Sighing, he pushes his way into Harley’s bedroom, heart aching at the sight.

Harley’s curled up in the bed, wearing one of Peter’s very old Midtown High sweatshirts, tight across Harley’s wider shoulders. Lights dimmed above, a video on his laptop playing next to him. Upon further inspection, it’s the video compilation from their last week of high school. Prom clips, graduation clips, senior skip day, the homework bonfire, the huge party. MJ filmed a lot of it, but there’s plenty of shots with her as well, camera being passed around. Peter and Harley are hand in hand through most of the shots, never once leaving each other’s sides.

“Harley, this isn’t healthy,” Ned says, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Peter and Harley have been together since their Junior year, three years now, living together for a year. They won for best relationship in the yearbook, and they’re known to be attached at the hip. The local Starbucks employees know them as Harley-and-Peter because they never go to Starbucks separately. Their room is entirely catered to the both of them. They have an entire life together planned out.

It’s scary to think of just how irreparably broken Harley would be if he lost Peter.

“Anything?” Harley asks monotonously.

“Sorry.”

Ned pauses the video and for a moment, they both stare at the screen, where Peter is shown, arms in the air, smile bright on his face, eyes peacefully shut, fire glowing behind him. Harley reaches out and gently strokes a finger over the screen.

“God, I miss him,” Harley says, voice breaking.

“I know.” Ned feels the grief hitting him now more than ever. He’s been trying so hard to hold everything together that he hasn’t really had the time to think about it. “I mean, I’ve been through him going missing before, I know you have too, but never this long. Never without any leads. Never with this little hope.”

Harley sniffles, looking unbelievably young and hurt, eyes red and hair long and messy. He doesn’t take his eyes off the screen.

“I know you don’t want to think about it, but you can’t destroy your life just in case,” Ned says. “You have to keep going to class and doing your homework and taking care of yourself. You can’t put everything on hold until he comes back.”

“If he comes back.” Harley’s voice comes out dripping with venom. “After my dad left, everyone told me he’d come back eventually. That it was a when, not an if. That it wasn’t a question whether or not I’d see him again. It’s been ten years and nothing.”

Ned feels his chest tighten at the thought of Peter never coming back. “He’s Peter fucking Parker. It’s not an If.”

Harley doesn’t reply.

Eventually, Ned has to give up. He’s going to be late for his own classes if he doesn’t head out. “Harry’s home all day, so ask him if you need anything.”

He makes it all the way to campus, driving a car gifted to him by Tony because Peter never got his licence and somebody needed to be able to take him places. He got all of the roommates some kind of crazy expensive gift when they moved out of state like paying for Harley’s entire tuition.

He’s about to get out of his car, grabbing his bag from the passenger seat when his phone lights up with a text from Sam Wilson.

Immediately, he fumbles for his phone and his keys, restarting the car and swerving to get back on the road.

“What.”

“Get up. Quick shower, get dressed, pack a little bag with extra clothes and the quilt that’s in the bottom dresser of your dresser. Meet me outside, I’ll be there in twenty,” Ned rushes out, feeling a little bad about talking on the phone while driving.

Harley pauses for a long moment. “Please don’t tell me this is just you wanting to get me to class.”

“Sam texted,” Ned says, speeding up to just over the speed limit. “They found him. We’ll meet him at the compound.”

Harley lets out a brokenly relieved sob, gasping out, “Oh god, thank you, oh my god, I’ll be ready. Focus on driving, I’ll see you there.”

Ned tosses the phone onto the passenger seat as soon as Harley hangs up, jittery with excitement.

Peter was okay.

Ned hangs back while Harley goes racing ahead of him into the compound. And right there, standing in the lobby, right in front of the elevators, is Peter.

He’s roughed up, that’s for sure, bruised and bloody, thinner than ever, hair longer than he’s ever kept it and greasy too. He’s wearing a pair of loose sweats, stained beyond recognition, and a thick sweatshirt that definitely belongs to Natasha. But despite everything, despite being missing for three months, Peter’s grinning.

Harley lets out a teary laugh and pushes into a sprint across the lobby.

If not for Peter’s stickiness and super strength, Harley would’ve tackled him right to the floor.

But Peter catches him, straightening them out, laughing softly.

Harley lifts Peter right off his feet, spinning him a circle, arms so tight around his waist. They’re both laughing like they can’t help themselves, just so ecstatic over finally being in each other’s arms again.

“Oh my god, I love you,” Harley breathes out, kissing Peter hard.

Peter smiles too big for them to keep kissing, pressing their foreheads together.

“Could you put me down, babe, you’re kind of pressing on my broken ribs?” Peter says it as a joke, but Harley immediately sets him down, eyes going wide.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay? What happened? Are you okay?”

Nodding, Peter gently kisses Harley again. “I’m just fine, sweetheart. I’ll heal up in no time.”

So carefully, like Peter’s made entirely of glass, Harley presses a gentle kiss to every bruise, scrape, and wound he sees. Hands, arms, head. He even falls to his knees to press extra kisses to his stomach and ribs.

“I’m all better, thank you,” Peter grins, pulling Harley up and into his arms again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And then, pulling back and face going stony, he says, “Don’t you ever do that to me again, you jerk, if you ever even get lost at the mall, I’ll have a heart attack and die.”

Peter kisses his cheek. “I’ll be extra careful. I won’t ever leave your side, okay?”

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spideyspeaches  @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames  @you-did-it-sir {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[musicallisto]

G'morning :) Would a sweet, familial fic with our camp bby Jack Marston and prompt: "Look a shooting star! Make a wish!" be okay to write? Been feelin' low, nowadays. Need some fluff, if it's alright with you

I told my friend a few days ago that I really wanted to write some New Year's party with a Happy Gang(tm), and then your request came in. You must have read my mind! I would love to explore more parties in my writing because Happy Gang(tm) is all I long for. Anyway, hope you like this, even if the rest of the gang is not exactly central, and sending lots of love your way ❤

(F!Reader + would recommend listening to New Year's Day by Pentatonix because it's how I got the idea in the first place, and it made me emo)

"Thirty seconds left!"

"Everyone ready!"

"Ah-- crap! My-- where's my watch?"

"Shut up, Uncle, I can't hear Dutch counting down."

"Fifteen seconds!"

"Well I can't know how much time we got left if I don't find my--"

"Just listen to him, you goddamn fool!"

"Ten seconds!"

"Arthur, John, Uncle, will you please be quiet?"

"I'm quiet. They're bickering."

"Five!"

"Cheers!"

"Not yet, you dumbass!"

"Happy new year, everyone!" Dutch's powerful voice roars out to the night sky, discretion long forgotten, sorrows fed to the flames. A cheer erupts in response. Some grab their loved ones for a good luck charm - you think you see John try to nimbly evade Abigail's kiss, before sheepishly giving in when she pouts -, some down the remainings of their bottles in one big gulp - Karen is even faster than Bill, and her loud, careless laughter explodes like your own show of fireworks -, some embrace, a glint in the eyes that could be tears hidden in their sleeves.

"To another year," Dutch breathes out, almost disbelieving that he's still alive to utter the words.

"To another century," Hosea replies, repressing a grin as he pats his oldest friend on the back.

And some, like you, observe, chest filled with warmth and stars, as the minute right after midnight, the first minute of the twentieth century overflows with joy and wishes and fraternity and love. Your family, an odd one at that, but the closest thing to a safe place you've ever known, raises a glass and a cheer for the new dawn... and first, for the new night, clean of its old grime, ready to be made into whatever the Van der Linde gang imagines.

And you imagine it grand.

Even little Jack has stayed awake for the occasion, battling his drowsy eyes and the temptation of his mother's arms to witness the commencement of his world. Abigail, although reluctant to the idea of keeping the boy up way past his bedtime, with the rest of 'em hooligans, what's more, finally gave in after John convinced her that neither of them belongs in this era that starts when the sun rises, but Jack does. Still, you've been a reliable scarecrow, all evening, keeping Uncle away from the boy - Uncle and his so-called miraculous cures for sleepiness, Uncle and his brandy, Uncle and his "it's just a little sip!". In the fireflies that shine in Jack's little eyes, awestruck at the radiant energy that runs through his aunts and uncles, his mother and father, you have no doubt that it was all worth it. If this is the world Jack is meant to see, you'd rather it start with laughter, with hugs, with joyful tales of the old times, with Javier's guitar, with Charles's subtle singing, and with Mary-Beth and Tilly's sloppy waltzes.

"Y/N! Happy New Year!" an uncharacteriscally enthusiastic Arthur exclaims, going in for a hug before you can even register if his breath smells of alcohol. You laugh against his chest, though you recognize the happy fever of a man who has scraped death way too many times to be picky about what brings him joy.

"Are you drunk already, Morgan?" you playfully retort, but you can't contain your laughter at his falsely outraged expression. It's like on the moment that marks another year, he's lost fifteen in age.

"Course not. Who d'you think I am? I'm just... happy."

"Happy suits you, Arthur," you respond, an affectionate smile making its way on your face. Everything you've been through with Arthur and the others flashes before your eyes, and you decrete right then and there that you're owed some respite, and that joy is the color that compliments best the gang's eyes.

A few moments later, when the rest of the gang has lost itself in a frenzied and clumsy dance, the most dauntless attempting to balance their bottles as they move, you come to rest by Jack's side, sitting in the grass. The air is fresher in this part of camp, devoid of fear.

"Happy New Year, Jack."

"Happy New Year, Aunt Y/N!" he sings, nodding his head to the rhythm of the dancers' feet. "Look at my Pa and my Ma!"

Following his excited finger, your eyes find two silhouettes standing out in front of the campfire. Their feet are heavier than most of the others', but you can hear their tipsy giggling and softened hearts echo every time they twirl, even from where you're sitting.

"Your Pa can dance now?"

"No," Jack hastens to answer, prouder than he should probably be, "he's improvising. He told me earlier. He hates dancing, you know? But he said he wanted to make Mama happy. And they're happy! Everyone is so happy."

You can swear, now that you heard the little boy, that John and Abigail's movements grow in elegance, this touching and life-changing elegance that things bear when they are done with love. And a wind of this same grace weaves its way into your chest, hastily pushing the laughter out of your mouth. Jack doesn't ask why you suddenly laugh; instead, he mimics it, and soon you're two hunched figures in the dark, watching a party unfurl in a clearing somewhere in New Hanover, watching the people you love most meddle together, reminisce about the old times and trip over their own feet, and the only logical, sensible reaction you can muster is to laugh.

The air has settled again between the two of you, and Jack's eyelids flutter more and more frequently, when you suddenly point at the sky, way above the illuminated canopy.

"Look! It's a shooting star, Jack! Make a wish!"

His tiny frame sits up straight again, scanning the sky for the white tear in the navy blanket above your heads. His brow furrows in concentration, and after a moment he tightly closes his eyes, as if that could, somehow, catch the attention of the burning star so very far from you, make it listen to the dreams of a child among a bunch of criminals. You've passed the age of wishing upon stars, and yet the fact that you're all living and together to mark and celebrate this oh so special night is the very symbol of the impossible. Without averting your gaze from the star's resolute course across the sky, you murmur to yourself your utmost desire. Maybe you're wishing on yourself, more than the lightning bug.

You wish that as long as you breathe, you never stop fighting for nights like these.

"What did you wish for?" you ask Jack when he's back to his senses.

The wake of the star is now long gone in the night, swallowed by the ink, but something tells you that Jack will never forget its brilliance. He still sees it, anyway. Not above his raised head, but in the campfire where his family is assembled.

"I'm not telling you! Or else it won't come true."

Leaning in with an air of conspiracy, you murmur in his ear, a secret not even the night can hear:

"I'm friend with a few stars. I'll tell them to make your wish come true. You can tell me."

After a moment of hesitation for the safety of the most crucial and closely-guarded secret in the little boy's life, he finally gives in, his face mirroring the mischievous smile you offer.

"I said I want to be just like you when I grow up."

"Just like me?"

But his little arms encircle a space that is wider than just you, that engulfs the merry chaos above your shoulder, the quiet, observant birds in the trees, his aunt Sadie whirling her knife around her fingers, and his parents now huddled together in a remote yet familiar embrace.

"Like all of you!"

You don't let the twinge of remorse get the best of your heart. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow, the ghosts of what Jack's life could have been, had he been born in a regular family, gone to a regular school, and scraped his knees on regular grounds, would haunt you in your sleep. But for now, all you do is ruffle his hair, and bring him close to your heart for a hug.

"Oh, Jack. You'll be a hundred times better, I'm sure of it."

When your breaths synchronize, you can't help thinking that you have no desire to die, but leaving for this little boy - dying for life itself would surely be the most honorable way a lowlife like you could ever go.

"Now, mister Marston," you break the silence with a grin, standing up and offering him your hand. "May I have this dance?"

[grimelords]

My November playlist is complete from Aretha Franklin to Blood Incatation, and I guarantee there’s at least something in here you’ll love. Thanks for listening!

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Don't Start Now - Dua Lipa: Dua Lipa said disco lives. I absolutely love this song, it’s rock solid disco without being throwback or ironic about it. The way this song starts with the first line of the chorus and then launches into the verse and only gives you the full chorus later feels like that thing movie trailers do now where they give you a little trailer before the trailer for some reason. It’s also something I’ve never heard before, and it gives the song a very fun structure in the intro where it has two different levels of elevation it can drop down to before the bass properly drops in. I think Dua Lipa understands something fundamental about being a pop singer: literally the only thing you have to do is make bangers. She has basically zero personality and was criticised massively around New Rules for having zero stage presence (which she's definitely gotten better at since) but I kind of like it like that - she's just an unknowable blank canvas that's not particularly interested in any kind of narrative, she just makes bangers.

Mirage (Don't Stop) - Jessie Ware: Jessie Ware has been putting out some extremely good singles since her last album and this song is another. It’s the kind of smooth neo-soul that Jungle is pioneering but the way this song is structured is really beautiful; it gives the ‘don’t stop moving’ part a lot of space early on before it really gets to take hold and take over the second half of the song - it gives the whole song this feeling of disco evolution and the song going on and on and changing rather than static pop.

What A Fool Believes - Aretha Franklin: I can’t believe I’ve never heard Aretha’s version of What A Fool Believes before. It’s amazing. It’s the best kind of cover where you just basically do the song exactly the same but better in every single way. Push the tempo slightly, put big brass in it, make the bass hot as hell, sing the hell out of it, add a sax solo obviously. She takes such liberty with the rhythm of the vocals and it gives this whole song this great swooping and diving energy that just uplifts in such a beautiful way.

Walking Into Sunshine (Larry Levan 12” Mix) - Central Line: Something I love about this song is the crowd noise that breaks in with a ‘woo’ near the beginning. It’s such a strange little detail that instantly injects so much life and love into the track. It positions it at a party rather than a studio from the outset and somehow that mindset carries through the whole rest of the song even though the crowd noise only lasts a couple of seconds until they reconvene right at the very end.

Freedom - Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five: There was a time in the history of rap music where some kind of government mandate demanded that every song go for at least 7 minutes, so you ended up with great songs like this where they spend a good couple minutes in the middle killing time by going through everyone’s star sign and then asking the crowd their star sign too. Also they appear to have recorded their own kazoos on the track over the kazoos in the sample, which is a lesson in good production everyone take.

Freedom Funk It Up Freedom - Freedom: I was looking up where the sample on that Grandmaster Flash song Freedom was from and it turns out it’s from this band called Freedom. Easy enough. This isn’t the song Freedom samples though, this is Freedom’s other song Freedom Funk It Up Freedom. It’s fucking hot and contains maybe the livest crowd I’ve ever heard, they are just going absolutely nuts the whole time and it only helps the energy of the song which is already off the charts.

Set Guitars To Kill (Live) - And So I Watch You From Afar: For the 10th anniversary of their debut album, And So I Watch You From Afar just played the whole thing front ot back and put it out as a live album, and it’s amazing. They’re an instrumental band that’s always emphasised the rock part of post-rock, in the same space as bands like 65daysofstatic and Russian Circles but not so self-serious about it, just big honking rock and roll tunes with a surprising depth and complexity to them that never get bogged down in ambient buildups or the other space-making trappings of post-rock. Their debut album has always been my favourite of theirs because it felt the most ‘live’ and wasn’t as cleanly produced as their subsequent releases (which are still very good), and so this live version feels sort of like a definitive version for me, like this is how it was always meant to sound but they didn’t have enough fans to do the ‘woo!’ part properly yet, which is one of the most purely joyful moments in music.

Bullet The Blue Sky (Live) - U2: I saw U2 this week for the second time in my life and guess what: they’re still great. Even though they’re old as fuck and Bono is getting stranger and stranger they’ve still got it. They have a very good bit of stage design going with this current tour where for a big chunk of it they’re out on a little platform in the middle of everyone with no screens or fancy lights and it’s one of the most effective ways I’ve seen of making an arena show feel like an actual intimate experience. I was a million miles away and Bono looked like an ant more than usual but the energy still came across. Then, when they do the Joshua Tree Start To Finish part of the show they have big visuals for every song but it’s still pretty light on actual cameras on the band, which I think works really well - a sort of best of both worlds where you get the arena show but the actual band performance. This song was a highlight for me, and they’ve somehow managed to make it even more ferocious now than ever before. It got extremely noisy, far noisier than you’d ever expect from U2 at least and really amped up the swirling energy that I’ve always loved about this song. People accuse U2's politics of being too wide ranging, and it's well founded they're the prototypical 'heal the world' rock stars - even in this song and the way they've repurposed its messages to fit various political causes over the years they've tried to dilute it, but this feels to me like a song that you can't wash the meaning out of no matter how hard you try. It's one of the best and most direct criticisms of American evil put to song, and it's an arena song that doesn't particularly have an arena melody to it. Especially in the Joshua Tree/Rattle And Hum era, U2 have always been captivated by the American mythos but have never been able to completely ingratiate themselves as an American Rock Band because they're not and I think that point of difference in identity has them uniquely positioned to criticise the American mythos as well. They can have it both ways because they can't fully have it, so in this song the circle of American violence is complete in the women and children who run from the American fighter planes into the arms of America as refugees. Bono's actually mad, which is a nice change of pace from love healing the world.

Gingerly - Enemies: I love this Enemies album so much. A sweet spot between post-rock and midwest emo math guitar, and listening to it now this song really stood out in a way it hasn’t before. It turns up at a good spot in the album just as you might be getting tired of the twinkly clean guitars that characterise the rest of it and burns a hole in the speaker with that distorted bass and siren guitar sound.

You Look Certain (I’m Not So Sure) - WXAXRXP Session - Mount Kimbie: I think every band should get the chance to re-record their album a year or two after they’ve put it out, once they’ve had a chance to really sit with the songs for a while and figure out exactly how they work because this version is just so much better than the album version (which was already great!). The guitar sound is so much bigger, properly leaning into the post-punk idea they were only exploring on the album, and the vocals are so much stronger and more up front which makes it feel so much more like a full song than an experiment. This whole Warp Session EP is fantastic and I’ve been listening to it on repeat, it’s so great that they’ve morphed from this insular electronic duo into a proper band over the years and I'm excited to see where they'll take it next.

Peace To All Freaks - of Montreal: The new of Montreal single is great. Embracing an 80s dance vibe and immediately turning his back on it in the opening lines and not going out because he needs to educate himself instead. I love this song, an unironic and non-cheesy rallying against negativity which is a lot harder to do with earnesty than they make it sound here.

Taipei - Social Climbers: Thankyou to my friend and yours agrifuture for this recommendation. Social Climbers played an odd and paranoid version of art rock in the early 80s that on this song at least sounds more like modern opera trying to fit itself to a rock band than anything else. I can also say with confidence this is the only song I’ve ever heard where someone sends a quiche back in the middle of it.

Mad Eyed Screamer - The Creatures: I’ve never gotten much into Siouxie And The Bashees, they're probably somewhere on my list of bands to have a deep three week long obsession with somewhere in the future, but for now my biggest exposure to them is the time The Weeknd sampled them. I am, however, deeply interested in this drums and vocals only side project that Siouxie Sioux formed with her then-partner Budgie. I’m a big fan of any kind of restricted composition like this and I love this song. It’s so busy and the amount of reverb and extra percussion going on makes for this extremely chaotic, noisy vision of what is essentially a folk song in its lyric and melody.

Black Magic - Jarvis Cocker: I found out that the main guitar part in this song is sampled from Crimson & Clover by Tommy James and The Shondells. Which is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, a rock song like this built around a sample. Not exactly sampling in order to recontextualise across genres or approaches but sampling to recontextualise in a lateral, parallel approach. I love this song because his delivery is so feverish and impassioned it really does feel like he’s seen beyond the veil and come back without the language or capacity to explain what he saw, only the passion.

Year In Pictures - Dick Diver: Every year since this album came out it's shown up somewhere in my Spotify most listened list at the end of the year. It's surprising because I don't think of it as one of my all time favourites when it definitely is, it's such an easy listen that it just comes and goes pleasantly. This song is kind of about that feeling I guess, of things just happening and time just passing pleasantly enough year on year, everthing in its own time while the past disappears and doesn't matter anymore. "Whatever happens, I think everything will"

Heart - Bertie Blackman: I love the percussion in this song, the same propulsive clapping-centred beat that makes Single Ladies so good with the dark grinding bass underneath it that just pulses malevolently until the gearshift of the chorus where it morphs immediately into this 60s soul version of itself, with the ooh la la backing vocals and everthing, and that disonnance between the two styles drives the song for me. Where the verse lays out the evil plainly and the music matches, the chorus accentuates it in wide eyed irony "I know there's something sick with what I've been sold" sung with a smile and showgirl backing vocals.

Love Lockdown - Kanye West: Something I think we’re all learning as Kanye loses his mind completely on the world stage is that Kanye has always been insane. He has always had an unnervingly powerful self-belief and unwavering vision that has up until recently been what made him such a unique and era-defining artist. After the radical directions of MBDTF and Yeezus it’s sort of hard to remember just how radical 808s And Heartbreaks was at the time because unlike the self aware harshness and strangeness of the other two it was also so pop adjacent, because of its 80s synthpop influence but also because of the way it (and T-Pain) impacted all other pop music of the time. The instrumentation on this song is still so staggering, even just the pitched kick at the centre I could listen to on loop forever I think.

It Might Be Time - Tame Impala: Absolutely cannot wait for the new Tame Impala if this and Patience are any indication. The absolutely huge blown out drums on this are so good and remind me of something I’ve been trying to place for weeks and can’t. Maybe a Chemical Brothers song or some kind of big beat era thing. I think of Kevin Parker and Adam Granduciel from The War On Drugs as the same kind of guys, absolute craftsmen studio nerds that are completely obsessed with sound but unlike most other guys of that genre are actually great songwriters as well. Long haired studio hermits that emerge every few years to bless us all.

Never Again - Kelly Clarkson: I’ve been trying to decide whether this or Since U Been Gone is a better song and I’ve settled on this having the superior verses and Since U Been Gone the better chorus. The absolute venom in the lyrics is incredible. “I hope the ring you gave to her turns her finger green.  I hope when you’re in bed with her you think of me” is like.. the most metal opening I’ve ever heard. She literally sings “You’ll die together, but alone” in the second verse, jesus christ.

Giant Swan - The Blood Brothers: I found out recently from reading the wiki article on screamo (which like almost all wiki articles about music genres is about 60% artists claiming that genres are fake and critics coining new genre names half in jest) that The Blood Brothers were apparently part of a screamo subgenre called Sass, which is a term I have never heard before in my life and certainly never heard in the heyday of the style. You learn something every day I suppose. “It originated as an opposing style of hardcore punk to the machismo in heavy hardcore scenes. It takes influence from genres such as post-punk, new wave, disco, electronic, dance-punk, emoviolence, grindcore, metalcore and heavy hardcore. The genre is characterized by often incorporating overtly flamboyant mannerisms, erotic lyrics featuring sexual tension, and a lisping vocal style. The genre is also noted for its "spastic edge", blast beats, chaotic guitars, danceable beats and the use of synthesizers.” My understanding is that when emo went mainstream and the split between ‘emo’ as a music and ‘scene’ as a fashion occurred, this is the music that emerged from the middle ground. Turning against the masculinity of their screamo forebears and toward the queer aesthetics of scene, the resulting style was still furious and violent but furious with a light cabaret (but like, if cabaret was good and not just a guy in a top hat emoting, a different style of emo that Panic! At The Disco famously pioneered) and violent in a psychedelic, surreal way that set it apart from the depressed and black aesthetics of the rest of emo. I love The Blood Brothers and have never found another band like them in terms of lyrical inventiveness and sheer vocal insanity, the characteristic shrill falsetto that sporadically turns to screams is an amazing choice that’s incredible it works at all. This song especially stands out as unique even amongst the chaos of their discography. The loping lounge feel in the first half, coupled with the properly surreal description of the giant swan in the lyrics establishes such an strange and dark cabaret mood that makes this song so oddly singular to me.

The Ripper - The Used: I really appreciate the production on this whole album, it is so overdone and hyperactive that it creates this irrepressible momentum because something is always happening. The songs themselves are incredibly compressed in structure and extremely hook heavy, and it feels like to counteract and complement that approach they‘ve been gone over bar by bar finding every possible spot to add interest. Dynamics shifting, drums filtering and then revealing themselves, choirs appearing from this air for two lines. Guitar squeals fly in and out in the background and the bass suddenly becomes extremely chunky in parts. The whole mix gets sucked down a black hole and then a little glockenspiel outlines the vocal melody in the background for a second leading back into a huge chorus. Everything happen in this short song. It’s an interesting approach that can be overwhelming, but it has undeniable results.

Ilana - Mdou Moctar: Mdou Moctar rocks because he takes a big power chord riff like the one at the start of this song that could just as easily start a Thin Lizzy song and then immediately discards it and twists a melting solo that crosses time and space for the rest of the song instead.

Ancestral Recall (feat. Saul Williams) - Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah: The press release for this album says: “In its inception, Ancestral Recall was built as a map to de-colonialize sound; to challenge previously held misconceptions about some cultures of music; to codify a new folkloric tradition and begin the work of creating a national set of rhythms; rhythms rooted in the synergy between West African, First Nation, African Diaspora/Caribbean rhythms and their marriage to rhythmic templates found in trap music, alt-rock, and other modern forms. It is time we created a sound that dispels singular narratives of entire peoples and looks to finally represent the wealth of narratives found throughout the American experience. One that shows that all forms of expression in sound are valid, as all people are." All that and a bit of spoken word at the start that sounds like Hannibal Buress’ Morpheus Walruses rap and I’m sold. I’m such a fan of jazz like this that purposefully opens itself up to the influence of the modern world and modern tradition, and the percussion work across this album in particular is so unique and really does what he set out to do in my opinion, bringing the rhythms of tradition into a modern context seamlessly.

Spider Hole - Billy Woods & Kenny Segal: I only found out about Billy Woods this month and I’m surprised I’ve never heard of him before because he feels like the middle of the venn diagram between Earl Sweatshirt, Aesop Rock and Death Grips. This flat out sounds like a Death Grips song played at half speed. The justified paranoia and anger that runs through this whole album is palpable and jumbled, centring around a feeling of lashing out in a moment of hopelessness because you don’t know what else you can do. "4 million USD hovering over some mud huts, it's nuts, it's not the heat it's the dust" is one of the most evocative lines of the year for me.

El Toro Combo Meal (feat. Mavi) - Earl Sweatshirt: When this new earl EP came out I listened to it 4 times in a row because it is just so compulsively brilliant. He’s refining his style more and more with every release and he’s honed it to this fine point now where every song is so super dense in its lyrical content and production that a full length release would almost be too much. There’s just so much to absorb here. Mavi’s verse is incredible too. I’ve never heard of him before but I’m a big supporter now. The beats too, through this whole EP are the kind that sound like a radio stuck between stations - looping snatches of vocals and drums drowned out in tape hiss where the beat is only a suggestion that Mavi and Earl both glide over on some sort of metric modulation and only land every now and then just to take off again.

Drug Dealer - Slowthai: Slowthai is so full of fire on this song it's scary. Facing a dead end future down and screaming that something's gotta change, and that he's the one to do it.

Lighthouse (feat. Rico Nasty, Slowthai and ICECOLDBISHOP) - Take A Daytrip: I have never heard of Take A Daytrip before this song but doing some research it turns out I have heard them, because they produced Panini by Lil Nas X. I have also never heard of ICECOLDBISHOP before but the way he brings an absolutely deranged verse on this song has made me an instant fan. I love this trio of features: three out there, huge personality voices at the outer limits of mainstream rap that in their oddness complement each other perfectly.

Rich Girl - Michie One & Louchie Lou: Something I learned this month was that Rich Girl by Gwen Stefani isn't a direct rip of If I Were A Rich Man from Fiddler On The Roof, it actually samples this song which acts as a sort of bridge between the two, and I think there's something interesting in the transfer of intention between the three songs, lyrically and musically. In the original his conception of a rich man is someone who can afford to have lots of ducks and geese, eat well and have enough time to pray because he doesn't have to work, then in the Michie One & Louchie Lou version rich is being able to feed your family and start a school (as well as play the horses and never lose), and in the Gwen Stefani version rich is having a house in Hollywood and London, clearing out designer stores, and buying four Harajuku girls and naming them Love, Angel, Music and Baby. It spirals up mercilessly from geese to, I guess, human trafficking. Musically there's a transformation as well, where the jewishness of the 'daidle daidle deedle daidle dumb' in the orginal is changed to a 'na na na na na' in this version and only a part of the original melodic lilt remains, a part that is completely ironed out in the Gwen Stefani version's 'na na na na na's. The downsides of wealth morph too, in the original it's simply not a part of God's plan, in this version it can't buy love, is the root of all evil (is a  worldwide thing / rich is getting richer while the poor are getting stink) and only leads to more trouble (you reap but you never did sow / rich today you could be poor tomorrow / mind your back and watch your enemies grow) but in the Gwen Stefani version being rich is amazing on its own and the only thing that can top it is your love.

Santa Teresa - EOB: Tricked into enjoying ambient side projects once again. Ed O'Brien from Radiohead's new side project came up on my Discover Weekly without me realising it was him and I absolutely loved it. It’s expansive and cinematic and nice in a way that feels rare in ambient experimental stuff like this, to not be morose or depressing and gloomy for its own sake. It’s sharp and angular, or as sharp and angular as a song as slow moving as this can be and reminds me in part of HEALTH’s Max Payne 3 soundtrack, and Emma Ruth Rundle’s Electric Guitar One which are both masterpieces on their own.

Rough Sleeper - Burial: Reading Mark Fisher’s Ghosts Of My Life I was pleasantly surprised to see his Burial interview in there that I remember reading years and years ago before I knew who Mark Fisher was. I’ve thought of parts of that article here and there ever since and finally placing it in the wider context of Mark’s work was very satisfying, it’s funny how people come back to you in different forms over your lifetime. I don’t listen to Burial much now, or at least not as much as I used to at the height of my depression a few years ago where he was on near constant repeat and as a result his music became completely waterlogged with the feeling of that time and I couldn’t listen to him at all for a while without the memories completely marring any appreciation. But time passes as it does and it’s a nice feeling to finally be able to listen to Untrue again and not have it be so permanently soaked with memories of the worst time of my life, and now with a different mindset and viewpoint I can really see different sides of his music. Where before all I could hear was the bleak and empty future haunted by the ghosts of the past, now new colours appear - a warmth of hazy, pleasant memory and imagination. Reds and oranges creep into the black and grey and this song can feel like staying under covers while it storms outside instead of standing in the rain.

Night MXCMPV1 P74 - Venetian Snares & Daniel Lanois: I really don’t think I’ll ever hear another album like this in my life. The push and pull of the humanity of Lanois’ pedal steel and the digital nightmare of Venetian Snares percussion is just so engaging, and the moments where they overlap and move together in harmony contrast so beautifully with the times they feel like they’re playing two different songs altogether. Then they overlap, the effects overpower the steel guitar and it moves into a leaping angular digital realm and the percussion coalesces into an altogether human rush, or as human as Venetian Snares can be.

Were You There When They Crucified My Lord - Marisa Anderson: I can't find the quote but somewhere when she was doing interviews about this album Traditional And Public Domain songs, Marisa Anderson said part of the reason she likes traditional songs so much is because when she was coming up and playing in cafes around town she mistakenly thought she'd have to pay royalties if she did covers of popular songs, so she only did public domain songs instead.

Were You There When They Crucified My Lord - Johnny Cash: Another side of Were You There When They Crucified My Lord, one that expands magically into an amazing many-layered harmony led by June’s high and lonesome howl.

See That My Grave's Kept Clean - Blind Lemon Jefferson: Jefferson was buried at Wortham Negro Cemetery in 1929. His grave was unmarked until 1967, when a Texas historical marker was erected in the general area of his plot; however, the precise location of the grave is still unknown. By 1996, the cemetery and marker were in poor condition, and a new granite headstone was erected in 1997. The inscription reads: "Lord, it's one kind favour I'll ask of you, see that my grave is kept clean." In 2007, the cemetery's name was changed to Blind Lemon Memorial Cemetery, and his gravesite is kept clean by a cemetery committee in Wortham.

The Giza Power Plant - Blood Incantation: What I find so appealing about Blood Incantation is how dedicated they are. Zealots to the cult of being long haired death metal guys who wholeheartedly and sincerely believe in interdimensional aliens and the pyramids being the remnants of an ancient advanced technology. The dedication extends to them being maybe some of the best players in the genre I’ve ever heard, and them recording this whole album analog live in studio is such a feat of performance that adds another layer of intensity to this already extremely intense music.

listen here

[normal-thoughts-official]

Hey ever since u posted ur Maia x Raphael fic I've been hit with so much feelings for them so imagine my sadness when there's only your fic on ao3 that has them as a couple, also here on tumblr there's only 2 posts of them *insert sadangry emoji here*

you know what, I'm just gonna take this opportunity to

Why Maiaphael is a bomb af pairing that deserves all the love and content

A manifesto by me

Okay, so whenever i think of Maiaphael, i think of Taki's. Not (just) as the place, but as what it means for Maia, could mean for Raphael, and what that reveals about the both of them, and the absolute potential that a relationship between them has.

When Maia created Taki's, she had a very specific goal in mind: to create a place that could bring all kinds of downworlders together, where they could be safe and also build a real community together. This is explicitly said, and Maia's desire and even need to draw people together is mentioned many times, and arguably one of the core traits of her character.

She mentions how her relationship with Simon is important to her because it could bring werewolves and vampires together. She cares about and loves her pack, and wants to keep them together and safe.

Maia's been kicked out of her home, and survived abuse, not to mention she's black; she knows, better than anyone, the importance of having a strong, supportive community, and she works hard towards building one always. Taki's is a project that serves that purpose, while also allowing her to do what she loves (cooking, bartending, meeting new people).

On the last episode, they show Raphael at Taki's, talking to her, and look - we all know Raphael loves cooking, how much it means to him, and he has experience cooking for big crowds because of his volunteering. And the way that it fits is just.

First of all, we know that cooking serves pretty much that exact same purpose for Raphael. Cooking, for him, is about caring for others and bringing people closer together. This is shown by the fact that he made it a point to volunteer to cook for his sisters' elderly home, because he wanted to be able to give this to her; this is shown by the fact that when he fell in love with Izzy, the first thing he did was teach her how to cook his traditional dishes, which was clearly something very intimate and meaningful to him. This is shown by the fact that, once he's kicked out to Detroit, losing his Clan that is canonically like a family to him, he immediately started cooking at a shelter; it's a way for him to share his culture, history and feelings, and to bring people closer together, like at Taki's.

Family and community matter to Raphael as much as they do to Maia, that is very clearly what drives his character. And just the fact that he understands what Taki's is all about, what food is all about, makes Maia trust him to help her run the place. He's not only a great cook, he's someone who cares about the same things as she does, and who would pour their heart and soul into this project just like her, because he wants the same things out of it.

(Besides, doesn't hurt to have a werewolf and a vampire working together. That is half of the point, after all)

But also!!! This is so important to Raphael too, because, for so long, he's used cooking as a way to do something for others, and to repent. Food is a way to bring people together, but he does it in a way that leaves him at the sidelines. He excludes himself from the process, like he doesn't deserve the happiness it brings.

If Raphael started working at Taki's - that'd be different. Because he'd get to see the fruits of his work, to have a community he's a part of attend it, to be a part of this project. To enjoy the fruits of his labor, to see the results, to bring people together. To have a home.

I'm emo over Raphael and food again but anyway the point is that they could build such a great, trusting relationship as they worked together okay. From trying out new recipes to discussing decorations and even doing inventory, they have the same vision, they feel the same love, and they respect each other, fiercely. They're that kind of in sync where they work together without even having to look at each other, already knowing what they are doing. They handle the stress of running a restaurant together, and they enjoy it together, too.

And I'm just saying that it'd be so good for the both of them to have this kind of easy, trusting relationship? God knows Maia needs and deserves someone to trust, someone who wants her to achieve her best and get exactly what she dreams of, and Raphael needs someone as fiercely hardworking as Maia, who's willing to create the world she wants. He admires her, too, for how proactive she is, how she never gives up and does what's right. Maia admires how he can sometimes be the calm to her storm, how steadily he always steps and makes way to reach their goals. They complement each other, okay.

And speaking of complement I just gotta throw it out there that Maiaphael has huge sun/moon energy okay. In two different ways. Maia is fierce and joyful and beautiful and she shines and creates; Raphael is calm, and reliable, and through him her shine gains new, beautiful colors. Raphael is drawn to, and has been kept from, the sun. He loves it and basks in it and thrives under it. While the moon is usually associated with the sorrow of werewolves, but through Raphael, she reclaims it as part of herself.

But I can also see them the other way around - there's a melancholy about Maia, so much she hides and so much trauma she's been through, while there's a fierceness in Raphael, a neverending fight, and a room for that burning happiness that we got a glimpse of in the last episode that's been kept away. In that sense, he can also be the sun that shines through her, gives her his strength, and takes his place at the back, letting her do her own, breathtaking spectacle.

And how cool is that? They're complementary, but they're also complex, ever-changing, they rotate and create their own particular dynamic that allows them to find the best in so many sides of themselves. They can switch from one to the other when they're together, Maia can allow herself her slower, quieter days, and Raphael can find the strength to let himself shine bright, like he deserves. They get to be completely real with each other, to Contain Multitudes, and know that the other is just as vast and well equipped to support them in every role.

They're also both fiercely loyal and protective, and you know they'd do anything for each other, but they'd do it together. They'd do it side by side, not on each other's backs like we've seen so many times in the show with other couples. They'd build solutions with each other, not try to sacrifice themselves for each other. They have that kind of camraderie, and trust.

I mean, Raphael does have his self sacrificing tendencies when he gets in that mood (lmao) but that wouldn't fly with Maia. He'd try to solve a problem behind her back and she'd be furious, shove him, and tell him never to do that again, because she won't lose anyone else, and she won't have anyone trying to take the wheels of her life from her hands again. Anyone. No matter how well-intentioned. He doesn't get to decide this without her. He can't.

And Raphael apologizes, and wonder for a second how it never occured to him that he should just trust Maia to let him help her, when that's what they've been doing from the start.

And they're just so respectful of each other's boundaries in that way. Raphael knows not to try and take the lead from Maia, and he gives her space when she needs without her even needing to ask, and she does the same. She'd never pressure him to give her anything sexual, not even a single peck, and still be so undeniably affectionate. They would support each other without being overbearing, be able to allow each other their silence, their musings, their trauma and pain.

Raphael would also want fiercely for Maia to follow her dream of studying marine biology, I just know it, and support her through it in so many ways. Taking some of her responsibilities at Taki's when it's time for midterms. Helping her study. Going to hers with groceries, making sure she's eating, and drinking water, that her place is well ventilated and that she's okay. I have very soft images in my head of Maia sitting with her back to Raphael's chest, focused on her book, as he just strokes her hair, rubs her shoulders, and lets her study. It's good and nice and he is just there for her, silently helping make sure that she doesn't lack anything, that she can relax.

Also, as both of them are leaders of their people, there is so much they can share and understand about that, and even more beautiful things they can build together in that sense.

It's the kind of love that blossoms as steadily as their relationship, sure and deep and slow, with strong foundations, and infinite care. By the time they notice it's happened, they've already become an integral part not only of each other's life, but of each other's happiness. They come to care for each other, and trust each other, and be a part of each other, before they even realize what's happening. When the penny drops, it's almost funny, the both of them a little breathless by the fact that oh, they've fallen in love. And Maia asks, "what are we?" and Raphael says "something important," and Maia laughs and asks if that means he could be her boyfriend.

"Yeah," Raphael says, smiling, private but real and all for her, "yeah," and he takes her hand and kisses it. She kisses his hand back, and he's charmed, and happy, and their hands stay together over the table as they share nothing but joy and silence. The moment is steady and happy, just like them, and it feels perfect.

[creatingnikki]

Dearest Samantha,

You were the first person to participate in The Love Project but I’ve waited so long to write your letter because I love reading your answers. I kid you not. I’ve read them about 5 times over this month and they majorly make me feel two things. First, like the universe it opening up all these channels of hope, strength, positivity and sweetness for everyone who is willing to give life another shot. Second, what if…just what if the eerie poem ‘The Egg’ by Andy Weir is true? I don’t know if you have read this before but if not, please do. It blew my mind in an unexpected way.

Once you read the poem, what I say now will make sense. Everything you said about what you’ve been feeling and experiencing is 100% true for me. If not all at this moment but in fragments at different points in time. And the form may be different but the feeling that washes over me, for some reason I believe that it’s the same that washes over you.

I’ll share something with you that I haven’t really with many of my friends but there’s this thing…Ever since I was 14 years old I couldn’t wait to move out of my parents’ home and live by myself. No, they are great parents and my sister is the best too. I don’t know if it was the romanticisation of living by yourself or the emo phase that made me feel like I can’t live my true life unless I move out. Now, when I finished high school, I didn’t get to move away for college. The best college for what I wanted to study ended up being in my home city and I got in and it didn’t make sense to give up that opportunity for a sub-standard college elsewhere. After I got done with college, it made no sense to leave Mumbai – the city everyone from all over the country dreams of coming and living in –and move to some random city for work. So, I never quite left home. It’s never going to be acceptable to live in the same city as my parents and not live with them. It’s an Indian thing. And until even last year, I was like ugh how can I move out? But something changed over those last few months.

Now, somehow, over the last few months I started to notice things and realised what you did. The exact same thing you did: “My life, right now, is the epitome of ;perfection. From a ‘fight’ with my sister, I have learned what has been true all along. That my immediate family really would do anything for me. Mum’s favourite song is ‘Grenade’ not for the melody but for the words, the lyrics. She, dad and my sister really would do anything for me. How has it taken me this long to fully realise this.” Other than my mom’s favourite song, haha.

I can’t explain it to anyone else what changed and why. And I realise that I don’t even have to. People look for people who will genuinely care about them and love them unconditionally all their life. And I, and you, we have those people, we had them right from the start. I’ve never quite had that luck with friendships or romantic relationships (as of now), but that’s fine. I think, and it’s a silly childish belief, but I think everyone has at least 2-3 people in the world who are theirs.

Ever since I was 13, I have been looking for people to have interesting and meaningful conversations about the things that matter. And it took me forever to realise that I had that person all along – my sister.

The way you described, “The decade(s) that will be successful, joyful have started. Nevermind the twentieth century, this decade will be my roaring twenties and I really hope all of my relatives, friends and peers will have the same.” makes me highly recommend this song to you: Start by Gaho. It’s Korean but it has English subtitles and gosh. I think if I had to choose a song to run in the background of your letter as the theme, I would pick this. (I am listening to it on loop while writing this, btw.) This song is used in my current favourite Korean drama – Itaewon Class – about a boy who is 100% determined to make his life be everything he wants it to be no matter how much resistance he faces.

Another way I relate to you?  “I make up new words all the time. For example, electronically….” My sister was literally teasing me about it yesterday when I was speaking gibberish to annoy her. I usually just combine stuff from the three languages I know and it’s fun. Cracks me up all the time, if not anyone else. But, hey, electronically is, in fact, a word, so am I missing something here? O.O

One thing that’s totally different is that I have never been to a concert. I don’t think there’s any one artist that I 100% love to go to a crowded place with hyper-excited people.

How is it that the people who we don’t want us to hurt ever are the ones who end up doing it so masterfully? I understand the need to be guarded. And I am so glad that nobody has ever shattered your heart again. But I do hope when someone can make you feel loved – romantically and wholly – you can let them in. It’s no fun at all…going through life guarded.

Emotionless

A wall between emotion and intellect Analyse the behaviour of others, Analyse the wrongs of life, Soon you will feel a disconnect You can never be hurt behind your wall You can never be whole behind your wall

That’s a poem – not verbatim, out of my memory – by someone I cared about deeply years ago. He ghosted me too. The question of why can make me go crazy even now if I let myself go down that rabbit hole but I don’t. I try to retain this poem in the most positive light. Because he, his behaviour, his interactions with me, meant something and this poem of his that he shared with me just always stayed with me. I could never become emotionless, I could never feel a disconnect. I was hurt, often, yes. But I was also whole. I am, for the most part. I know you are too.

What you said about love - Love has no gender, no binary, no stereotypes. If you look at humans behind an X-ray screen kissing, you see the same skeletal frame each time – should be poetry. Sounds like it to my heart.

Sending so much love to you, and to your fur siblings, Darcy, Chloe and Poppy. Let’s live our roaring twenties the way they are meant to be lived – fully, fiercely, and earnestly. Nikki

PS No, daebak is not a word I made up, haha. It means awesome, cool, impressive in Korean. And you honestly are daebak! <3

I wrote this letter for Samantha based on some questions they answered. You can read the questions and their answers here.

Guys - I have received 29 people’s responses for The Love Project - 29 days of love letters. So I won’t be accepting anymore, however, you can read other letters here.

I may do this again later in the year and if you would want to receive a love letter from me then, you can drop in your email ID here xoxo