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[iheartsteve0704]

Agathario | Modern Day - Separation AU

Nicholas is still alive but due to work, high stress, and misunderstanding Agatha and Rio feel like they’ve been drifting apart and somehow land on a separation

None of them want this but their communication has been so poor lately and in the midst of a heated fight, they gaslight themselves into thinking each other wants this

They don’t know if this is heading towards divorce, they hope not, but they give each other the space

They still live in the same house, for Nicholas’s sake, and act normal around him but tension is high and it feels like they are walking on egg shells

Rio sleeps in their bedroom and Agatha sleeps down the hall (the older woman doesn’t slip into that room until she’s certain Nicky has gone to sleep, but he knows because sometimes he sneaks into bed with Rio and cuddles up with her)

They also somehow land upon that it’s okay to see other people during this time (both don’t even explore this fact because it’s insane but one night Agatha has her friend JEN over during wine night and she tries to convince her to download Tinder and if Rio runs into her room and cries well she’d never admit that)

Around 2 months later, they have to attend a party they greed to go to months ago and get ready in the same house but separate rooms while Nicky goes to their neighbor Lila’s (shoutout Lilia!!!)

Agatha passes by their room and notices Rio struggling to zip up the back and Rio is able to sense Agatha watching her through the crack in the door so she asks her to come in and zip it (and maybe Agatha stares too long at her smooth skin and relishes in the way Rio shiver at the graze of her knuckles down her spin)

Agatha also relishes in the fact that Rio’s eyes cast over her body in their vanity mirror because she knows this is Rio’s favorite dress on her and maybe she wore it on purpose

They leave in separate cars, even though after the dress indecent Agatha offers her a ride and tries not to throw up at the fact that Rio is getting picked up by a friend who Agatha knew had a big crush on her wife

At the party, they keep their distance from each other but their eyes can’t help but land on one another

Agatha stares too hard when Rio’s friend clings to her side as the younger woman works the room (Agatha was never one to smooze but was happy to admire her wife while she does so, now she watches this other woman (younger and Agatha thinks prettier) fill her spot for her)

Rio has to take a cigarette break when she sneaks a peak at Agatha at the bar area, where she sees a guy trying to talk her up and even moves to tuck a piece of her tousled hair behind her ear (what Rio doesn’t see because she leaves is the way Agatha steps back in disgust and holds up her left hand up revealing her wedding band)

After this, Agatha ends up going outside too and bumps right into Rio making her cig fall onto the floor and burn out. Rio has a curse word for the offender on the tip of her tongue until she turns around and sees her wife

They stare at each other, tension so thick you can cut it with a knife after all that jealousy inside.

Then it’s Rio who puts her hand on the curve of Agatha’s waist and Agatha moves in closer to cup Rio’s soft cheek. They’re like magnets, pulling closer to each other, until a car pulls into the parking lot and the moment is gone and Agatha quickly is moving back inside

The rest of the party consists of the two longingly gazing at each other across the room and no one really exists around them

At the end of the night, Agatha is drunker than she should be (considering she has to drive) and is being borderline harassed by the man at the bar who insists he drive her home

Rio wanted to step in from the moment he looked at her wife earlier but doesn’t until she hears her wife say “Don’t touch me” and she springs into action and decks him in the jaw while saying some words in Spanish that aren’t very kind

The words “TOCUH MY FUCKING WIFE AGAIN AND YOULL BE SORRY BUDDY. ILL END YOU, I PROMISE” fall out of her mouth loudly and Rio means every word, eyes blazing with anger

The gross man laughs at her and makes a comment about Rio not being by Agatha’s side all night and Rio lunges at him to hit him again

It’s Agatha who pulls Rio back after they draw a crowd and walks them to Agatha’s car

When they arrive to the vehicle, away from prying eyes, Rio takes the key from the older woman and looks at her with concerned eyes. She scans the woman with worry. She asks “did he touch you? Hurt you? I swear to god I’ll go back there and k*ll him. If he even tried anything with you I will-“ but she can’t finish that sentence because Agatha kisses her with so much longing and passion tears slip from both their eyes

Rio drives them home, one hand on the steering steaming wheel and the old holding her wife’s hand (they are both absolutely beaming)

When they get home they silently agree to go into their shared bedroom, strip down and just hold each other in bed while they fall asleep in each others arms

In the morning, they have hard conversations but it’s real and they need it and they finally understand their problems and how to fix it and laugh at the fact that neither wanted a separation and maybe have incredible makeup sex

After they shower, and do unholy things in there, they end up in the kitchen and dance and laugh around the sun filled room while they cook and can’t keep their hands off each other

Nicky comes in through the back door and sees his moms happy again, running into their arms and they embrace him with equal enthusiasm because their family is whole again

[5ueckers]

but i'm a cheerleader

pairing : paige bueckers x cheerleader!reader

warnings : smut. semi–public sex.

notes : this is highkey unrealistic af so don't think too hard abt it! also i got kinda lazy while proofreading and editing, so there may be some errors/might feel a bit clunky at times, sorry in advance 🫠

words : 2148

xl center erupts with screams and applause as the final buzzer rings out— the university of connecticut’s women’s basketball team, for the tenth game in a row, has come out victorious, winning with a whopping forty–seven points over their competitors.

you jump up from where you’ve been sitting cross–legged at the baseline of the court and shake your bright red pom–poms, yelling out one of your cheers. the rest of the girls follow suit after you, their captain, perfectly in sync as the pep band begins to play the uconn husky fight song.

you’re never not tired as hell at the end of a game— the exhaustion from your halftime performance starting to set in and your head dully aching from your tight half–up–half–down hairstyle— but none of that ever deters you. you’re captain for a reason, bringing sharp precision, clean lines, and high energy to every performance, whether its on a court, field, or stage.

but of course, even the best of best have their weaknesses.

yours has actually landed you in trouble before, just once— you missed a whole count because you were distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes watching you intently from uconn’s bench, her intrigued expression being replaced by a smirk once she realized she’d caused your mishap. coach really chewed you out next practice, but you got got the blue–eyed girl’s number after that game, so it was honestly kind of worth it.

your post–game cheer earns its own round of applause from the remaining fans in the stands, and you bow, shaking your poms the whole way back to the baseline, where your coach awaits you. she offers a few nice jobs and back pats, as well as a fair share of critiques, before finally telling you all you’re free to go.

while the rest of your team head for the cheer locker room, you start toward the opposite direction. “y/n?!” one of your teammates calls out after you, confused.

“go on, i’ll meet you guys later!” you reply, before running to meet paige at the other side of the court, by the stands.

there’s still a large crowd of fans waiting to take pictures and have their jerseys signed by your girlfriend, but once she notices you approaching, she yells out, “alright, y’all, that’s it for tonight! thanks for coming!”

her voice softens when she turns to you and smiles, “hey.”

“hey, you,” you say gingerly, hyper–aware of the cameras fixed on paige, and so also you, by extension.

she nods her head in the direction of the arena’s large exit doors, silently instructing you to follow her.

you keep a safe distance while you’re still in the presence of the fans and cameras and the media, but as soon as you’re both in the tunnel, so dark that no one can see you, paige is all over you. her hands fly to your waist if they’re under the control of a magnetic pull as her lips press to yours, gasping into your mouth. you shudder as you melt into the kiss, into her, throwing your arms around her neck. you part your lips, allowing her to lick into your mouth— you want her to eat you alive.

“you were so good out there,” you tell her once you part, voice breathy.

paige grins cockily, already knowing that she played well, and you can see that your red lipstick has transferred onto her mouth, making you laugh. “what? what’s funny?” she questions, confused but chuckling a bit herself.

you shake your head. “nothing, just—” you point at your own lips, which you’re sure have also gotten smudged. “you’ve got something.”

“ah,” she rolls her eyes, genuinely sounding irked, which only makes you laugh harder. “well, you’ve got something—”

she cuts herself off by simply kissing you again, a light peck, taking your hand into hers soon after she separates your bodies.

high on the rush of the win and each other, you two walk hand–in–hand to the women’s locker room— only to be met with aubrey, crouched at her locker as she finishes packing up her things. if not your lipstick literally being smeared all over paige’s lips, then the flush on both of your faces and the way you freeze and suddenly drop each other’s hands, even though both of your teams are aware of your relationship and you have nothing to hide, certainly tells the older girl everything she needs to know.

she simply stuffs a few more of her things into her bag before heading out, lightly punching paige on the shoulder and laughing as she passes by, “see y’all!”

one you hear the door close, you and paige just look at each other before bursting into giggles at the interaction. “she’s never gonna let me live that down.” the blonde groans, wrapping her arms around your waist again.

you just laugh, falling quiet as you find yourself lost in her eyes for the nth time since you first met her. those eyes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. she gets kind of sheepish whenever you look at her for too long, avoiding your gaze and blushing— you’re not sure why, she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. “i love you.” you say, very seriously.

“i love you, too, y/n,” she responds, just as earnest, and leans in to kiss you, only to be stopped.

“wait,” you say, reaching up and finally taking that godforsaken ponytail down, feeling all the tension in your head release as soon as you do. you drop the hair tie and bow to the ground, haphazardly brushing your hair out of your face with your fingers as it falls out of the style.

“god, you’re so fucking pretty,” the blonde marvels aloud, before finally kissing you again.

your lips move together languidly as her hands move down until they’re cupping your ass, kneading the soft flesh in her palms. “paige,” you whine into her mouth, allowing your head to roll back as her lips trail wet, open–mouthed kisses from your jawline all the way down your exposed collarbones.

“yeah, baby?” she replies and then sucks harshly at a particularly sensitive spot, making you whimper.

“want you,”

“here?” she pulls back slightly to scan the locker room— everyone else’s belongings are gone, it’s just her bag and shoes left in front of her storage space. still, someone may have forgotten something and could easily walk in on you while trying to find it. “someone could see—”

you don’t care. you pull paige back in, connecting your lips again, pushing your tongue into her mouth and kissing her with the kind of fervor that makes it impossible for her to deny you. she guides you backwards until your back is pressed to the one navy blue wall that isn’t lined with lockers, her hands feeling you all over.

her fingertips find their way to the hem of your tiny skirt, pulling up until the fabric is bunched up high on your hips, revealing the even smaller red safety shorts you’re required to wear under your uniform. she steps back briefly to give you some space so you can push them and your panties down your legs, kicking them aside, before she slots her thigh between your legs. already knowing exactly what to do from experience, you grind down against her thigh, and it feels so good when you clit drags against her bare skin, you whimper and repeat the motion again and again.

paige uses one hand to hold you steady with a strong grip on your waist, while the other works at pushing up the top piece to your uniform and bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the locker room. she immediately leans down to suck and lick at one of your firm nipples while rolling over the other with her free thumb. the sounds are obscene— your moans, paige’s slurping, and the squelch of your wet pussy rubbing against her thigh all coming together to fill the room.

“fuck, p,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut. “so good.”

paige releases your nipple from her mouth with low groan, briefly licks at the other, before standing upright. she leans in, dangerously close and she whispers into your ear, “i can feel it, y’know. you really want my fingers that bad?”

you blush, flustered by her referring to the way your pussy keeps clenching against her thigh, showing how needy you are, but still nod. “need it, paige, please,” you whimper, hoping she’ll give in quicker if you beg for it.

you’re proven correct, because your girlfriend plants a quick kiss on your cheek, murmuring, “anything for my girl,” before removing her thigh from between your legs, dropping down to her knees and crouching in front of you. ever the tease, she starts by kissing at your thighs, whispering sweet nothings into your skin— beautiful, so pretty, good girl, all mine.

and then two of of her long, slender fingers are prodding at your entrance, easing in nice and slowly. your pussy clenches around the digits, welcoming her inside like an old friend, your walls slick and velvety.

you allow your head to tip back against the wall, eyes closing again, “oh my god.” paige knows your body so well, knows just how to angle her fingers and jab at that sweet spot inside you, the one that makes you cry every time. she adds her mouth to the mix, kitten–licking at your clit before sucking it into her mouth, sending shivers up your spine.

“i’m close,” you cry out, and paige hums against you encouragingly, sending vibrations all throughout your core.

what really has you tipping over the edge is the look in her eyes when you finally will yours open, staring up at you with such adoration as she gets you off. you always said those eyes would be the death of you; your kryptonite. you nearly fold over as your orgasm hits you, legs shaking as the pleasure ebbs throughout your whole body, sobbing out your girlfriend’s name.

“you good?” paige chuckles, amused by your struggling. her lips, covered in your cum and arousal, plus your lipstick from earlier, are glistening in the fluorescent lighting of the locker room— the sight is so hot, you almost feel ready to orgasm again. almost.

“y–yeah, i just—” you swallow thickly, heaving. “need a minute.”

paige’s hands grip your hips, holding you steady until she feels you’re able to stand on your own. only when she’s certain you won’t topple over does she let go of you, sweetly kissing you on your forehead when she stands up. “i’ll be right back, wait here,” she tells you, disappearing momentarily.

“dude! i look fucking insane!” you hear her yell out, making you laugh weakly. you figure she’s found a mirror.

she returns with a wet hand towel, having washed off her mouth, hands, and thigh. she’s gentle as she cleans you up, knowing you’re still sensitive. then, she grabs your panties and shorts from off the carpeted floor, bending over and holding them at your ankles to help you re–dress.

“wait, but i wanted to do you, too,” you whine, a genuine pout setting in on your face as you step back into the panties.

paige shakes her head. “when we get home,” she offers. “i don’t wanna… defile this place any more than we already have.”

you laugh, again, at her choice of words. paige helps you get back into your shorts, as well, and you pull your skirt, bra, and top back down to their regular positions, smoothing over your uniform with the palms of your hands, trying to look at least a little bit presentable for when you walk out of here. paige wanders off toward her locker, changing out of her uniform.

finally feeling stable enough to walk, you find your hair tie and bow on the ground, rolling the former onto your wrist. “wait, c’mere,” you wave paige over, just as she’s pulling a fresh t–shirt over her head.

“hm?” she hums as she approaches, but you just motion for her to lean down a bit. she complies, and you place your bright red bow in her hair, right at the top of her ponytail.

“awww,” you gush at the sight. paige just looks at you, trying her best to appear unimpressed, but you can see the smile playing at her lips. “so pretty! cheer captain!”

she spends all of thirty seconds pretending like she’s not enjoying this, before breaking out into a dance, very poorly imitating your cheer routine from earlier. you encourage her, nonetheless, clapping and cheering, “go paige! go paige!”

she finishes with a ridiculously complex move that you’re pretty sure belongs to some tiktok dance learned recently with kk, grinning, “how was that?”

“10/10, hands down!”

[jokeroutsubs]

[📝ENG Translation]: Souvenir Pop Through the Eyes of Joker Out Members

Original article written by Boštjan Tušek, published 27.11.2024 on 24ur. Photos by Miro Majcen. English translation by @kurooscoffee, review by drumbeat, proofread IG GBoleyn123.

Full translation under the cut 👇

We visited Joker Out in their rehearsal space, where the band members shared their thoughts on their new album and explained all the songs from their third full-length album, Souvenir Pop, in their own words. The album has already been released on digital platforms and CDs, and they are promising a vinyl edition as well.

About the Title SOUVENIR POP:

Bojan: We were sitting here in the rehearsal space, struggling to find a short, universally understandable way to summarise everything that happened to us during this time. After some serious thought, we realised that the music is essentially a collection of memories—“souvenirs”—that we’ve gathered. For the first time in our lives, we traveled so much and spent so much time away from home. Everything was very “pop,” and we lived out all the pop star dreams we used to admire. We shortened this journey into “pop,” making it a souvenir pop journey.

Photo: Joker Out recently unveiled their third album, Souvenir Pop. Together with Bojan, Kris, Jan, Nace, and Jure, we analysed all the songs on the album. PHOTO: Miro Majcen.

On the Cover Photo Taken in Bed:

Jure: The cover photo was born long before the album got its title. It was captured on the morning of the semifinals last May in Liverpool. We kept it under wraps for almost a year and a half. We liked it already back then and immediately thought it could one day work as an album cover. When we started looking for a cover, it still best reflected our feelings.

Bojan: It was taken on an iPhone during the filming of a promotional video, so basically a completely randomly captured moment.

On the “Circus” Surrounding Them Because of the New Album:

Kris: What's particularly noticeable is the mental and emotional fragmentation. The songs are quite diverse and colourful, and at first glance, they didn’t seem to belong on the same album. But as Bojan said, they remind us of fridge magnets, which perhaps reflects that we were “all over the place,” and that we were exploring ourselves on a broader musical, lyrical, and instrumental level than usual.

Nace: You can tell the songs are “hyped up” because we were in that mindset. Different things influence you, and it would have been quite different if we had stayed home for a month before that instead of being on tour.

PHOTO: Miro Majcen.

On Lack of Time:

Kris: We had to intentionally carve out time to write and record songs. We spent two months in London, a month in Hamburg, and last year we took a week in Kočevje to work on 'Everybody’s Waiting'. Carpe Diem took 14 days. We were maybe even under a bit of pressure, knowing we had to produce something.

On Three Languages on the Album:

Bojan: We spent a lot of time with all three languages; speaking, listening, and thinking in them. The stories naturally emerged in all three languages, and we didn’t resist that because it would have been truly foolish.

I see language as just another tool for conveying information, like how a specific guitar effect suits one song but not another.

PHOTO: Miro Majcen.

On Egos:

Bojan: Egos have to clash because they’re an important part of our drive. I wouldn’t say our egos fight; they occasionally disagree, but everything generally moves in the same direction—to create something the five of us like. We have a healthy dose of competitiveness, and we’ve never truly had a fight. We separate the person from the musician, which I think is important.

Kris: There was never much ego, but for this album, we threw out what little was left. On this record especially, we faced moments where someone else did something on your instrument that you should have done. But that opened new possibilities and ideas—a fresh perspective. This happened to all of us except Bojan with vocals.

Kris: Today, a friend sent me a message from Venice; they were playing 'Carpe Diem'. Last year, we made it onto the top 40 charts of a Lithuanian radio station. PHOTO: Miro Majcen.

Comments on the songs from the album SOUVENIR POP:

1. MUZIKA ZA DECU (Serbo-Croatian):

Bojan: When the idea came to me, I was thinking about how much I liked what was coming out of the speakers; quite grown up. Then I had a flash of cynicism and sarcasm: it’s all just for girls, for kids. Hence, “muzika za decu” (music for children). Initially, it was called Zlatna kosica (Golden hair), haha. I wrote the intro, then improvised the rest of the lyrics in Hamburg while we were playing it.

Nace: You might have changed two words.

Kris: The intro I play on guitar was originally done by Bojan on the piano. While recording, I was strumming along, imagining a piano intro. But when we listened to it later, everything felt so wrong that we started liking it. That’s how it stayed. We recorded it all together in one room, in one go.

Bojan: Žare was thrilled that he had to “clean up” the vocals (laughs), which we recorded in the kitchen.

Jure: This is one of the songs which features guest performers; a children’s choir at the end.

Nace: The kids from our crew and their relatives sang. The first group sang too in tune, so we recorded another group that was a bit less perfect. In the end, we combined the two recordings, and it turned out just right. There were about 15 to 20 kids altogether.

Jan: The guitar sound came from my Whammy pedal, which the producer Žare Pak didn’t always like, haha.

Nace: We have to commend Žare for producing in such a way that everything unnecessary is stripped away. He never hides anything like some other producers might.

PHOTO: Miro Majcen.

2. ŠTA BIH JA (Serbo-Croatian):

Kris: This was the first song we created in London. Within a week, we already had the structure, though it initially resembled Bijelo Dugme. Some elements were later removed.

Nace: Yeah, Žare came in and said, “Guys, this is unnecessary” (laughs).

Kris: His reaction was hilarious. When he heard it, he said, “Did I send you to the UK to make yugo music?!” (laughs). It was our first Balkan reaction to being foreigners in a foreign country, and it just poured out of us. Bojan already had the lyrics “šta bih ja u ovoj crnoj noći bez tebe radio” (what would I do in this dark night without you), and we recorded it.

Bojan: I actually prefer hearing my voice in Serbo-Croatian over Slovenian, the position of the voice seems more natural.

Jure: It's interesting how the colour of Bojan's voice changes with different languages, which is actually quite normal.

Kris: Yeah, Bojan, in a 'Balkan language,' your rocker alter ego comes out even more, I think.

PHOTO: Miro Majcen.

3. CARPE DIEM (Slovenian):

Bojan: This is the original souvenir. And pop. It’s hard to believe how one song can change everything for you like that. It’s literally just one of our songs; not necessarily better than the others, maybe not even one of my favourites. But as our Eurovision entry, it perfectly conveyed our message. The whole story and image of the band are captured in those three minutes. It’s an excellent channel for our energy, which got people to believe in us and become interested.

Kris: Today, a friend sent me a message from Venice; they played 'Carpe Diem' there. Last year, we were on the Lithuanian radio top 40 charts.

Bojan: The most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen in my life was when an older Mongolian singer and his band played and sang Carpe Diem live at a reception for our president, Nataša Pirc Musar, in Ulaanbaatar. We also received a recording from Zanzibar, where someone played it on a hotel terrace.

Bojan: I wouldn’t say our egos fight; they occasionally disagree, but everything generally moves in the same direction—to create something we all like. PHOTO: Miro Majcen.

4. STEPHANIE (English):

Bojan: Of course, Stephanie isn’t really Stephanie, but these are real people who exist.

Jure: I didn’t have any part in this one since there are no drums; everything is programmed (laughs).

Nace: Yeah, everything was done by Casio, haha.

Kris: For many songs, we had a sample beat to practice with, and in some cases, it stayed in the final version. 'Stephanie' is one of those songs as well.

5. AKO TOGA VIŠE NEČE BITI (Serbo-Croatian):

Bojan: You believe in Santa Claus until you realise he doesn’t exist. It’s the same with love; until something destroys everything so thoroughly that you simply stop believing in it. This is a song about very raw disappointment with love.

Nace: I’m in a long-term relationship, and when you leave home, it’s a sacrifice both partners make. In the spirit of it being good for both of you and your partner supports it, everything is okay.

Kris: Full respect to your partner for enduring how you went from ‘zero to a hundred’ in six months.

Nace: We have to commend Žare for producing in such a way that everything unnecessary is stripped away. PHOTO: Miro Majcen

6. BLUZA (Serbo-Croatian):

Bojan: I wrote 'Bluza' a long time ago, up to the chorus, about three years ago. For a long time, nothing happened with it until I presented it to the guys on an acoustic guitar. From there, it developed quickly, in a day or two. We even played it on tour before its release. Initially, it was more guitar-driven than it is now. The title, 'Bluza', literally just comes from the lyric “u ritmu tvoga bluza” (in the rhythm of your blues), but I quite like it.

Jan: A lot of our songs are titled after a phrase from the first verse that has no connection to the chorus.

Bojan: Similarly, back in university, my friends kept nagging me about 'Gola' (Naked), why we gave it that title, but nobody thought of the phrase “za naju” (for us), haha.

Kris: It’s probably because, during the creative process, we repeat the first part a lot, and that phrase naturally becomes the title.

Bojan: The story of a song always takes shape in the first verse.

PHOTO: Miro Majcen

7. LIPS (English):

Bojan: We heard there’s a lot of money in music for films, so the song sounds like an apocalyptic ballad (laughs). Initially, it was quite Franz Ferdinand-esque. We even considered a duet with a French singer but didn’t have a clear vision, so we dropped the idea. Later, Žare and I restructured it, and then Nace tied everything together into a cohesive piece.

Jure: The song went through quite a few iterations.

Nace: Originally, it was a completely different song called 'Je t'aime'.

PHOTO: Miro Majcen

8. MESTO DUHOV (Slovenian):

Bojan: Trumpeter Luka Ipavec collaborated on this track, adding trumpet parts to the choruses. We created it in England and named it after the street we were living on; it had quite a dark vibe. Initially, the song was about a girl who cheated on me, leading to my suicide. Then we introduced the “papapapa” part, creating an atmosphere of a funeral, a procession. When we decided the song should be in Slovenian, we tied it to how the current social climate feels incredibly negative overall. People are always ready to quickly react to something negative. It’s no longer pleasant to go outside; everything reflects the weight of what’s happening around us. There’s unfortunately an air of superficiality around us.

Jan: The solo came to life in Hamburg. Later, when we were finishing the songs, I had the idea to rhythmically slice the solo so that it spells out “baby boo” in Morse code.

Jan: A lot of our songs are titled after a phrase from the first verse that has no connection to the chorus. PHOTO: Miro Majcen

9. SONCE (Slovenian):

Jan: I play the keyboards on this one. Bojan had already outlined the song on guitar with chords. The idea was to create something orchestral, like in 'Novi val'. I, however, approached it differently and arranged the piano part. I showed Bojan a melody that, in my view, reflects the essence of the song.

Bojan: This song is a direct reaction to events in Palestine. It’s the story of a deceased son speaking to his mother. It’s undoubtedly the most emotionally heavy song on the album. The structure is also unconventional; no part repeats, and the chorus appears only once. Jan captured perfectly what the vocals are saying with his piano part. It’s like a haiku, a single thought; not a classic pop song. Jan nailed the final take on his first try.

Kris: We could quickly get stuck creatively if everyone only insisted on their own instruments. Many songs only broke through when someone pressed something different. There were many moments where we needed that kind of freshness.

PHOTO: Miro Majcen

10. EVERYBODY’S WAITING (English):

Kris: This was a song we didn’t know what to do with until Žare offered the most basic beat, and Jan started working with the Rhodes electric piano, which set the direction for the album.

Bojan: Jan picked up the Rhodes out of nowhere and according to Žare, he plays better than 90 percent of Slovenian keyboardists (laughs).

Kris: Žare’s modus operandi is to break your conventional thinking and enhance your intuition. He believes intuition is superior to thinking.

PHOTOS: Miro Majcen

[thefrontofmymind]

Over The Balcony Wall (matty healy x reader)

a/n: hey yall i apologise i kinda half arsed this, but in return i promise more shit coming probably friday okay any feedback is greatly appreciated kisses xxxx

PROMPT: Flirting from hotel balconies

WARNINGS: tiny mention of alcohol consumption, also reader is very often on the brink of a panic attack lol (aren't we all?)

You’d been at your wits end with work. With being pulled left and right by everyone around you, the seemingly endless hours, and the pressure of single handedly organising successful project after successful project, you were due for a break and your supervisor thought the same thing. You managed to scrounge for a ten-day holiday in Barcelona, with not a single thought of logging in to your email or opening your laptop.

At first you were concerned you’d be lonely–you hadn’t spent so long alone, in a city where you didn’t know a soul, but as you settled, you realised it was better to relish in the quiet, there was no one around so you didn’t feel the need to keep up any expectation of you, and you could simply be.

Your days were spent lounging at the hotel pool, going between reading the small collection of novels you’d brought with you, and cooling off by floating in the water–eyes closed and breathing even.

You spent most nights in your room. After dinner at whatever restaurant the hotel reception would recommend to you that night, you’d make your way back and take in the city skyline on your balcony; you could spend hours just people-watching from your fifth-floor haven.

It was on your seventh night that your silent sanctuary was corrupted. As the sun was setting–quite late since it was Spain in the middle of summer–you could hear music–a guitar playing–from the balcony next to you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on the song–you’re pretty sure you’d heard it before, and it all-but entranced you. Note after note, it was methodical, and a little repetitive, but you couldn’t help but listen to it. There was a few minutes of fiddling, and you could hear the player ‘um’ing and ‘ah’ing from over the privacy wall that separated your two balconies, and you could smell cigarette smoke as well. 

There was a lull of no music, no sounds of someone deep in thought, and before your brain could catch up to what your mouth was doing, you spoke. “You’re very good at that.”

There was a moment of silence before you got an answer. A moment of kicking yourself, because who just speaks to a stranger over a balcony wall and compliments their guitar playing?

“Me?” The voice asked. An English accent, northern, you’d say.

You cringed at the interaction before you, certainly out of the ordinary. “Yes, you. You’re a very good guitar player.”

Maybe it was the couple cocktails you’d had with dinner that gave you the confidence, but it seemed to work in your favour. You heard a chuckle before receiving a reply. “Thanks, I’d like to hope I’m good at it, ‘ts kinda part of my job to be good at music-y things.”

There was a hesitation in the man’s comment, like he was unsure if he should be telling you anything about him. Though you couldn’t blame him, you were the weirdo who began speaking to him from the next balcony over at a random hotel in Barcelona. But there was a certain magnetism to the whole situation, you didn’t want to stop talking, maybe it was boredom, or loneliness, you weren’t sure.

You felt unease, like you’d struck a nerve there, and you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“I’m a singer in a band,” he continued. “And I play guitar.”

“Anything I would’ve heard?” You tried to place the voice, trying to think if you’d heard him before, though you were coming up blank.

“We’ve had a bit of radio play,” he said, and you could hear the smirk as he spoke–you theorised he was downgrading just a touch. “And…we’ve won a couple BRITs too…”

You were in shock. “No kidding! Who are you?” you asked with a genuine mixture of humour, awe and inquisitiveness. You didn’t mean to pry, and there wasn’t that sinking feeling that you’d overstepped a line with what you said, but the faceless voice didn’t reply–at least not after letting out a small chuckle under his breath. “Hellooo? You still with me?”

“Yeah, yeah, um-” He took a breath, while you held yours in anticipation, with an added twinge of fear that you’d committed a social faux pas. “Why don’t you come over? So we can get to know each other?”

There was an air about the way he said it–there was certain entitlement, like he knew you would say yes. And you just couldn’t let this complete stranger win this game. This unspoken game.

“I don’t know…” you began. “I’ve had a bit to drink, don’t think I can’t smell the weed, it wouldn’t be right.”

Again, silence. It seemed to be his specialty. You heard him shuffle in the chair you assumed he was sitting in–most definitely a carbon copy of the one you’d gotten comfortable in.

“No, yeah–you’re right. I wouldn’t want to go about something if you weren’t comfortable…” he trailed off.

There was a sense of awkwardness–and right after you thought you’d settled into a semblance of a groove with the mysterious man next door.

“Can I play you something?” He said, tapping on his guitar, making the strings vibrate slightly. “Anything except country, okay?”

You let out a giggle–since when did you giggle? “Okay…” You thought for a jiffy. “Gimme some Wonderwall.”

“Oh, god-um-okay,” you could hear the smile in his voice. He fiddled for a second, finding the right chords, before he started. And he didn’t stop filling each and every one your requests–intermediately interrupted by questions back and forth between the two of you, that could very easily turn into a sleep-deprived tangent about anything from the current socio-political climate, to what breakfast cereal was the ultimate superior choice–until the sun began to creep up over the horizon, a perfect view from your balconies. You bid each other goodnight as the sky began to wake up to a tinge of light blue.

You woke up well past midday, and hungry. You dreaded the thought of properly waking up, getting ready, and going out to find somewhere with something that resembled breakfast food at this hour. So you decided on the next best thing, and within half an hour you’d at least showered, put on clothes that you could argue were “daytime clothes”, and sat yourself at a table in the restaurant attached to the hotel lobby–an intensely British establishment, made purely for tourists who missed the majorly under seasoned tastes of home.

It was only as you basked in the warmth of your English Breakfast tea and took in the smells of your traditional fry-up, that you put your finger on the uneasy feeling you were experiencing–from the moment you stepped out of your room and walked past the door next to yours–you felt exposed. You didn’t realise how much you enjoyed the anonymity of the night before, you didn’t know your conversation partner, and he didn’t know you, hell, you didn’t even know each other’s names, for Pete’s sake.

You could feel your breathing begin to get more and more shallow the longer you sat at that table alone. You were alone in the restaurant–bar the waitstaff and a group of five men at a table across the room who kept very much to themselves, all adorning either sunglasses, baseball caps, or drawn up hoodies. You couldn’t help but wonder as you took quick glances at them, were they famous or something?

You didn’t want to dwell on it, as you felt your heartbeat rise now, and you knew the situation wouldn’t end up pretty if you didn’t get out of there now. 

You were glad there was an option to charge your bill to your room, so you were able to book it out of there without having to wait around for a waiter to give you the bill, then charge it, before returning your card back to you.

Your vision didn’t falter from right ahead of you all the way to your room; out of the restaurant, through the lobby, in the elevator–you thanked whoever was in charge of the universe that you were alone during that portion of your trip–and down the hall until you were finally in your room.

You flopped facedown on your messy, unmade bed, when a sudden thought came to you–and you felt foolish that it didn’t dawn on you sooner.

If those guys were famous, would it be plausible that they were perhaps in a BRIT-winning band? Could one of them have been the man you spent the previous night talking to? You couldn’t recognise a voice, they were speaking to each other in hushed voices.

The air around you felt so, so thick, and hot; it was slowly suffocating you. You quickly rushed to your balcony–the scene of last night’s crime–and finally took a deep breath of the fresh air, draped in sunrays. It was as you began to calm yourself, that you could hear shuffling on the other side of that thin concrete wall.

“You alright over there?” You didn’t know what was to unfold. How would you explain your sudden fear of meeting your mystery man in person?

“Yeah, just a bit hungover, I think,” you joked, and you sighed in relief when you hear a laugh from next to you.

“Well I was thinking.” He paused for a second, seemingly trying to find the right words–you often did the same. “I’m feeling pretty ordinary, and I was going to just order some room service and chuck a film on-” You could see where this was going. “And I was wondering if you’d care to join me-I’ll even let you pick the film.”

You could hear the smile in his voice, and you weren’t sure if that’s what did it, or a sudden–but more and more familiar–wave of courage that washed over you, and the feeling that you just had to get to know the strange you’d yet to lay your eyes on, but in no time at all you’d found yourself agreeing, and you were knocking on the hotel door next to yours.

You felt your heartbeat hitch in your throat as the door handle began turning–everything felt like it was in slow motion. When your eyes met the chocolate ones on the other side of the door, you practically melted. You couldn’t have imagined what he looked like–if you tried, you wouldn’t have gotten close. He had a warm smile across his face, and he was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a graphic t-shirt of some band you hadn’t heard of.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Matty.”

[netherbios]

PERSEUS ARTEMI

ABOUT

Name: Perseus Artemi

Nickname: Persi

Birthday: 15 January

Age (human years): 25

Pronouns: he/him

Height: 6’0”

Weight: 150 lbs

Orientation: Pan(romantic/sexual/platonic)

Location: Hwandae, Parádeisos

Current Occupations: Idol (MX) at Anon Entertainment, Model

Side Occupations: DJ (moved from current occupation)

Blood Caste: Azure

Sign: Scorrius - The Cunning

Caste Ability: Magnetic Appeal - a mental ability that makes other trolls feel the strong feelings that Persi is currently experiencing.

CHARACTER APPEARANCE

PERSONALITY/DESCRIPTION

If you listen to the mostly playful reputation by the fans of xphoria, you would be led to believe that Perseus is lazy and doesn’t do much for the group or in general and that he is always sleeping and letting his bandmates do most activities for him. It is however far from the truth, Persi is like many trolls that took up a career in the music industry a workaholic who had at one point been juggling both idol life that was mostly at night and the life of a DJ during the day which left no proper time to actually sleep giving him that famous sleepy phase he is still known for.

Persi is extremely introverted making it hard for trolls to get to know him personally as he holds a lot of personal information about himself close to himself. He is a dedicated friend however and will go out of his way to fulfil anything they ask of him if it helps keep them happy, the one that gets this treatment the most is his quads Kyun and Min.

Persi is low energy compared to the rest of xphoria and one fact is right about what his fans say, he enjoys sleeping a great deal and will choose to take naps in his free time opposed to something more active like for example Min would.

HISTORY/SIMPLIFIED

Perseus was raised by a very small frog lusus who as the troll grew up had some difficulties keeping up with raising him. He would take on more and more responsibilities by himself to help her, this behaviour would intensify over time stepping fully into workaholic territory. He found out that trainees in the music industry were offered housing while they trained with that company and to free his mama the burdens of raising a troll that had more demanding needs than a grub.

Persi would develop a flushed crush on one of the trolls that were training with him, the two were briefly in a relationship until they separated when the troll broke it off because they were selected to join a developing group. During this time he had also become friends with Minoru who insisted that he call him Min.

He would be selected for a new group and would simply be called xphoria, Persi would suggest Min both because he believed that the gold blooded troll had the talent and because he had developed pale feelings for him. They would become moirails shortly afterwards.

xphoria would debut as a seven member group until it was decided that they needed another troll to strengthen the rapping line, Min had wanted another trainee from the company and Persi had agreed with him. In the end the ‘outside’ talent Kyun was asked to join, Min was quick to show his displeasure by the situation causing a number of fights with the other members and while Persi didn’t hold as strong feelings about what happened he still sided with Min to show his moirail support.

Problems started when multiple scandals about Seok surfaced and caused him to leave suddenly without consulting any of them, it went downhill after that as their schedules intensified. Persi was expected to live through both an idol schedule and then afterwards do DJ gigs to improve the band’s reputation and make them more well known. Mantri got wind of this by a supposed mysterious messenger and like with Aeris got them out of there and into Anon Entertainment although to Persi’s displeasure they weren’t able to do any work until they had been given the all clear physically and mentally.

QUADRANTS AND RELATIONSHIPS

Quadrants

Matesprit - Kyuna Kuina (“Sleeping Melodies”)

Moirail - Minoru Vicitra (“Dreaming Out Loud”)

Kismesis - Open

Auspistice - Open

TRIVIA

- Don’t call Perseus, Persi if you are in a personal setting only friends can call him that. Fans do too but there’s nothing he can do about that so he just doesn’t.

- Persi’s shirt will never move/fall down; it stays like that out of spite.

- has dipped his toes in acting but that’s usually a group activity.

- Doc Ver. that is prettier

- tags : info about Perseus, asking Perseus, Perseus art, aesthetic tag, the everything tag and TH

[seancurry1]

Humans can’t help creating a narrative any more than we can help breathing. The second there’s someone else out there besides you, narrative exists. The moment our most ancient proto ancestors realized there were some who came before and some who would come after, narrative sprang into being. Narrative is what we think about our species, and the more people we become aware of, the bigger and more powerful it gets. It simply is, and while it can’t exist without us, it also exists separately and apart from each of us.

Narrative isn’t evil or good. It just is, like magnetism. It isn’t capitalism, but capitalism definitely uses it. Whatever mode of society we’re trying out at any given time uses it: capitalism, socialism, monarchism, feudalism, theocracy, etc. This isn’t about narrative’s inherent morality, because it has no more morality than magnetism does. It’s about how it’s used, and to what ends. Unfortunately, there are a lot of people who want to use it for selfish reasons: to compel you to vote a certain way, shop a certain way, or set certain goals. The Great Heaving Mass is what happens when selfish people wrest control of our collective narrative away from the rest of us and use it to further their own ends, instead of the common good.

We’re all pretty good at seeing some of the Great Heaving Mass some of the time, and in those moments, we’re also pretty good at resisting it. But this is also its cleverness: it doesn’t try to overpower you, it overwhelms you. You could probably survive a blast of water for a short period of time. How long would you survive treading water in an endless sea?

My point with all this isn’t that we should avoid narrative, or flee to the woods, or shun anyone who tries to use narrative to push a message. Narrative can be used for good: the Black Lives Matter protests of 2020, the fight for marriage equality, and the current push to normalize the existence and acceptance of trans people are all good examples. Narrative can be used for fun, or for necessity, or for community building, and at its best, it inspires all of us toward a common goal.

I’m not suggesting we need to be afraid of narrative, but we do need to be aware of narrative.

The people that have bought into the Great Heaving Mass need you to forget that you’re living inside a narrative—and they really need you to forget that you can shape the narrative, too. These tools that have arisen in the past few centuries—printing presses, telegraphs, phones, radios and tvs, the internet—have given smaller and smaller groups of people undue power over the narrative, but they’ve given us that power, too. We have to band together more than they do to wield it, but we can band together and take that power for ourselves.

And it terrifies them.

Why do you think they want to keep us in their walled gardens?

Got another one up at my website about narrative, how it affects us, and what Eleanor Roosevelt and Banksy might agree on.

Check it out on my website!

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Hunter's Moon (Medieval AU pt. 2)

Chapter 1

Oh we're so back!! What You've Done You Cannot Undo Part 2: Swissalps Boooogaloo 👻

After yesterday's (rather embarrassing...) total disaster with "early access invites", I think my tag list needs thanking for their patience with my bs as well as their support of this series! Link was here if anyone wanted to try and see if it works for them! (best viewed not on mobile). Secret code: swissalps Much love to @ashthewaterghoul @bloodfin @cosmicseafoam @everybodyshusband @jazz-bazz @karmicbias @kentuckyfriedsatan @midnight-moth @nefariousghoul @papaslittlesunshine @zombiequeen777 @0-miles-away for your encouragement on WYDYCU! 🖤 Y'all are the reason there's a sequel happening haha!

Happy Halloween folks, I hope you have a nice time if you're doing anything, and stay safe! 🖤🎃

Rating: T Content: angst (with a happy ending), alcohol, "hangxiety", vomiting/nausea Words: 4391

Read below, or on AO3!

You are cordially invited to join us for a Harvest Celebration at the Abbey. Refreshments will be provided, and there will be entertainment by local groups, including our own popular folk band! We hope to see you on the thirty-first evening of October, to give thanks for this year's bountiful produce! 

Preparations were well underway for the Harvest festival at the Abbey, but as the final produce was being brought in from the fields, the seeds of discontent were being sowed between Swiss and Mountain. The pair were doing their very best to avoid each other – made difficult by their shared sleeping arrangements – and hoping to dodge the conversation they both knew was coming. It was unavoidable; they knew they had to talk about the events of the previous night at the tavern in the nearby village. The night of the kiss. That didn't stop them from doing all they could to avoid that, though.

The liquor had been freely flowing, Mountain had reasoned. Plied with free drinks by exuberant locals and buoyed up by the ghouls’ music, all of them had indulged more than usual. Even Aether, usually the most stoic and sensible among the pack, had trundled his way back to the Abbey chortling away to his new friend, Cowbell. Swiss had let loose, finally letting the stresses and responsibilities of the previous weeks fall from his shoulders, and Mountain had been over the moon to see him back to his usual happy self.

Some time after his fifth drink, Mountain had lost count. He felt floaty and happy, gravitating towards the multi ghoul who was the one true focus of his attentions. His music project with Copia had gotten off to a roaring start, and the delight in his eyes made them positively gleam. Even sober, Mountain didn’t think he could have resisted their golden glow. They pulled him in, like falling into treacle, and before he was aware of making the decision, his feet had carried him across the tavern floor to press close to his side. Swiss melted against him, celebrating in the way he deserved to. They had barely separated the rest of the evening, dancing, swaying, stuck to each other like magnets.

Mountain couldn’t remember who moved to close the final gap between them, but surrounded by the raucous noise of his pack and the patrons of the pub, he found himself falling forward until his lips pressed firmly against Swiss’. The multi ghoul pressed back against him with a fervour born of weeks of restraint, neither caring about the chaos surrounding them or the bitter taste of beer that lingered in each other’s mouths.

The time between that moment and the pair leaving the tavern could have been minutes or hours for all Mountain knew. He only became aware of his surroundings again as the pair were being bundled into Cowbell’s horse and cart, the ghoul silently but good-naturedly guiding the rowdy, inebriated pack back up the hill and the few miles to the Abbey. Tripping over themselves as they tried to step down to solid ground without detaching their mouths, the two tall ghouls stumbled apart before staggering after the others in the direction of the Den, arms around each other’s waists and giggling to themselves.

Falling into bed hadn’t led anywhere, Mountain didn’t think. He barely remembered taking his shoes off even, before they both fell asleep. Swiss had clearly done something similar; his boots lying strewn in opposite corners of the room the next morning. As Mountain awoke to a pounding headache and a mouth that felt as dry as the desert, he was hit with a feeling of regret like a brick to the back of his head. What if Swiss hadn’t meant to kiss him back? He shuddered at the thought. What if it was just the alcohol?

Ignoring the swirling of the world around his head, he turned to look for Swiss. The multi ghoul was still sound asleep, looking as dead to the world as he always did in the mornings. The guilt wracked Mountain again, and he knew then that he couldn’t be here when Swiss woke – what if he couldn’t stand to see him right now? He suppressed a nauseous groan from moving, and crawled out of bed. The Harvest festival was tonight, and there was undoubtedly more work than he could imagine that still needed to be done for it. Hopefully if he wasn’t still here when Swiss woke, he wouldn’t be as mad at him.

A while after Mountain had left the room, careful to close the door as quietly as possible and with his warm spot in the bed beginning to cool in his absence, Swiss started to wake up. His head felt like a herd of wild boar had used it as a football, but as the memories came flooding back, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Mountain had kissed him. Well, he thought it was that way around. One moment he had been staring at Mountain’s green eyes, blazing with exhilaration and joy, and the next they had been kissing each other like the world was ending. Swiss felt his headache begin to abate just at the thought. He groped around the mattress, searching for the Earth ghoul to continue what sleep and alcohol had presumably interrupted.

Nothing. His hands fumbled around in empty sheets and blankets, never colliding with the warm, firm body of Mountain. That could surely only mean one thing. Swiss bolted upright, the sudden wave of fear combining with the ensuing head-rush almost making him vomit. Nothing. Mountain wasn’t anywhere in the room. The brightness of the sunlight pouring in only added to his nausea as Swiss stumbled towards the bathroom in search of water.

Mountain must regret everything, Swiss decided. Why else would he leave? He must hate him for ruining their friendship. Swiss groaned, splashing more cold water on his face. As much as he wanted to hide in the room forever, lounging in his own misery, there was still a festival to get ready for and one which he was expected to help with the preparations for. That ought to keep Mountain distracted all day too, he supposed: the earth ghouls were due to be especially busy. That was at least until the evening, when they would all be allowed to join in the festivities and celebrate their own successful harvest throughout the year, drinking the blackberry wine, dancing to music…

Music. Swiss felt his heart sink even further. They were supposed to be playing tonight too, hadn’t Copia said as much, several times, last night? Swiss allowed himself one last groan of self-pity, before wandering back into the bedroom to get dressed. There was no chance of him avoiding Mountain it seemed, so he would have to take the harder option: talking to him. Swiss resolved to do his very best to put things right between them: he might have ruined their chances of ever being mates, but hopefully he could lay the groundwork for them remaining friends.

Mountain meanwhile was spiralling. The festival preparations were boring and monotonous for all of the ghouls involved, but to make things worse he had been put on hay bale duty. Hauling the heavy, prickly blocks into position for makeshift dividers and benches was doing nothing to help his pounding headache and queasy stomach, but he tried to distract himself with the task. It was all to no avail however; and soon he was back to catastrophising about all the ways he had messed up his relationship with Swiss. The longer he stayed away, stewing in his own thoughts, the more another competing fear snuck in – what if Swiss understood that a drunken mistake was just that, but was now angry he hadn't stuck around to apologise? There was no way for him to win against his own mind, and all the worst-case-scenarios continued to bombard him as he worked.

When he next took a break from hauling hay, he spotted Delphinia setting out the small and intricately carved wooden cups they were to serve their famed blackberry wine in later. He felt his mouth watering at the thought, having been told by several earth ghouls that the wine was the true highlight of the festival, but shook his head to himself. Not tonight. He hated to miss out on what was apparently a well-loved an Abbey tradition, but it was more important that he remain clear-headed to talk to Swiss. If he gave him a chance to do so, of course.

Mountain sighed deeply. How could everything have gone so topsy-turvey in the last few hours? He'd been so close to talking to Swiss, finally asking him to be his after so long of wanting, and now they were further away from that than they had possibly ever been before. Kicking at a stone angrily, he watched it skitter across the gravel path before stuttering to a halt as it hit a bump. If that didn't feel like a metaphor for his own life right now...

Back in the Den, Swiss crawled into the common room, eyes squinted shut against the late morning light. He was met, to his surprise, not by any of his pack but by the sight of Cowbell passed out on the couch, snoring. Swiss didn't think he'd ever seen them look so casual before, one arm dragging on the floor and their tail curled around their other arm for comfort as they slept.

Before Swiss could join them in their stupor on another couch, Aether also entered the common room. Under his arm was a small, familiar walnut chest.

“Hangover cure?” Aether offered with a grin, shaking the box at the multi ghoul. Swiss grunted desperately in response, making groggy motions with his hands for Aether to hand over its contents. Aether dutifully plucked out one of the pre-portioned bundles of herbs that laid inside, before placing another on the arm of the sofa next to Cowbell.

“How are you so chipper this morning? You seemed plenty drunk on the way home.” Swiss grumbled, chewing on the dried stalks and wincing at the bitter taste. He felt his stomach begin to settle instantly however, and the edges of his headache slowly began to erode away.

“Some of us didn't spend our evenings sucking down beers and earth ghouls’ tongues!” Aether teased with an exaggerated wink. He stopped himself from saying anything more however when he saw the crestfallen look on Swiss’ face. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean it like that...”

Swiss shook his head; Aether hadn't meant to upset him, he knew that.

“Mount clearly wishes he hadn't spent his evening like that either,” huffing dejectedly, Swiss slumped further down into the couch, “he was gone when I woke up this morning.”

It was common knowledge that Swiss and Mountain shared a room by now, but no one had felt the need bring it up before. Several of the pack thought they were just keeping their developing relationship under wraps, with last night simply being the first time they had let the curtain fall. Aether had no idea that it had actually been their first real step in that direction. The quintessence ghoul moved to sit beside Swiss on the couch, letting him rest his head on his shoulder with a sigh. He didn't know what to say, but he knew he could at least be there for him if he wanted to talk.

They stayed that way, sat in companionable silence, until Cowbell began to stir and Cirrus and Cumulus appeared. Swiss raised his head with a groan, letting Aether attend to his latest ‘patients’ who were also feeling rather thick-headed.

Eventually the drowsy fog in the room lifted, helped in no small part by Cirrus raiding the kitchens for what was left of breakfast; the smell of warm bacon enticing even Swiss over to the dining table. As much as they would have all welcomed a morning inside, there was still a lot to be done to prepare for the festival and so, bellies full, they all trudged out to the Abbey grounds to do their part.

~~~~~~~

Two more ghouls that should also have been helping, but were skiving their duties in bed, were Rain and Dewdrop. The gentle hubbub of noise in the passage outside had failed to wake them, but eventually the autumn sun pouring through the window did. Scrunching his eyes up against the light, Rain burrowed his face into Dew's hair. The fire ghoul wriggled slightly as he in turn began to wake, but neither made any move to leave their shared embrace. This was becoming routine for them; waking in each other's arms.

Rain's head felt slightly heavy, but he knew the rest of his pack must be feeling a lot worse. Sure, he and Dew had both enjoyed the free beer, but it had seemed almost unnecessary with the way they felt drunk off each other instead. Looking back on the memories of the night before, starting with the roaring success of their fellow pack members' first ritual, Rain felt a deep sense of contentment. The night had only gotten better, he thought, as tables and chairs had been pushed aside and the dancing had begun. It had reminded him of the parties of his home clan, and all the other large celebrations he hadn't experienced in years. A thrill of anticipation ran through him as he realised that they would get to repeat the fun again tonight, but with the rest of the ghouls in the Abbey he'd met over the last few weeks.

The most exciting part of the previous night had, of course, been seeing Swiss and Mountain together at last. While Rain might have been caught up in his and Dew’s blossoming love story, he hadn't missed the signs that his packmates were living out their own. He didn't know when their friendship had crossed into something more – they had certainly hidden it better than him and Dew had, especially if they had been a pair for a while already – but he was overjoyed for them, nonetheless. Rain held Dew close, thanking Him below for his and his packmates’ happiness.

“Morning Rainy,” Dew murmured drowsily against his chest, finally awake enough to speak. The words came out slightly croaky: Dew had been leading the chorus of cheers directed at Swiss and Mountain last night, Rain supposed, before his mouth decided it would be better occupied pressed against Rain's.

“Good morning, Love,” he whispered back, “sleep well?”

Dew nodded, his hair brushing against Rain’s sides and tickling him as he nuzzled closer.

“Not as well as Mount and Swiss will have,” he sleepily chuckled, “they were really out of it when we got back!”

Rain sniggered to himself. Their packmates really had been in a world all of their own. He was sure that warranted at least some light-hearted teasing later.

“I didn't even know they were together.” He mused aloud.

“Nor did I...” Dew hummed. “I thought Swiss would've told me if something happened. 'M happy for them though, maybe last night was just the kick they needed to finally realise how loopy they are for each other.”

“I'm not sure we have a leg to stand on there!” Rain giggled, squeezing Dew tightly until the fire ghoul squawked in protest and the pair descended into peals of laughter, all thoughts of their pack – and their duties regarding the festival – forgotten.

~~~~~~~

Outside, Swiss had already been put to work alongside Cirrus and Cumulus. The trio had been tasked with hanging enchanted fairy lights all along the pathway down to the main road to the village; guiding beacons for those curious – and brave – enough to venture up. The constant bending and reaching was doing nothing to help Swiss’ headache, but instead of complaining he was simply grateful to continue to avoid Mountain. He still had no idea what he could possibly say to him.

The air ghoulettes had both sensed immediately that something was off with the usually-cheery ghoul, and it was costing them every scrap of patience they had not to ask what had put him in such a gloomy mood. Soon however they were granted a welcome distraction in the form of Sunshine, arms laden with brightly glowing lanterns.

“Overslept?” Cumulus teased as she approached, hair curling wildly around her ears.

“Eh,” she waved the comment off with a grin, “I’m here now aren’t I? As long as everything gets done in time Copia won’t care.”

“Besides, has anyone seen him yet this morning?” Cirrus chimed in. She had a point; no one had heard a peep from the old man yet, who was usually one of the earliest risers in the Abbey.

They all resumed their task, Sunshine slotting herself beside Swiss to pass the lights up to him and saving him from the constant bending down, allowing the remains of his headache to ebb away. Although far from working in silence, the things that hung unsaid in the air were loud. Cumulus especially was uncharacteristically quiet, biting her tongue to avoid outright demanding Swiss tell her what was bothering him.

One ghoulette who was not so tactful however was Mist. When the ghouls were almost down to the road with their lights, she came loping down the path towards them clutching a small hamper. They realised as she grew closer just how long they must have been working, with the sun nearly at its peak.   

“Alright, lover boy?” She called with a loud whistle.

Oblivious to the panicked glares the other ghoulettes were shooting her, she produced a pair of glass bottles from the hamper and held them out temptingly. The condensation running down the outsides did look tempting, the thought of a cold drink on the mild autumn day making them all realise just how thirsty they were.

Swiss however looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. He was still a little intimidated by the water ghoulette and her directness. Mist seemed unbothered by his silence though, continuing to unload the hamper of a selection of snacks and to pour the drink; a sweet, ginger-infused concoction from Aether that soothed their remaining stomach jitters. Swiss sipped it gratefully, burying his face in the cup. It didn't work though, and he could still feel Mist's piercing blue gaze boring a hole in the side of his head.

“What's got you looking like a bear with a sore head?” She quipped lightly. “Moping because your hunky earth ghoul is busy? He's hauling hay bales right now, I'd have thought you'd be spying from the bushes!”

Everyone fell very silent at Mist's words, as Swiss looked up like a deer caught in headlights, stricken. He couldn't stop the blush colouring his cheeks, as much as her words simultaneously made him want to cry. Swiss realised he didn't even know if Mountain would ever want to speak to him again, let alone be describes as Swiss'.

“Oh Honey...” Mist's entire demeanour changed as she softly cooed, seeing the expression on his face fall. Her soft side came out only rarely, but when it did it was as comforting as sinking into a warm bath. Before he knew what was happening, Swiss found himself sat on the dry earth floor swarmed in a ghoulette group hug, someone producing a handkerchief for the tears he hadn't realised were leaking from his eyes. It smelled like fresh air and spring flowers, and he assumed it was Cumulus'. Surrounded by love, Swiss let the floodgates open, allowed himself to feel all the hurt and confusion he had been feeling all day.

“What happened Sweetheart?” Mist murmured, stroking his back while his shoulders shook. “What's got you so upset?”

Between choked sobs, Swiss was finally able to get out the events of that morning, explaining at length the emotional rollercoaster he had been on over the few hours he'd been awake, thinking he had finally got everything his heart wanted only to have it all torn away. How Mountain hadn't been there when he woke up, and had left no explanation for his absence.

“He didn't even leave a note,” he said, almost begging someone to tell him he had misunderstood everything, to suddenly produce an explanation of their own, “he's always there in the mornings, no matter what! Even when he's busy or has to head out early he'll always bring breakfast.”

Cirrus and Cumulus shared a concerned glance behind his back; they frequently bumped into Mountain scurrying around laying food on a tray for the pair, he seemed to take great joy from the act of providing for Swiss.

“Maybe he just forgot?” Sunny suggested. Swiss shook his head vehemently.

“He never forgets! He must regret last night so much, he has to hate me now!” Another volley of sobs wracked his body, counterbalanced by the harmonising concern of the ghoulettes around him. They were all trying their best to hide the mild shock at learning that the hitherto inseparable ghouls really were in fact, just friends until now.

“I'm sure there's an explanation, if you talk to him,” suggested Cirrus, ever the voice of reason amongst the group, “there's no way he'd want you to be this upset.”

“How can I talk to him though, when he clearly doesn't want to? He knows I'm down here, wouldn't he come and find me if he wanted to?”

No one had an answer for that.

Work completely forgotten, the ghoulettes stayed in their huddle around Swiss until his eyes were dry again and his breaths even. The final lanterns were a short matter with five pairs of hands now, as the group made a plan.

Mist was more than willing to square up to Mountain: the ghouls were all pack now, and he had made one of her pack cry. Even though she was short in stature, only slightly more than half of the earth ghoul’s unglamoured height, she cut an imposing figure as she stood with her hands defiantly on her hips. The thought of Mountain having to crouch to be lectured by her made Swiss giggle despite his woes.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Cirrus reasoned, quickly putting a stop to that approach, “I’ll happily be next in line to chew him out if that’s what’s needed, but let’s think what else we can do first.”

“Are you absolutely certain he regrets last night,” Cumulus added, “and that he’s not just really busy with the festival? The earth ghouls always get the brunt of the work this time of year, maybe someone came to fetch him from your room before he could say goodbye?”

Swiss thought for a minute; he hadn’t considered that Mountain may not have been given a chance to let him know about his early departure.

“No…” He admitted hesitantly.

“Then give him a chance to explain, Sweetie,” with a gentle smile, Cumulus stroked his arm, “there’s no point getting upset until you have all the facts.”

As always, Swiss thought to himself, she was right.

Walking back up the hill, they continued to hatch a plan. If Mountain really had needed to leave in a rush, he must be feeling bad about it too. As Cirrus pointed out; he didn't want to start a fight over a misunderstanding. Her advice of simply talking to the ghoul seemed almost too obvious, and Swiss had to wonder how his pack had coped for so long without her level-headed attitude to keep them grounded. They decided the best option for now was to act normal and let things play out; if Mountain knew Swiss was nearby, he would surely at least say hello. Lightening the tension, Sunny had quipped that there was no point making Mountains out of molehills.

As Swiss got closer to where he knew Mountain was working, he felt his nerves creeping back in. After how turbulent the morning had been, he had no idea if he would be able to act natural when Mountain spoke to him, or if all his insecurities would all come bursting out when he opened his mouth. He could only hope that this little blip would be just that, and they could continue letting their relationship blossom as he had dreamed that it would when he first woke.

~~~~~~~

In the large clearing just outside the Abbey's walls, where the festival was to be held, Mountain still wasn't feeling any better than he had when he first woke up. Even if physically he was feeling better, he was increasingly wracked with guilt about how things had gone down with Swiss. He hadn't seen him all day, something that was practically unheard of given how close the pair were, and the solitude combined with the boring work was giving him too much time to stew in his own negative thoughts.

Mountain thought about what he would say when he saw Swiss. There was so much he wanted to say; from how he was sorry if he overstepped the night before, to grand declarations of love for the multi ghoul. The myriad ways a conversation could go ran through his head, like he was a playwright composing a hundred different possibilities for either an epic tragedy or a comedy or errors.

Maybe Swiss would be mad at him for the drunken kiss and angrier still at him for leaving so suddenly in the morning, or maybe he would be upset but still grateful for the space when he woke. Possibly things could go back to normal; their close friendship unchanged by them getting a little too close just this one time. Just maybe though, Swiss would feel the same way about him. In Mountain's wildest dreams, the likes of which he barely dared entertain, Swiss might also have allowed his heart to rule his head the previous night. The thought wasn't entirely reassuring however, as that would mean Mountain had abandoned him for the entire morning, leaving him uncertain and alone.

He huffed loudly to himself, making a nearby earth ghoul look over at him in concern. However things stood with him and Swiss, he couldn't see any angle where he hadn't messed up in some way. He really couldn't win.

[hlficlibrary]

hi, could you recommend me some larry fanfics that aren’t AU’s / are set during their time in the band?

Hi, anon, this ask made me a little nostalgic, so I went back a ways to find some of my old favorites that I read during that time. That being said, here are some canon compliant fics set during the One Direction years...

Edited to add these from my pinned post for a few more:

✤ Canon

✤ Canon Exes to Lovers

✤ Canon, Fans Shipping Before Together

Untangle Me by suicxne

Louis finds himself out of place in LA, unable to get at an itch that’s been bothering him for years. He supposes back in the early days, home hadn’t been a place. It’d been a person. He’d etched it permanently into his skin for fucks sake. It was always him and Harry. Stuck to each other like super glue. Pulled together by some magnetic force, existing in their own bubble. Everyone could see it, but that was half the problem, wasn’t it?

It’s not like Louis can pinpoint the exact moment in time when him and Harry fell out of sync. There wasn’t really one at all. It had been a gradual slip, like the tide wearing away at a sandstone cliff. Chipping the solid foundations until there was nothing left to stop the structure falling to the waves below. It’s not like he spends all of his time sitting around moping over a lost friendship, he’s good at distractions. But LA only seems to accentuate the distance between them. Two separate planets, not even in the same solar system.

Or the one where Harry and Louis finally get it right.

you drive me wild (you know you do) by @missandrogyny

Their management informs them that they have an interview right before the ARIAs, and it isn't until he's in a suit, seated on a couch between Liam and Zayn, that he gets the idea.

The interviewer, Angus, smiles at them, right before the cameras roll on, and a metaphorical light bulb goes off inside Louis' head. He's perfect. Well, not as perfect as Harry, but enough. He's attractive, attractive enough to drive Harry crazy, and he doesn't even think of the consequences of his actions, just decides right then. It's all Harry's fault anyway. Louis should be allowed to have a little fun.

(or: Louis flirts with the Australian interviewers and Harry gets possessive.)

the dark and the dentist by sunshiner

“I know this song,” Louis whispers, and Harry has to lean his ear toward him to pick up what he’s saying. “It was written for people to dance to it. We should be dancing.” We can’t, Harry almost spits, but it’d be stupid of him. Louis knows they can’t. Even if he looks like any regular Parisian in their twenties, and Harry looks like any hipster Parisian in their twenties, they can’t anyway. To be fair, they probably wouldn’t do it even if they were out. But if they were two uni students, both in Paris for an exchange, meeting over fallen books at the library, or because of mutual friends, or watching Monet’s Water Lilies? “How would we dance?” Harry murmurs, mouth almost pressed to Louis’ cheek, so close he can feel his warmth. What a picture they must make, two millionaires freezing in a park and dreaming of a different life.

An account of the events of November 2014. Canon-compliant.

[lesbiannancytruther]

Ronance but they got a poly/fwb thing with Chrissy/Heather 👀

as the ogs know this account was founded on my adoration for sapphic senate i love poly ronance

just the idea that both of them are magnets for attention, nancy is a hurricane of a woman and has a case of pretty face disorder (after all she pulled the whole friend group like!!) and robin is so charming and genuine and witty they both literally can’t help but pull

i don’t see either of them seeing other people separate of each other, like it would definitely be a both of them thing and i don’t think either would get superrrr romantically attached to anyone else but i can absolutely picture fun hookups.

this is all thought of under the pretense that both nancy and robin are more experienced and comfortable in their sexualities and expectations after spending time together and in queer spaces so keep that in mind

ALSO NSFW KINDA

for heather

heather cornering nancy at a house party after making eyes at each other all night, gauging her interest, and all nancy says is “as long as you’re cool with my girlfriend watching” before leading her off to a bedroom that robin is already in, who’d met nancy’s eyes from across the room and read her expression (being together for a few years makes you good at that).

it starts with robin watching, smothering a smirk as heather takes nancy apart, giving heather pointers that always result in higher pitched whines from a breathless nancy, but eventually it devolves into a free for all after heather asks if robin wants a turn, supported by pleading whimpers from nancy, and robin takes turns with both, and they both take turns with her until its a mess of lips, teeth, slick, and sweat that ends with all of them breathless and boneless, piled up on the bed.

robin and nancy wake up alone the next morning with a slip of paper and a number, with a coy “lets do that again sometime” written in a slanted hand, signed with an h.

for chrissy

i imagine chrissy frequents the family video store really often, she loves sticky romcoms and has a bit of the thing for the scattered but snarky cashier who’s rings brush her fingers every time she hands over the small fee for that weekend’s movie.

she knows robin buckley, knows she was in band in high school, knows the rumors, knows they’re true. knows that nancy wheeler wears her distinctive jackets to house parties to cover up the vivid marks on her neck. and with that knowledge she keeps a respectful distance, because in friendlier corners of town it was well known that nancy and robin owned each other in every way that matters.

she subdues herself to light blushes as she leaves the store and smiling to herself at the rasp of robin’s voice when one day, none other than nancy wheeler is perched on the counter of family video, smiling at something robin said when she turns her attention to chrissy. her look turns thoughtful, like she’s considering something, before offering chrissy the half-hearted wave of seeing someone you’re acquainted with in public.

nancy is striking in her own way, and when chrissy walks up to the counter with her latest pick, dirty dancing, she finds herself a little overwhelmed with both of them looking at her, and it takes her a moment to register robin talking to her, asking her if she wants to hang out with them when robin’s shift ends, and all she can do is stutter out a startled yes.

it starts off really casual, the three of them lounging in a diner, chrissy in one booth and nancy and robin in the other, talking about nothing. both robin and nancy are not-so-subtley flirting with each other, not surprising, but they also direct that energy towards chrissy, and when the bill is paid, they both ask with sharp smiles if she wants to hang out more at nancy’s place (her family is out of town for the weekend, not that that should matter)

things get a little crazy when they take her down to the basement, and robin and nancy are getting a little handsy with each other, and chrissy stands to excuse herself. its one thing, watching their affection for each other, its another to watch them get more physical, every touch sending a flash of heat through her, and its going to be an actual problem much too fast.

both robin and nancy look sheepish and nancy steps forward, admitting that they’d thought she’d be into joining them, and apologizing for assuming that.

chrissy: floored

because?? what?? they both?? wanted?? to do something like that?? with her?? she could tell they were flirting but this was more than she imagined for their FIRST hangout!

(she says yes)

(they ask her if she can bring her cheerleading uniform next time)

(she does)

[shouldntbeaskingmyselfwhy]

okay full thoughts on the taylor cover band:

they sort of did eras but some of the choices were weird (like speak now had love story, ybwm and forever and always thrown in there, no separate fearless era?? forever and always was an interesting choice i think me and my friend were the only ones going feral for it.)

the lead singer was incredibly talented, and she did a lot of taylor's little mannerisms and dance moves without making it feel like an impersonation, if that makes sense. clearly a fan who cares a lot

the times i've seen taylor live, i'm always so focused on her and being in her presence, and when i'm able to focus more on the instrumentation/arrangement/rest of the performers, it's usually through a laggy livestream. this was a cool experience in that it just kept hitting me that her whole discography is just wall-to-wall really solid songs, even divorced from taylor's magnetism as a singer and performer. in some ways it was like hearing them all for the first time again

there were a lot of kids there, i'd say maybe 8-11 year olds were the biggest demo, and it filled my heart sooooo much. to see these little girls in their costumes and jumping around with their friends, trading friendship bracelets, idk it made me very emo. taylor, her music, and this community have been such an anchor for me over the past 15 years, and it was very touching to me to think that these little girls will get to have that, too

they closed the show with 22, which i initially thought was a really weird choice because rep was the last era they did (this girl did THAT NOTE in don't blame me it was sooooo good). but when i realized they were paying homage to eras 22, complete with a kick line and giving away the hat, it made total sense. so much joy in that room.

[lazzarella]

Top 10 Things

For some reason, I've decided to compile lists of my various top ten things, a completely pointless venture because I highly doubt anyone will read it, and I already know what they are, but I'm doing it anyway! lol

(I've included: bands; solo artists; albums; books; poems; graphic novels/comics; tv shows; BL series; murder mystery shows; movies; actors; actresses; directors; musicals)

BANDS

The Beatles

ABBA

Belle and Sebastian

Led Zeppelin

The Raveonettes

The Decemberists

Ramones

Blondie

Sparks

Judas Priest

SOLO ARTISTS

John Grant

Rufus Wainwright

Connie Francis

Kylie Minogue

Angel Olsen

Prince

Sufjan Stevens

Kate Bush

David Bowie

Keaton Henson

ALBUMS

Queen of Denmark by John Grant

69 Love Songs by The Magnetic Fields

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel

Rubber Soul by The Beatles

Picaresque by The Decemberists

Houses of the Holy by Led Zeppelin

You Could Have It So Much Better by Franz Ferdinand

Purple Rain by Prince

Transformer by Lou Reed

If You're Feeling Sinister by Belle and Sebastian

BOOKS

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

Grief is the Thing With Feathers by Max Porter

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie

The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien

The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories by Angela Carter

The Charioteer by Mary Renault

The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler

POEMS

Having a Coke With You by Frank O'Hara

Every poem in Crush by Richard Siken

The Second Coming by WB Yeats (alternatively, The Mermaid)

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot

Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen

Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond by e.e. cummings

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

Tired by Langston Hughes

Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo

GRAPHIC NOVELS/COMICS

Paper Girls

Ghost World

Persepolis

Bandette series

Delilah Dirk and the Turkish Lieutenant + sequels

The Fade Out

The Case of the Missing Men

The Less Than Epic Adventures of TJ and Amal

It's a Good Life, If You Don't Weaken

Nimona

TV SHOWS (that are not BLs or murder mysteries XD)

Spaced

Supernatural

The Hour

Buffy

Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes

This is England 86/88/90

I Love Lucy

Pushing Daisies

Dark

In the Flesh OR The Young Ones OR Xena (I was going to choose but meh)

(A full list of my favourite TV shows on Serializd)

BL SERIES (MASTERLIST HERE)

Moonlight Chicken

My Personal Weatherman

KinnPorsche

Cherry Magic (Thailand)

Century of Love

Wandee Goodday

Old Fashion Cupcake

A Tale of Thousand Stars

Only Friends

Jack O'Frost

(I have a feeling Kidnap is going to take the place of one of these though)

MURDER MYSTERY SHOWS

Poirot

Marple

Rosemary and Thyme

Twin Peaks (it counts XD)

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries

Endeavour

Beyond Evil

Murder, She Wrote

Jonathan Creek

George Gently

MOVIES

(if I do subcategories for this, we'd be here all day! But ftr my favourite genres are film noir, musicals, rom-coms, horror—mostly slashers and gialli, 50s/60s sci-fi...)

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Clue

Strictly Ballroom

Charade

Velvet Goldmine

Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Call Me By Your Name

God's Own Country

Secretary

That Thing You Do!

(A full list of my favourite films on Letterboxd)

ACTORS

Robert Redford

Colin Farrell

James Spader

Keanu Reeves

Danny Kaye

Humphrey Bogart

Dirk Bogarde

Frank Sinatra

Jack Lemmon

Ben Whishaw

ACTRESSES

(only separating by gender to get more in XD)

Doris Day

Audrey Hepburn

Amy Adams

Lucille Ball

Jane Fonda

Kirsten Dunst

Marilyn Monroe

Nicole Kidman

Michelle Williams

Cate Blanchett

DIRECTORS

Gregg Araki

Alfred Hitchcock

John Waters

Sofia Coppola

Agnès Varda

Wes Anderson

Billy Wilder

Pedro Almodóvar

Stanley Donen

Dario Argento

MUSICALS

(only counting ones I've seen productions of myself)

The Rocky Horror Show

Little Shop of Horrors

Aladdin

Matilda

Cats

Chicago

Hairspray

Wicked

Singin' in the Rain

9 to 5 tied with Priscilla: Queen of the Desert

[mythicalcowboyatheart]

Composition

Andy Biersack and Spencer Charnas x reader

Fluff

In the bustling city of Los Angeles, there lived two talented musicians named Andy Biersack and Spencer Charnas. Andy, the charismatic frontman of the rock band Black Veil Brides, possessed a captivating voice and a rebellious spirit. On the other hand, Spencer, the lead vocalist of the metalcore band Ice Nine Kills, had a dark charm and a mischievous sense of humor. Both men were adored by fans worldwide, but little did they know that their lives were about to intertwine in an unexpected way.

One fateful evening, Andy and Spencer found themselves at a local music venue, each performing at separate shows. As fate would have it, they both caught sight of a mesmerizing girl named YN who was another music artist performing at the venue. YN had an enchanting smile, eyes that sparkled like stars, and a passion for music that radiated from her very being. She was a true embodiment of everything they had ever dreamed of.

Andy, felling bold and confident, approached YN first. He was drawn to her magnetic energy and couldn't resist striking up a conversation. They bonded over their shared love for music, discussing their favorite bands and the power of lyrics that spoke to them. Andy was captivated by YN's intelligence and her ability to understand the depth of lyrics.

Meanwhile, Spencer had been watching from a distance, intrigued by the connection forming between Andy and YN. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, as he too had been captivated by her beauty and charm. Determined not to let Andy have all the fun, so Spencer finally decided to make his move.

Spencer approached YN with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with a mix of confidence and vulnerability. He effortlessly charmed her with his quick wit and playful banter. YN found herself laughing uncontrollably, feeling an undeniable chemistry with Spencer that she couldn't ignore.

As the days turned into weeks, YN found herself torn between two incredible men. Andy, with his poetic soul and unwavering passion, made her feel alive and understood. Spencer, with his infectious energy and ability to make her laugh, brought a lightness to her life that she had never experienced before.

Unable to choose between them, YN decided to be honest with both Andy and Spencer about her feelings. She explained that she cared deeply for both of them and didn't want to hurt either of them.

[moderngroupieanonymous]

Backstage Blues

Confessions of a Modern Day Gr*upie: A Blurb

Description: This is a blurb, a non-chronological piece of my story that I think is relevant to share regarding what happens when you're scouted to go backstage to drink with the band and when to trust your gut when things go sour.

Warnings: Topics involving alcohol and sex will be mentioned. Definitely recommended for those 18+.

✯

I wasn't even planning to go to this show. But of course, it's those last minute decisions, those completely spontaneous tickets you buy at the door that end up leading to the most... interesting nights.

I had some friends from out of town visiting my city and they wanted to go to a show at a small venue down the street from me. Personally, I never say no to a show, so I agreed. It would be fun. What's hilarious about this show was that we actually went to see the opener, because we discovered them through a separate band we had seen quite a few times. In fact, I had never heard of the main band before. Last time I checked their instagram they had around 100k followers. We were seeing them for their North American tour.

Misconception about being invited backstage is you have to put hours into your appearance. This is fully false. This night actually I had so much going on that day that I barely had time to get ready at all. In 20 minutes I quickly ate a few bites of pad thai, touched up my makeup and added liner, and threw together an outfit consisting of an old black skirt, black flowing top, and knee high boots. My hair was fully just tossed into one of those messy buns (I'm cringing at this fanfic term bye) because I didn't have enough time to style it.

Getting to the venue that I arrived late to, I bought my ticket at the door and scanned the crowd to meet my friends who were already there for some time. I had been to the venue before, it was one of those old timey ones that have been around for years and years, which gave it a lot of character. Once inside, I began looking for my friends, taking in my surroundings while making my way through the small venue. While I counted the lingering stares from people as I walked by I immediately noted I was probably a little over dressed for the crowd/ fanbase (again, we were there to see the opener, so I had no clue what the crowd would be like for the main act). I didn't mind it though. I'm a firm believer in wearing whatever you feel good in. If you feel good, your energy is right, and your energy is what attracts others to you. It makes you magnetic.

Another misconception about being invited backstage is that you have to be front row. It's funny because my experiences have been quite the opposite. And once I tell you it makes a lot of sense. When a band is on stage they have no way of keeping track of you, they have other things to worry about, obviously. On their end, they don't have the opportunity to be the ones to invite you backstage. In a case like this, it's all up to you, aka being at the stage doors or waiting by the tour bus to catch the artists while they're not working (more of this type of story to come in my other writings). But no, this is not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about being scouted to go backstage. Completely different. And much more... spontaneous? Much less... effort? Much... different, to say the least.

So, no. I was not front row for this show. Once I finally met my friends we stayed in the wayyy back of the venue the duration of the show (after we pushed our way to a decent spot to see the opening band). We actually were by the merch table, close to the bar where we were able to get a few drinks. I was honestly vibing to the music and we all were dancing and just having a good time. It was nice to experience a show with low stress since we genuinely were experiencing this band the first time.

As the night went on, I became distracted by this man who kept brushing past me and running around throughout the venue, tending to the merch table behind us, etc. I honestly at first thought he was a roadie, but I'd soon find out later in the night that he was the band's manager, the main act. I tried not to be too concerned by him as we listened on to the show. He, however, also noticed me, probably from the amount of times he may or may not have purposely brushed by me in his mysterious haste.

"Here, put this on, we love free advertising," I hear a voice from behind me, the manager, offering me a beer sleeve with the band's logo on it for me to slip my White Claw into. I laugh and thank him, accepting the sleeve and putting my now almost-empty White Claw into. I didn't think much of it at the time, my friends and I laughed at it and continued on with enjoying the music. He probably had it lying around and noticed my group having a good time in the back and just handed it out. It was 5 bucks after all, I checked the merch stand.

Not 20 minutes later I get another feeling that his eyes were on me again. Out of the corner of my eye I see him approach me the second time and I'm curious to find out what he'll come up with next. More free merch?

"You finished your drink?" he shouts over his band's music, noting I'm no longer holding onto the logo decorated beer sleeve I had slipped into my bag after downing the rest of my seltzer. I laughed and told him I did.

"Want me to get you another drink?" He says to me. Is this guy hitting on me now? I push this thought away for the moment because, obviously I will never say no to a drink. The bar was right behind us anyways, so what's the harm?

"I'd love that," I reply.

"Great, come with me backstage we'll get you a shot. You can bring your friends," he instructs me as he already takes off towards the back of the venue, expecting me to follow. Why was this dude always in such a damn rush for fucks sake?

I barely had time to grab my friends, tell them what was going on over my shoulder, and drag them with me as we weave through the crowd following Manager Man towards the restricted areas. It had become official. We were going backstage. Like I said before, half the time you're scouted to go backstage, it happens when you least expect it. Let's review so far though, what I've learned:

Wear what you feel most confident in, because you'll feel your best.

Being front row for this specific situation does not matter.

Enjoy yourself and your energy will attract others around you.

Manager Man lead us through a series of restricted areas, moving security ropes, and breezing quickly by signs screaming AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, until we finally made it to the green room where the sounds from the stage all became a dull muffle. Taking in my surroundings it was as I expected any green room would appear. Instrument cases were haphazardly stacked in the corner of the room, clothing garments strewn on the floor, and every inch of tabletop space of the vanities were covered in half-eaten sandwiches, cracker boxes, water bottles, and various handles of alcohol. Super glamorous.

He poured us each a shot of Jameson served in red solo cups which I happily accepted, letting the brown liquor warm me from the inside out. My friends were chatting over the opening band's performance as Manager Man pulled me aside.

"So, you have any plans after this?" he muses. I told him not as of now (since literally 3 hours ago I wasn't even going to this show in the first place).

"Well, you can come out with us after. Hang on the bus with the guys and drink with the band," he says to me before taking a sip of his beer and allowing me to mull over his offer. I knew exactly where this was going at this point. I guess managers are in charge of much more than bookings and merchandise... they're even in charge of recruiting women to entertain the band after the show. This was where my first yellow flag came up, because truthfully, I didn't even know this band existed a week ago. Prior to this, all times I've hung out with bands I had spoken to them before, or we had at least followed each other on social media.

But, at this point, Manager Man needed me more than I needed him. He wanted dive bar recommendations for us to all go to after, and, it being my city, I knew every place they could be interested in. So for now, I thought we'd entertain the idea. After we said we were down for the after show, Manager Man gathered up our passes to wear so security wouldn't harass us when we stayed after the show.

We chatted a bit more. He told me he liked my name. He told me I reminded him of someone he knew. He handed my friends and I our passes and as he walked us out he again said my name a few more times to himself like he liked the way it rolled off his tongue.

After being lead back to the crowd, before we knew it, the band had finished up their encore and the concert goers began to clear out. We watched the roadies scurry about the stage, packing up the equipment as we chatted amongst each other while the venue cleared out. Security took note of our passes and looked between us and Manager Man, silently putting the pieces together. As the crowd thinned, I took note of other girls lingering with passes as well. Damn, more recruits? Manager Man definitely was a busy man. I had to give him props.

It was only when we were ushered outside by Manager Man and corralled to stand by the tour bus parked outside the venue where I really started to see what was going on. We really were there for the band members to pick and choose to join them on the tour bus. Other fans without passes who had gathered outside the venue in hopes of seeing the band too were also taking notice. It was at this point my friends and I really were getting turned off by the entire thing. Manager Man kept coming up to me in between his runs back and forth between the venue and loading the bus to check in with me, asking if we needed anything, and making sure he knew the bar I recommended to him from earlier in the night. He sure did cover his bases this dude. And one by one, I watched each of the band members load onto the bus.

That's when I saw him. One of the guitarists from the band, who was chatting with two guy fans about their set next to the bus. He was hot. I honestly was staring a little longer than I should have, and right when I was about to look away was when he noticed. He locked eyes with me as the fans continued to chat to him, and he also didn't look away. I then watched as his eyes slowly scan the length of my body and was almost shocked by how bold he was with it. My friends even took notice at this interaction.

That's when another girl, bolder than me, went right up to him and within 5 minutes they both went onto the bus together to join the rest of the band. Could I have done the exact same thing and have gotten onto the bus, leaving the rest of my friends behind? Yes. Would it have been worth it? No. Because clearly in this case, it doesn't fucking matter to these guys. In the case of living up to a certain image of being surrounded by women as the expectation of men in successful bands, clearly these guys were... dare I say... desperate. I saw right through it. And I know my worth.

I knew where they were going on their tour bus. I was the one who told them which bar to go to. Could we have gone to the bar anyways and have met up with the guys then? Sure, if I really wanted to see things through with the guitarist. I think it's okay to go to certain lengths to get the things we want from this scene, but I also think it's more important to value ourselves as individuals and the morals we have. And this situation just felt ultimately gross to me at the end of the day. So, my friends and I ended up leaving. I wished Manager Man a wonderful night with his guys as they head of to the bar I sent them to, and we want our separate ways.

Oh, and the guitarist followed me on Instagram a week after the show.

✯

AN: Hellooooo babies! This was a longer one... Not quite how you expected it to end, right? Well, don't worry, my success stories are well on their way. I think these side stories/blurbs are important to share because they're more or less lessons I've learned along the way of things that I've experienced in this scene. I want you all to be as informed and prepared as you can. Much more to come! xx

As always, my asks and messages are always open! <3

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

163. Bejeweled

Midge puts on her coat and leaves the apartment.

With Joel, it took years before he became bored with her. Before he decided to throw their life away. With Gordon, it’s taken less than two months.

Back when she was shiny and new - the new toy he could play with - she excited him. She felt amazing because he thought she was amazing.

And now that he’s bored with her, she feels dull and lifeless.

She arrives at a club in midtown, just wanting to laugh, wanting to remember what it’s like to walk into a room and be seen.

Of course the person who spots her first is the one who always sees her.

His whole face lights up when she walks in, his eyes shimmering in the darkness of the room, and she’s drawn to him like a magnet. It seems he feels the same, as he abandons his friends in order to meet her halfway, his cigarette poised between his fingers.

She feels herself smile, suddenly feeling too warm beneath her coat as he looks at her with that very bad smile. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” She greets.

“I could say the same for you,” he replies. “Haven’t seen you around much lately.”

She shrugs noncommittally. “I’ve been busy, but tonight...” She takes a deep breath and sighs. “I have all the time in the world.”

His grin softens. “Then I guess it’s my lucky night.”

She slips her coat off, revealing the dress underneath. A light blue, the beading shimmers in the light, and she watches as his gaze darkens. She smirks. “Good?” 

He chuckles a little nervously, a color she’s not used to seeing on him. “Any doubt about my favorite color has gone right out the fucking window.”

She laughs, and it feels good. It feels good to laugh with him. To sit with him at the bar and drink and banter. To be with someone who doesn’t ever feel contempt with the familiarity of her. To be with someone who loves her.

Because he does. She knows he does.

A while later, when she’s two drinks in, the band starts playing a slower number, and he offers his hand. She slips hers into it, enjoying the warmth of his skin as he leads her to the dance floor. He pulls her close, guiding their steps, and before she knows it, she’s resting her head against his shoulder, her fingertips delicately running along the back of his neck.

“Midge...?” He asks quietly. “I...I’m going to hate myself for asking this, but...”

She lifts her head to look up at him, that uncharacteristically unsure expression on his face again. She tilts her head curiously.

He sighs, but he continues to move with her. “Don’t you have a man waiting for you?”

Of course he knows. She and Gordon haven’t been particularly public with their relationship, but they also haven’t been hiding it. But these last couple of weeks, it hasn’t even felt like they’re together. They haven’t spent more than a couple of passing moments alone together, so...

"No,” she answers decisively. “No, Gordon and I are...we’re over.”

Lenny watches her, clearly seeing the gears turning in her mind. “Does he know that?” He asks.

“He’s bored,” she answers, and his arm tightens around her a little. “He doesn’t want me anymore, and honestly...I don’t think I ever really wanted him."

He keeps dancing with her, considering his next words, and then he asks, “Then why were you with him?”

“Honestly?” She asks. He nods once. “Because you weren’t around. Because of the bag. And the lecture. And I missed being wanted.”

He dips his head until barely a breath of space separates their lips. “Darling, I have always wanted you,” he murmurs.

She smiles uncontrollably, her face flushing, and she’s grateful for the darkness of the club to hide it. “Always?” She asks.

“I’m sitting in the back of a police car, feeling very sorry for myself, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is thrown in next to me in a...” He inhales deeply, and his gaze rakes over her. “...very sheer nightgown in my favorite color. And then a few days later, I learn that she’s also the funniest woman I’ve ever met. How am I not supposed to want her?”

She bites her lip gently and dips her head, suddenly feeling shy despite the fact that she has already been as intimate with him as she’s been with anyone in her life.

“The bag is gone,” he continues. “As are all the contents. You’re working again, so I don’t anticipate another lecture in the future, and...” She looks up, and he smiles down at her. “I’m around,” he finishes quietly.

She smiles softly. “Yeah...you are,” she breathes.

She tilts her head upward, and he meets her in the middle with a slow, sweet kiss.

[enzymedevice]

So I recently finished watching The Crow: Stairway to Heaven (1998), the 22-episode TV series based on the film The Crow (1994) and the comic of the same name. I’ve seen a few posts here and there about it being weird, but since even a lot of those have come from people who haven’t actually seen it who're going off hearsay, I haven’t seen any definitive list of the weird things that are in it. There are many weird things in it and here they are. Suffice to say there are spoilers in here so don’t read it if you live in a world where people could really actually care about spoilers for The Crow: Stairway to Heaven.

I’m going to assume that anyone who doesn’t follow me who’s interacting with this post has seen the film, but just in case (because I know 90% of my followers are here for Naruto), uh, musician Eric Draven is resurrected by a magical crow to exact bloody vengeance upon the people who murdered him and his fiancé Shelly Webster. Daryl Albrecht is the cop assigned to their murder case. Sarah Mohr is a young teenage girl who is also there, and her mother Darla is a drug addict who is romantically involved with one of the murderers. Murderers aside, I think that’s the reasonable dramatis personae.

The first episode is just a retelling of the 1994 film but with all the swear words and most of the gore taken out. Also Eric sings a song and it sucks. Those who watch this show will be hearing that song so very much.

The most important thing to know about this show right off the bat is that it is a police procedural and killing is wrong.

Eric roundhouses a guy for smoking a cigarette.

Good people get resurrected by crows; evil people get resurrected by cute albino pythons.

Eric cannot enter a room without dropping from the ceiling or jumping in the window. I love him but because he’s a cool martial arts guy he cannot use a door.

He also has a lot of casual conversations while exercising shirtless.

At one point he is lying on the floor and gets up to greet someone by doing a handstand.

At another point I’m pretty sure he snaps a man's fucking neck with his thighs? Not to death but like, to pain, certainly.

Dragula plays in episode 4. Episode 1 contains the song Powertrip by Monster Magnet, which isn’t particularly significant, but they’re my favourite band so I noticed.

Episode 5 is the circus episode. Pretty much every episode is a themed episode that most shows only get round to over the course of like 8 seasons? Episode 10 concerns daredevil car racing.

There's a part where the police are searching for Eric and a witness has described a man who's "Asian or Hispanic" and Albrecht's face lights up so quick like "Woah! I know an Asian or Hispanic man!" and that’s how he knows it’s Eric.

Sarah is a lead in this show and she and Eric kinda form the fun tag team for banter. She waves her hand in front of his face and looks at him funny when he’s having a traumatic flashback. Their dialogue is my favourite. Here are some examples:

SARAH: How many [pull-ups] did you do?

ERIC: I stopped counting at 200.

SARAH: That’s not normal.

SARAH: You need to get out more.

ERIC: But I don’t wanna get out more!

SARAH [ABOUT ERIC]: The man doesn’t eat. The man doesn’t sleep. He only sits around thinking about his dead girlfriend.

ERIC: I’m getting these weird feelings…

SARAH: I hate to break it to you, but all your feelings are weird.

Reincarnation is also a thing separately from the resurrection. Eric and Shelly have met each other in every single one of their previous lives, during which they have always been played by the same actors.

Several random characters are also shown to be able to commune with the dead, including a child who lives in a cage.

Eric talks someone down from a suicide.

Eric talks someone down from doing a revenge killing.

There’s a recurring character who’s a hacker called Nytmare.

Shelly becomes corporeal twice, once by possessing someone and once by angelic powers or something I’m not sure I didn’t listen. Oh yeah Shelly's also a lead in this show, waiting in the afterlife and sometimes being homoerotic with deceased women Eric chastely assists.

One episode features the Russian mob.

There’s a character called the Skull Cowboy. Now, the Skull Cowboy is in the original comic, but unlike the original comic he is regrettably not a skull nor demonstrably a cowboy, save for his cool jacket. He’s great though, shoutout to my man the Skull Cowboy.

Eric beats up a fire-eater with a fire extinguisher.

In one episode Eric's convinced he's gonna die so he puts on a white t-shirt and blue jeans. That’s mildly amusing because he’s a goth but I mostly bring it up because this was the episode I truly became aware of how sculpted his pecs are.

In episode 9, Eric is hypnotised by a man (recurring character) who believes John Lennon's consciousness is alive on the internet and he mentally regresses to one of his past lives, when he was an Indigenous American man. I have no further comment on this episode other than the fact that They Do A Mysterious Ritual and there are slurs.

Episode 20 establishes Eric as a Vietnamese orphan adopted during the war. That’s the secret brother episode (Eric's secret brother is played by Corey Feldman).

One further comment on episode 9, actually - Eric makes a gay joke in it which I can add to my Eric/Albrecht ship manifesto.

Eric opens a portal to hell.

From hell emerges a man with electricity superpowers who kidnaps a bunch of people.

Eric jumps off a high balcony and spins round and round to defeat the electricity guy.

He also does a front flip off some stairs while casually maintaining a conversation, as touched upon earlier.

There's a multi-episode courtroom drama storyline wherein Eric is on trial for Shelly's murder.

Oh yeah people just straight-up know he’s alive. He works as a bouncer in the bar his band used to play at. Darla works at the police station and attends Alcoholics Anonymous but then struggles with relapse as a whole storyline.

Albrecht gets a new partner whose struggles with PTSD are a whole storyline. Albrecht's also in the most complicated on-again off-again relationship with a District Attorney of all time. This one bullet point is him covered - he otherwise doesn’t have a lot going on aside from that one time he gets kidnapped and taken to an island and Eric has to save him in a comedically tiny boat.

Eric's murder trial is very funny to me: firstly, it’s a clip show, 12 episodes into the season. Secondly, a lot of the defence is resting on how the prosecution is discriminating against Eric for being a goth. A quotation from Eric's attorney: "He’s not on trial for being different, he’s on trial for murder!"

Eric's described as "different" a lot. He also describes himself as such when prompted, such as in this exchange:

WHOEVER SAID THIS LINE: Why do you look like that?

ERIC: Because I’m different.

Anyway the trial gets really boring but Eric has a cute ponytail and just looks soooo dapper in his little suit; I want to make him a nice sandwich for his packed lunch and pat him on the head as I send him on his way.

He’s pronounced guilty and then in the next episode immediately pronounced innocent. Spoilers.

There is a time loop episode during which Eric is forced to say the words "pretty please with sugar on top."

There is a plot to resurrect Rasputin. Rasputin's corpse is burned in a fire and his ghost appears superimposed upon the air.

Eric does a backflip towards the Rasputin corpse fire.

This is in hell. The guy resurrecting Rasputin needs to open specifically Eric's hell portal from the electricity superpowers episode.

In a completely different fire, Eric burns a valuable Russian manuscript which is entrusted to him.

Eric makes Albrecht hold some seaweed. I dunno, it made me laugh.

There is a secret organisation who have members in very significant positions in society and they have figured out how to separate a person's soul from their body and transplant it into a different body. One of them inspects Eric's abs for what felt to me like an extremely long time.

There’s a woman resurrected by a different crow and she cries black goo so I really hope Eric can cry black goo as well and that’s just a canonical thing about the undead.

In episode 18, the background music is diegetic but only for Eric, and it turns him evil.

Episode 18 prominently features Canadian rock band Econoline Crush, who perform two songs from their 1997 album The Devil You Know, including All That You Are, the song they sued Nickelback for ripping off to make the 2003 single Figured You Out. Eric is determined to win against them in the battle of the bands.

The rest of the series cameos a veritable smorgasbord of Canadian rock bands, but I didn’t recognise any of their songs by name and nobody says the names of the other bands out loud as many times as they said Econoline Crush so I guess they weren’t paid as much.

Female Crow - her name is Talon - has cool eye makeup that I like a lot. I don’t know what else to say about her that doesn’t sound misogynistic on my part, because the writers writing her are misogynistic.

There’s an episode where pretty much all Eric does is walk through the forest and hallucinate a dance sequence from one of his past lives.

The Crow in this series' continuity is Eric's alter, kind of. It has a separate soul, as evidenced by the fact that it remains in his body when his soul is put into the computer by the secret organisation's evil scientists who are pretending to be Shelly.

I guess I’ve been a bit rude referring to what it does as what Eric's doing this whole time but there’s no clear delineation between the two personality-wise and I could not tell you which moments are supposed to be the alter because I did not know it was a thing until episode 21 of 22, sorry.

Also the Crow makeup just manifests on Eric's face supernaturally. Sometimes it just turns round and has done a transformation sequence.

So the secret organisation kidnap the crow (the magical bird) and use its blood to do a ritual on Eric's grave and resurrect the Crow (the alter) in a separate body from Eric's so that it can fight him.

Eric is offered "steaming hot wieners." He nibbles one with care.

The Crow draws on a wall in blood, just like my favourite moment in the original comic (sadly not the Cat in the Hat though. That would have truly made this whole thing worth it).

A guy has transferred his consciousness into the body of his personal trainer, played by Michael Weatherly, who after 13 seasons of NCIS I didn’t enjoy looking at.

When the two bodies indirectly touch through Shelly's corporeal form, they merge into one in a golden fizzle of regeneration energy.

There's more after that but it ends on a cliffhanger.