#she had voodoo stuff too

[lovezacblr]

When granny lived in North Hollywood

[drmaddict]

The Lovers

Summary: Jason accuses (Y/n) the town witch that she has cast a spell on him. Neither of them would have expected, what was really behind it.

Wordcount: 7.370

"Ah!" I cried out in surprise, when I heard the crack and the dull bang behind me and whirled around. I had expected to see a heavy branch lying on the ground and not... Jason Carver?

"What are you doing here?" I shouted, still slightly tense.

He got to his feet and knocked the leaves off his jacket. "I could ask you that? What are you doing?", he asked angrily, pointing at the basket I was holding.

I looked at him in irritation.

"What kind of voodoo are you going to do, huh?"

I raised an eyebrow. "They're daisies, you moron." I demonstratively held up one of the small flowers. "You can use them to make an ointment for sunburn." I rolled my eyes. "You followed me all the way through this forest to play witch hunting? How long have you been following me?" He was absolutely crazy.

He came up to me. "Long enough to see that these aren't daisies.", he bit out, holding up the second plant in my basket.

"Yes, this is St. John's wort. My cousin has neurodermatitis. The creams from the pharmacy are all too expensive and they don't want anyone else to pay for them, so I make her one from this. It soothes chapped skin." I grabbed the little plant and threw it back into the basket. "And before you ask.", I continued, reaching into the basket. "Mint. For my satanic tea against bloating."

Jason looked at me dully, then shook his head. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm just here collecting some herbs and you're the stalker, who's been following me through the forest for at least fourty minutes.", I hissed.

Jason took a step back. "I know you're one of those weird wiccans."

"Witch."

"You admit it!"

"I'm correcting you.", I said simply.

He furrowed his eyebrows in irritation.

"Wicca is a religion. Most wiccans are witches. Not all witches are wiccans. It's like quadrates and squares." I teased him. "If you're going to hate me, you should at least use the right terms."

He looked at my basket. "Just because you're not doing anything wrong today, doesn't mean you're otherwise innocent."

I sighed. I just wanted my peace and quiet. "Yes, I'm usually sin itself. Can I have my peace now, please?"

"No."

I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "You know what? Do what you want." With that, I turned around and tried to concentrate on the plants. "At least don't trample everything.", I snapped at him and kept walking.

"What is this stuff really for?"

"I just told you."

"You're lying."

"I could pass a lie detector test Carver."

I bent down to grab a small wild garlic plant.

"What's that?" Jason asked, almost angrily.

"Wild garlic.", I explained. "It's simply delicious in food." I threw the plant into the basket. "You're welcome to keep stalking me Jason, but try to be less angry."

"Why?"

"Because I want this", I pointed to my basket, "to have positive energies."

"It's a plant."

"Do you pray for other people's misfortune?"

"No! I'm not."

"Then don't spoil my work, wanting to do something good for the people in my life... Even if it's just to help them with sunburn."

Jason stopped short and looked at me insistently. "How do I know you're not lying?"

I looked at him as calmly as you can look at someone who calls you Satan's bitch. It was his upbringing or the media. How was he supposed to know any better? "Look for Hildegard von Bingen's herbal bible in the library. I know everything about medicinal herbs from her."

"I'm not reading the book of some devil worshipper."

"Hildegard von Bingen was a nun.", I corrected him.

Jason faltered.

"If you don't trust me, maybe you trust one of your people."

He walked slowly backwards. "I'll keep an eye on you.", he said emotionlessly.

"I'll see you at school."

"I'm just saying. Be prepared for something to come up today.", I grumbled to Eddie, poking at my salad.

Eddie shook his head, upset. "He's been stalking you?"

"Yes.", I laughed. "If he hadn't been alone, I would have been really worried."

"He's out of his mind."

"Is that news?"

I didn't know what to expect today. That got me down. Ever since my former friend Melody unintentionally outed me as a witch, I never knew what to expect the next day. She had snooped through my things and found the little pentagram pendant. After the whole school knew about it, even the head teacher called me in and told my parents.

My dad thought I had a chip on my shoulder, but otherwise wasn't interested and my mom... Well, before I explained what I was doing and that the newspapers had no idea, it took a good three hours. Three hours with a lot of tears.

I never spoke to Melody again. Eddie had taken me in with the outsiders and Jason and his gang wanted to see me at the stake.

"We'll keep watch.", Eddie said, looking down the hall.

"My heroes.", I sighed dramatically.

He grinned and bowed exaggeratedly.

I was sitting at one of the tables at the edge of the forest, scribbling listlessly on my piece of paper, when a book banged on the table next to me.

I literally jumped up and stumbled backwards, so frightened, that I toppled over the bench and fell onto my back.

I saw blonde hair and a green and white jacket.

I picked myself up stiffly. "What the hell are you?" I grumbled. "Are you making any noise at all?"

I knocked the grass off my butt and gave Jason a dirty look. He looked back just as crossly.

I looked at the book on the table. Hildegard von Bingen. "You've read it.", I said in surprise.

"Skimmed it."

I looked at his angry face and sighed. "What's wrong now?"

"The herbs might be good, but you're doing something."

I ran a hand over my face. "Jason.", I began humbly. "I'll leave you alone. Can't you do me a favor and do the same to me?"

"No!"

"Why not?" I whined.

He was breathing heavily and turned away in a huff. "Because you did something. You did something to ME. ADMIT IT!"

I faltered. "Jason what are you talking about?"

"Why do I feel this way if you haven't done some witchcraft to me?" he hissed, coming closer and closer to me. I backed up until I bumped into a tree. Jason encircled me with his arms.

"I don't know what you're talking about.", I said almost fearfully. "I don't know what you mean Jason."

"Stop saying that!"

"Say what?"

"MY NAME!"

"Jas-" I bit my lips.

He was breathing heavily. "Undo it."

"I didn't do anything. You're scaring me."

"Undo it!", he growled. He looked at me almost frantically.

"You have to tell me what's wrong or I can't help you, but I didn't do anything."

"Then why do I feel like this?", he whispered angrily.

"How do you feel?", I asked, almost pleadingly. Hoping that he would stay calm.

"How do you feel Jason?"

No sooner had his name crossed my lips than he pressed his mouth to mine. Hard and unyielding. His hands held my head in place and his body pressed against mine. I was so caught off guard, that I just stood there, like a pillar of salt, waiting. Not quite grasping what was happening.

He abruptly disengaged and stumbled back. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Undo it.", he whispered.

I looked at him in disbelief. Not a word escaped my lips. Not a sound escaped my throat. Until a fuse in my brain clicked into place and I ran away. I ran away as fast as I could, not wasting a single thought on my stuff, which were still lying on the table.

"He's did WHAT?", shouted Eddie angrily.

I sat at the kitchen table of the trailer and looked at the tabletop in disbelief.

"I think I'm going to be sick.", I whimpered. No. I really felt sick. I was sick to my stomach. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I made it just in time to take the contents of my stomach to the toilet.

Eddie stumbled after me and held my hair out of my face. He stroked my back reassuringly.

When I was sure nothing more was coming, I dropped onto my butt and felt the tears on my cheeks. I wrap my arms around my legs. Eddie held out a bottle of water to me.

"Take a deep breath.", he mumbled.

"They're going to kill me Eds."

"They won't. We'll keep you safe." He pulled me into his arms. "Nothing's going to happen."

My backpack was gone, of course. What had I expected?

I sat in the library and waited impatiently for Gareth to come. I hid behind my book and tried to stay calm. One of the boys had been keeping an eye on me all day. Just in case.

Jason had been like a madman. He'd gotten it into his head that I'd cast a spell on him. He had kissed me. Jason Carver. The poster boy Jason Carver somehow had... had a crush on me and now thought I'd made him. Jason Carver had a crush on me and he hated himself for it. I was startled when I heard a backpack fall onto the table, but before I even looked up, I saw Jason's back disappearing quickly and my backpack in front of me. I reached for it hesitantly. Slowly pulled open the zipper. Carefully peeked inside. Nothing happened.

"Your backpack is back?"

I winced.

"Since when are you so jumpy?" Gareth grinned.

"Since I'm waiting for the Inquisition.", I grumbled.

POV Jason

How had I let myself get so carried away? How could I have been so stupid? Why hadn't I stayed away from her? I had given her far too much power over me.

My head was buzzing with thoughts as I walked into the theater room as Luke's note told me to.

That little witch. Why had she run away, when this was exactly what she had wanted? That had been her goal. To cast a spell on me. Had she realized that this couldn't be love? Had she perhaps really done nothing - I interrupted the thought immediately. Of course she had done something. I would never think like that about someone, who went against everything I stood for.

The door of the theater room slammed shut loudly. I turned around with a jolt and caught sight of Eddie Munson.

"Ball boy. Glad you got my message."

I looked at the note in my hand. How could I have been so stupid?

"I heard about your little meeting with (Y/n) in the woods.", he continued, walking slowly towards me.

I shouldered my backpack and moved towards the door, but Munson grabbed me firmly by the shoulders and stopped me.

"Not so fast. Where are you going?"

"Let me go!"

"Why is that? I guess it's not so much fun being hassled yourself?"

I pulled my shoulders out of his grip and pushed him away. "That's what she wanted! She started this voodoo.", I hissed. "So tell her to undo it or leave me alone!"

Munson laughed. First in disbelief, then louder, harder, until he seemed almost unable to breathe. "Oh God!", he struggled to breathe. "You really believe that."

"What's so funny?", I shouted angrily.

Munson held his stomach and sat down on one of the folding chairs. "You have a crush and you don't realize it." He wiped a tear from his face.

"I don't-"

"You think you're pretty important, don't you?", he interrupted me, still slightly breathless. "Don't you think she'd have better targets, than some bore with a twist in his panties?"

I turned away angrily and left.

"Bother her again and you can find out how to throw your balls with crutches.", he shouted after me.

I pushed the door open hard and stormed through the corridors.

I don't have a crush on that witch. I don't want anything from her. No matter how many dreams I had in which she lay with me and in which she seduced me with her smile and her scent... Those dreams weren't real. They weren't my dreams. They couldn't be mine.

"Jason." my name fell from her lips like a prayer. She clawed at my back. I kissed her neck, marking it as my own, as I thrust into her again and again. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower. I let her dance on the threshold of pleasure. Never quite gave her what she wanted. I devoured her and she gave herself to me. (Y/n's) eyes were glassy and yet warm. Looked up at me with affection and admiration. Her hands caressed my back. Her legs wrapped around my hips. She moved towards me. We were united. Two bodies and two souls in harmony.

She twitched around me. Her body tensed. She collapsed in waves of excitement. She took me with her and caught me.

The fabric under my cheek was damp. I sat up with a jerk. I was alone. Alone in my room. Just me in my bed. Sweat was sticking to my body. I wiped the saliva from the corner of my mouth in disgust. My shorts were sticking to my crotch. I pulled a face.

Why in God's name did I have to be the target of this witchcraft? Why did these dreams have to feel so good? Why did I feel so safe in them? She was a witch! She was evil. She was not gentle and sweet. I had to remind myself that she had cast a spell on me. I couldn't love her!

Where did that word come from? Why did it want to creep into my head?

I felt tears running down my cheeks. I don't want to have these thoughts!

(Y/n)s POV

The last week I had gotten away with it. None of the jocks had hit on me or hinted at anything. It just made me even more paranoid.

I was waiting for a prank. Some kind of humiliation. I was almost longing for it so I could finally get it over with.

I was walking home when a sadly too familiar car drove up slowly beside me. I didn't look up, stubbornly continued straight ahead.

I heard the side window being rolled down.

"Get in!" Jason said stubbornly.

I walked on silently.

"Get in the car now!"

"No!" I replied stubbornly.

The car came to a halt. A door opened. I quickened my steps.

A hand clutched my upper arm. "I told you to get in.", he hissed.

"But I don't want to.", I spat back.

His grip on my arm became painfully tight. "And I don't want to have these thoughts, so get in."

I tried to pull away, but it didn't help. His hands were on my arms like vices.

"What are you going to do?"

"We're going to church."

I looked at him, perplexed. "Is the pyre ready or what? For fuck's sake, Carver! I don't want anything from you except to be left alone! Even if I could do what you accuse me of, which I can't by the way, why would I want the guy who's been spitting on me for months?"

He looked at me blankly. "We'll go to the church now and talk to the priest."

I realized tears were welling up in my eyes. It was all so absurd. It... It was humiliating. Someone had a crush on me and it was so absurd that it was really happening that he suspected I had bewitched him.

"Now come on!" he ordered, pulling me roughly towards his car.

I stumbled after him.

The drive was silent and tense. I had tried to jump out at a red light, but Jason had immediately had grabbed hold of me.

When we arrived at the church, Jason dragged me up the steps of the building and through the door into the large main room.

I had never been in a church before. My parents weren't believers, so there was never any reason to attend one.

He looked at me insistently.

I remained stubborn. "What? Did you expect me to burst into flames?"

His jaw tightened. "Come on." he growled.

Roughly, he dragged me to a small room and knocked.

Priest Mitchel opened it for us. "Jason. Hello... And you must be (Y/n)."

I nodded hesitantly.

"Can you give us a moment alone Jason?" the priest asked, stepping aside to clear the way into his office.

Jason reluctantly let go of me.

I cautiously stepped into the priest's office. I only knew him by sight, but he always seemed nice and friendly.

"Why don't you sit down for a minute? Would you like some tea?"

"Uh... No. Thanks."

He just nodded and sat down on an exercise ball opposite me. "They don't look particularly professional, but they're good for your back.", he smiled.

I just nodded. "My mom has one too."

He grinned. "Very well." He became more serious. "Jason told me about his situation." I stiffened. "Don't worry. I won't drag you to the torture chamber. But whether you've done anything or not... Jason... Got stuck on that idea and knowing the boy, he's not going to let it go."

I sighed. "So you're not getting out the pitchforks?"

He smiled. "No. Believe it or not. My wife went through a phase like you once."

"And if it's not a phase?"

"Then I pray you stay true to the right path anyway."

I looked thoughtfully at the table in front of me. "And how do I get rid of that witch hunter out there now?" I muttered. "You know him better than I do."

Father Mitchel looked thoughtfully at my bag. "You don't happen to have any herbs with you?"

I looked up irritated. "What? No. I was at school. What do I want with herbs there?" 

"Hm... Well, the tea will have to do then."

He reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a packet of fruit tea. Relaxed, he cut open a good six bags and tipped them into a small decorative bowl.

"What are you up to?"

He grinned. "We're breaking a spell for Jason's sake. Under my supervision, of course, so he'll feel more comfortable and confident about it."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Don't you always say you shouldn't lie?"

"Special situations call for special measures."

"You're a strange priest."

"And I'm very proud of that."

Less than five minutes later, I was sitting behind the church in front of a small bowl of fruit tea, trying to remain serious. Jason and Father Mitchel watched me from a safe distance, how I lit a small piece of paper on which my and Jason's names were crossed out.

Normally, you would use two candels with a connected wick to break a love spell, but Jason didn't know that.

I threw the note into the bowl and watched it burn. The tea left a sickeningly sweet smell, but the light breeze made it disappear quickly.

I waited patiently for the flames to recede and then grabbed the ashes to let them blow away with the breeze for show.

Jason watched everything with eagle eyes, but actually seemed a little calmer with Father Mitchel at his side.

I got up from my cross-legged position and lifted the bowl. A pretty little thing.

I put it in Father Mitchel's hand. He nodded at me with a smile. "If you ever think about it, the church is always open to you."

"That... That's very nice. Thank you."

"Well then. Accounting is waiting." He sighed and walked back around the building.

Jason looked at me appraisingly. I let him.

"Can you at least take me home now? I don't have any money for the bus."

He struggled with himself, but then motioned for me to follow him.

The journey was calm. Tense, but calm.

I quickly squeezed out of the car when we arrived at my house. "Thank you. Bye.", I mumbled and disappeared into the house as quickly as I could.

Hopefully, this haunting was finally over.

POV Jason

She kissed me so tenderly. Her arms were wrapped around my neck. Her body was warm as it pressed against mine. I could feel her breasts through both our shirts. I enjoyed her hands in my hair. I stroked her ribs. She giggled slightly. Bit my lower lip playfully. I laughed. I felt bliss. I felt light. Here in this meadow, lying on a scratchy picnic blanket, with her in my arms. She kissed the tip of my nose. She ran her thumb over my cheeks.

"I love you.", I murmured and gently kissed the diamond ring on her ring finger. 

I woke up suddenly. Annoyed, I hit the alarm clock and buried myself under the thick comforter again. Still slightly foggy, I tried to fall back asleep and continue dreaming where I had left off. I wanted to go back to the meadow and (Y/n)-

I stiffened up. No. No. No!

Why another dream like this? I curled up under the blanket and pressed my hands against my forehead. I tried to push these wishes out of my brain.

But she had dissolved the spell. Father Mitchel was there. That couldn't be. It couldn't be.

I wanted to be normal again.

POV (Y/n)

I sat on my favorite table in the woods and looked thoughtfully at my tarot cards. The lovers had been extremely persistent in my last readings. I threw all the cards back on the pile and shuffled them vigorously. That didn't make any sense. I haven't really felt it anyway.

I shuffled and suddenly one of the cards flew out of the pile. I turned it over and sighed in surrender. The fool glared at me maliciously. "All right. I get it.", I growled annoyed and put the cards on the table.

I heard it crack behind me. I quickly jumped up and looked around.

God no.

"Jason?"

He didn't say anything, just sat down at the table. He looked tired. Listlessly, he threw his backpack in front of him and lay down on it. But he kept his eyes on me. His eyes wandered to the cards on the table. Strangely, he didn't react.

I didn't say anything. I didn't move.

"What do you want here?"

He was still looking at the cards and reached for one that had clearly slipped out of the deck. When he threw it back down, annoyed, I saw the lovers again.

"I give up.", he mumbled. His voice was low and raspy.

I hesitantly sat down next to him. "What are you giving up on?"

"It didn't work... The voodoo from yesterday."

How could it? It was just for show. I sighed anyway. I had somehow hoped that maybe it would influence him enough to finally put his mind at rest.

"Go on, then. Do what you want.", he grumbled.

I furrowed my eyebrows in irritation. "What?"

"You wanted me. Go on."

I breathed in and out in a controlled manner to control my anger. "Jason.", I groaned, annoyed.

He looked at me devotedly. I rubbed my hands over my face. "Okay. How about you pray?"

He sat up. "You want me to beg you too?"

I rolled my eyes. "To your god, you idiot."

He faltered. "Why?"

"Can't you ask him what's right and what's not? Ask him for the truth."

He faltered. His eyes screamed with confusion.

"Come on," I groaned and put my cards away. "I'll even clean up."

He sat up straighter. Watched me. "All right.", he murmured. His hands pushed together almost cautiously. He rested his elbows on the tabletop and gave me another quick glance. "No games.", he ordered.

I held my hands up in the air defensively.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his hands. It seemed so... antiquated. The way he sat there mumbling to himself. The way he held his hands. It all looked so ancient.

I went about my own thoughts until I suddenly heard him sobbing.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts. Jason was still in his prayer position but I heard him turn up his nose.

His hands separated and immediately ran over his face. I quickly looked in my backpack and grabbed the small pack of tissues.

"Here." I held them out to him.

He grabbed it without a word and wiped his tears away, blew his nose loudly and then threw it on the table.

"Jason." I was practically whispering. As if every loud noise would destroy the world.

He just shook his head. "You're not supposed to say my name.", he replied just as quietly.

"Then what am I supposed to call you?"

He wiped away another tear. Silently, he looked at the tabletop.

"Why do you hate me so much?" I asked.

He grimaced. "I think we both know that the opposite is the problem."

I shook my head. "No, you're conflicted. You hate the... Interest in me."

He sighed and reached for another tissue. "Why do you have to be a witch?"

I smirked. "That's it?"

"You go against everything I believe in.", he pressed out.

I sighed. "How about you pay your debt?"

He looked at me, confused. "What kind of debt?"

"You dragged me to your priest and now you're meeting one of my friends. Don't worry. She's a Christian... And a witch."

He laughed dismissively. "No such thing."

I held out my hand to him. "Let's make a bet, then."

He hesitated. "What bet?"

I thought about it for a moment. "If I win, you stop putting the basketballtaining on the Hellfire meetings."

Jason's jaw tightened. He reached for my hand. "If I win, you come to the service with me. For a month."

"Deal.", I grinned.

"Deal.", he bit back.

"Here?" Jason asked incredulously as he brought the car to a halt.

My friend's house was a simple terraced house. A small front garden with flower beds and a bright yellow façade.

I just nodded. "Yup. This is where she lives." I got out and waited for him to do the same. We walked down the small driveway and Jason eyed the cross on the thermometer next to the door.

It opened and my friend Jannice emerged. She was in her mid-thirties and, as always, a bit over the top.

"(Y/n)!", she shouted happily.

"Hey Jan.", I laughed and let myself be pulled into a hug.

"You haven't been around for far too long. You really need to make me some of that lavender oil again. I've just dried some. You can take it with you right away. Uh! Who have we got here? Let me look at you!" She hugged Jason, who was completely taken by surprise and just stood there.

"I can't believe you're fishing for such a tasty treat. I would have bet on the curly head with the puppy eyes..."

"Jan, we're not a couple.", I quickly interrupted her.

"Oh... Oh well." She brushed one of her wild curls out of her face. "Well, come in."

We entered the house and went into the kitchen, which, as always, smelled wonderfully of all kinds of flowers and herbs.

Jason stopped in the doorway and looked at a small table with a cross and a candle on it. He looked at them closely. The candle was bright pink. Definitely not a candle that was available at the service.

He turned back to us. "(Y/n) says you are a Christian.", he said clumsily, but Jannice just smiled again.

"Yes, that's right."

"And she says you're a... witch."

She put a tin of cookies on the table. "Yes. That's true, too."

Jason looked at her suspiciously. "But that can't work."

Jabnice laughed. "Oh boy. Have a seat. Eat a cookie and then I'll explain everything you want."

Jason still sat stiffly on a chair. "What's in the candle?", he began and Jannice started.

"But there are rules!" Jason huffed.

Jannice nibbled on a cookie. "I live by the rule of being a good person. How many more rules do you need? Treat your fellow human beings with love and helpfulness."

Jason put his coffee cup down firmly on the table. "But then everyone can do what they want!"

"If the law was repealed tomorrow that killing someone was illegal, would you do it?"

"Of course not!"

"And yet there are people who do it despite the law." She poked Jason's chest with her finger. "Because our ethics aren't always governed by rules."

She leaned back in her chair. "Why do you want to understand it, if you're so sure of your religious interpretation?"

Jason faltered.

They were a mismatched pair. So different and yet so similar.

"Jason wants to broaden his horizons a little.", I interjected.

Jannice eyed him. "To broaden your horizons, your heart has to be open."

Jason sighed. "Open heart. I just don't get it!", he huffed.

Jannice put a hand on his shoulder. "Your head doesn't understand or your heart?"

Jason gave her a pained look. "What's the difference?"

She smiled gently at him, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Because your head only tells you what you've learned. Your heart tells you what you've always known."

Jason's eyes sparkled treacherously wet again, but he blinked bravely.

Jannice's gaze showed understanding. "You were never really allowed to ask questions."

Jason shook his head. "There were rules."

She nodded. "Well. I listen to every question. My door is always open."

Jason didn't respond. Just grabbed another lavender cookie.

He stayed silent for a long time on the drive back. "I really want to understand this," he whispered.

Even though I didn't know what had happened to him, I had seen that something inside him had been shaken awake. Something that he had put to sleep was stretching and trying to understand why it hadn't been allowed to go through all those years.

"These things take time," I replied calmly.

Jason nodded. "Should I apologize?"

I grinned. "What does your gut say?"

He shook his head, annoyed. "I thought we were focusing on the heart."

I laughed lightly. "Everyone gets their knowledge from somewhere else."

He was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry." His eyes shot to me very briefly.

I bit my lip. "It's okay."

"And now what?" Eddie asked me as we lay on the roof of the trailer and looked up at the sky.

I shrugged my shoulders, even though he couldn't see that. "I don't know."

He sighed. "Do you think he'll shut up now?"

I had to smile. "I think it's more likely that things are just starting now. You should have seen them." I let the thought slip away and the confusion of the last few days settled over me. "This is all so absurd.", I muttered.

Eddie laughed. "I still can't believe he thought you put a spell on him."

I sighed. "Why wouldn't he? I'm not exactly his typ."

Eddie nudged me. "Of course you're not. They're completely hollow."

I shook my head. A sad smile spread across my face. "Can you play my best girl-friend for a minute?"

"Shall I get the nail polish?"

I punched him lightly.

"Sure.", he grinned.

I closed my eyes in surrender to make it easier. "It was so far-fetched, that he could really have a crush on me, that he thought I'd jinxed him Eddie.... That's... Why is it so far-fetched to have a crush on me?"

He patted my shoulder. "I'm sticking to the fact, that they're hollow."

I continued to gaze at the stars and fell silent. How could you treat someone you had a crush on with such disgust?

"What's going to happen with him now?" Eddie had turned his head towards me and was looking at me questioningly.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, he understood that he thinks you're hot and now what?" He twirled his rings. "Are you going out? Are we still seeing each other? Do I have to find another club witch because you're hanging out with the cool kids now?"

I looked at him, confused. "We're not going out.", I blurted out. "We're just... I don't know. There's a truce?"

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "He fancies you (Y/n).", he said forcefully. "We know that now. How do you feel about him?"

I looked at him dully. "I've never thought about it.", I confessed. "Don't look at me like that! I was waiting for the funeral pyre."

Eddie shook his head in amusement. "I don't believe I'm saying this, but you two seem to be perfect for each other."

I nudged him roughly. "That's not funny!"

"Yes it is."

I pouted.

"So. How do you feel about him? Tell your best friend."

I rubbed my face. "I don't know. He... I mean he hasn't exactly been nice over the last few months." I listened to the rustling of leaves around us. "Can you like someone you're supposed to hate?"

"If we asked Jason, he'd say yes. Come on. What do you think of the Bible boy, non-judgmentally."

I sighed. "It's not that simple.... I mean... I don't know... He seems ambitious?"

"Very romantic." Eddie nodded, playing serious.

I groaned in annoyance. "He's probably quite good looking."

A grin appeared on his face.

"But I don't understand how he can dress like that.", I grumbled

Eddie continued to grin. "I knew you had a thing for Andrew!"

"Andrew?"

"Breakfast Club... Jock Andrew."

I blushed. "Shut up."

Eddie chuckled. "Would the basketball shorts on Jason be more your thing?"

"I told you to shut up."

"Oh, no. I'm going to enjoy this. Besides, he's definitely dreaming about banging you. So you can let it all out."

"He doesn't." I blurted out immediately.

Eddie couldn't stop laughing. "He has a cock and he likes you. He definitely dreams about you two fucking."

I gave him a petulant look. "You really are a catty best friend."

"And I love you very much."

"But... You could curse someone?", Jason asked me hesitantly.

We were sitting at the table in the woods again. As usual, Jason had come to me like a ghost and then started asking questions.

"I could probably try it. No idea if it would even work. Anyway. It's not my thing."

Jason looked very thoughtful as usual. "Why are you so insistent on only doing good?"

His blue eyes looked confused. "You could and you don't think anyone will punish you for it. Why don't you?"

"I never said I wouldn't be punished for it.", I objected.

He played with the zipper on his backpack. "And who's punishing you?"

"Karma.", I said simply. "Everything you send out comes back to you threefold."

"Hm."

He was silent for a moment. Let it sink in. "Okay."

Meanwhile, I sat in my seat and couldn't get the conversation with Eddie out of my head. Somehow the fact that Jason had admitted to having a crush on me had made it real. Did he really dream about me? Did I want him to dream about me? My ego wanted it, but did I want it?

I sighed without realizing it.

Jason looked at me questioningly. I waved him off. He looked thoughtfully at the table again. "Is there a spell to get rid of feelings?", he asked quietly.

I looked at him, irritated. "What?"

He rubbed his forehead. "I don't know which synapse has locked onto you, but we both know that there's no future in this. Apart from the fact that I very much doubt by now that you want anything from me." He stood up angrily. "So please. Do something and set me free."

I felt the anger boiling up inside me. First mixed with shame, then all the clearer and stronger.

"Set you free? I'm sorry that your limbic system isn't playing along with your image planning. I'm sorry that it's so disgusting to have a crush on me that you even have to assume you've been cursed. I'm sorry, Carver", I bit out his name, "that I'm not good enough."

I could feel the heat in my cheeks. "But you could at least have the decency not to throw that in my face every time you see me!"

I grabbed my backpack gruffly, which unfortunately only caused my tarot cards to fall out and scatter across the forest floor.

Jason just looked at me dully. A gust of wind hit me in the back and blew the last card away.

Jason bent down for it and held it out to me unseen.

I tryed hard not to crumple it up. The damn lovers. I breathed in and out in a controlled manner.

"I'm sorry-"

"Save it." I interrupted him immediately. I held my hands in front of me defensively. "Just let it go." I put the card with the others and zipped up the backpack.

The wind picked up, but I paid it no mind. I just kept going, no matter how hard the wind tore at me. How could the weather change so quickly?

"Now wait!" Jason called after me. "You can't walk through the forest in a storm like this. Let me drive you."

"No!"

I felt a hand around my upper arm, yanking me backwards. I heard a loud crack. A rumble of thunder rolled through the forest. The ground vibrated.

Jason had held me protectively against him. It was only when I managed to free myself that I saw his shocked face. When I turned around, I saw it.

A not exactly delicate branch was lying right where I was about to go. That thing would have easily broken every bone in my body.

As soon as I'd gotten over the situation, the wind died down, but only a little.

"Come on," Jason said and pulled me along with him. His hands were firmly on my shoulders and he swiftly escorted me to his car.

I stayed still for the rest of the journey. Jason had thrown his jacket on me because he had decided I would definitely be cold. The radio was switched off because it had started raining halfway and the signal was gone.

I hated that Jason's jacket smelled good. He wasn't supposed to smell good. He wasn't supposed to look good. His stupid upper arms shouldn't be so attractive.

Pouting, I averted my eyes.

"I can't see anything.", Jason grumbled loud enough to drown out the pattering of the rain. I didn't look at him. But then I felt the car stop.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't see five feet far. We have to wait for the rain to stop.", he explained defensively. I groaned in annoyance and rolled my eyes. Great. Still sulking, I crossed my arms and sank further into the seat.

He did the same. His upper arms stretched his shirt. I shook my head to get rid of the thought.

"I'm sorry, but you have to admit that I don't really fit into your life either.", he grumbled at me from the side.

I grit my teeth. "You know what? Maybe things would have been different, if you hadn't spent the last few months making my life a living hell.", I spat at him.

He looked back just as angrily. "And I'm sorry! God knows I'm trying to understand, but I can't change the past!"

"Where did your sudden interest in me come from anyway? Heh? How can you be so divided in your desires?"

His hands were clenched into fists. "Because not everyone can be who they want to be!", he shouted. "Because I can't like everyone! Because I can't just feel the way I want to!", he continued to shout, looking at me angrily. "Do you think I care what you do with your herbs? Do you think I want to be like that? I don't want to! I want to be normal, but I can't!" He breathed heavily and narrowed his eyes. "There were always rules. I was NEVER allowed to question them. I wasn't allowed to play with everyone. I wasn't allowed to be friends with everyone.... And I wasn't allowed to fall in love with everyone." He took a deep breath. "And people look... They talk when you don't do what they expect you to do." He looked stubbornly at the steering wheel. He continued to speak so quietly that I almost didn't hear him over the rain. "I'm not supposed to like you. I do... I do, but I'm not allowed to... Not until I... Before I... Before I've moved away and have a life for myself. Before I can... can be new."

And that's when a light went on. The fool. New. "Those were your cards!", I blurted out before I could hold it back.

"Wh-what?" He looked at me, snapped out of his emotions.

I rummaged for my little notebook. "I've been drawing the same four cards over and over again for weeks.", I explained. "The ten of wands. You suppress your feelings and desires and thus prevent yourself from being happy. The lovers. I probably don't need to explain. Then the tower. Tower moments bring down all walls... And the fool. New beginnings... Those were your cards!"

He looked at me, perplexed. "Okay?"

I looked at him insistently. "You... You can't spend your whole life pretending to be someone else!"

He sighed. "Not my whole... Just until... after college... Until I get a job." He closed his eyes. "That's a long time, but... Not forever."

"And then what? Do you just get up one day and become a different person? Ignore all the connections you've made up to that point?", I asked.

I saw the turmoil on his face. "What else am I supposed to do? If it gets out that I have a crush on someone like you, my father will call an exorcist."

I laughed in disbelief.

"I'm not joking! My father... is strict.", he concluded choppily.

I faltered. "How strict?"

He shook his head. I put a hand on his. He exhaled shakily. A tear rolled down his cheek. He didn't wipe it away. The rain continued to pelt down. Shielding us from the outside world.

"I can only really be me in my dreams.", he said more calmly now. "And now you've just snuck in there." He took a deep breath. Seemed to want to calm himself down.

"What am I doing in your dreams?" I asked cautiously.

"You just make me happy," he confessed. "You're there and give me so much affection. I can let myself go. I can laugh and... and... and I know I've ruined any chance of it really being like that." He roughly wiped the next tear from his face. "It drives me insane to wake up every morning and all of this is gone. I have to put that possibility of happiness behind me every morning and pretend that desire doesn't exist."

So that was him. Jason Carver. Behind the speeches and the facade. Behind the perfection and bravado. Broken. Unhappy. Alone.

"Jason.", I whispered.

He shook his head.

"Jason... I understand." I just said. "And... I think I can forgive you... With a little time."

He wiped more tears from his face. I squeezed his hand. "When you're ready, I'd like to meet the real Jason."

"I don't know when that will be.", he confessed.

"I can be very patient. But do me a favor."

He looked at me questioningly.

"No matter when you show the world, please figure out who you want to be by then."

His breath was shaky. "I'll try."

POV Jason

Seven years later

I sat exhilarated at the table of the small café, looking at my watch for the fifth time in two minutes. She probably wasn't coming. God it had been seven years. Seven years since we graduated. Since we only met rarely and secretly in the woods. Seven years since she had kissed me the last time we met. Seven years that I had thought about that kiss again and again, dreamt about it, longed for it. Seven years in which we had only exchanged letters and I had kept them all.

Seven long years in which so much could happen.

Seven years and now she was suddenly standing in front of me again. Grown up and as radiant as ever.

"Hi." She smiled gently at me.

"Hi." I whispered back in awe.

8 years later

She was lying in my bed. She cuddled up to me. It wasn't a dream. It was real. I smelled the scent of her hair. I felt her body against mine. I felt the warmth of her skin. I heard her steady breathing.

I pulled my arms tighter around her naked body and closed my eyes. It was real. We were both real.

9 years later

"Yes. Yes I do!", she smiled at me and euphorically wrapped her arms around me.

I felt a weight fall from my shoulders. She had said yes.

With nervous hands, I put the ring on her finger.

I immediately pulled her into a kiss, unwilling to let her get away again in the near future.

10 years later

I was lying with her in a meadow. The weather was warm but pleasant. The sun danced through the leaves above us.

We kissed lazily. I ran a hand under her shirt and over her ribs. She giggled. Ticklish as she was. She playfully bit my lip. Then kissed me on the tip of my nose. Stroked my cheek. I kissed the ring on her ring finger. "I love you.", I murmured.

She smiled warmly at me. "I love you.", she replied.

I smiled. "I've dreamt about this before.", I whispered.

"And is it as good as your dreams?"

I felt the warmth and bliss inside me and shook my head. "It's better." I kissed her lips softly. "It's real."

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 1-Black Penny

Summary: You grew up in the hustle and bustle of a city most of your life, so you packed your few belongings and headed straight to New Orleans. You hoped to live a simpler, quieter life on the Historic French Quarter. By day during the week, you helped manage Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo Shop and by nightfall you tended bar at Black Penny on the weekends.

You were aware mutants existed, and believed them to be just as ordinary as you but only with extraordinary abilities. After living a few years in NOLA, you had a knack of picking them out in a crowd and treated them no differently than you’d treat anyone else. You had many run in’s with mutants on Bourbon Street, but none as impactful as the day you ran into Remy LeBeau.

A/N: Character Intro, She/Her Pronouns, GambitX!FemaleReader, GambitX!NonMutant, RemyLeBeauX!FemaleReader, Mutants, Post Deadpool and Wolverine, Post Void, New Orleans, Alcohol, Pining, Creole/French to English Translation

(c) - Creole

(f)- French

*I just want to disclose I am not a comic expert. Gambit/Remy LeBeau is very new to me and I’m doing my best to stay genuine to what I’ve researched online or from what I’ve seen in the D&W movie. I’m aware there was a HUGE controversy over his heavy accent/dialect and over his eye color in the movie, so I tried to incorporate both versions of each in my stories to satisfy everyone’s preferred Gambit/Remy style. (Personally, I loved Channing Tatum’s accent in the movie ☺️) I’m also cognizant that Gambit and Rogue are an item in the comics, but for sanity sake, Rogue will be a pastime only mentioned in passing if absolutely necessary so I don’t have to study in depth another character I’m unfamiliar with. (I need some brain space for real life stuff, too 😅) Anyway, I’m doing my maximum effort over here writing for Gambit/Remy, so when I do post my developing Gambit story, please, if you have comments or criticisms that don’t benefit anyone else’s appreciation of these fanfics, keep them to yourself and let the rest of us enjoy it. Thanks so much*

♠️♥️♣️♦️

It was a particularly busy night at Black Penny. As live bounce music and jazz blared from the stage, patrons dance and socialize carelessly with each other while you hotfoot from one end of the bar to the other serving up shots and beers.

You approach a man waiting patiently, his face downward hovering over a stack of playing cards.

“What can I getchya?” You ask him.

He began twirling an ace of spades between his fingers.

“(c) Kisa mwen ka jwenn pou ou?” You repeat.

The man lifted his gaze to meet yours with a mischievous grin stretching across his face. An eerie magenta glow softly radiated from his irises causing your jaw to drop. Your stunned reaction spurred him, causing his smile to widen and his eyes to glow brighter as the whites of his eyes began to blacken.

“….woah.” You say under your breath.

The man chuckled, “(c) Ou dwe padone Gambit, cheri (You must pardon Gambit). When his eyes see somethin’ so (f)dulcet (beautiful), it be hard to hide it.”

You shook your head to refocus, “No need to apologize. This is a safe space for everyone. Just caught me off guard is all.”

You flash him a smile and a wink as he returned one to you, the whites of his eyes returning to ‘human’ version of normal and his irises became a shade of icy green.

“Nobody be lookin’ at me like dat wit’out runnin’ off. You weren’t scared?”

“Of course not. Takes a lot more than a pair of flashy eyes on a handsome face to scare me away.” You state.

He laughed as he adjusted in his seat.

“Dats good, dats good.” He said as he leaned forward on the surface of the bar.

“What are you drinking, Gambit?” You ask again.

“Sazerac. (c) Mèsi, cheri. (Thank you, darling).”

You bring the gentleman a rocks glass fixed neat with the amber-red reserve bourbon. He gingerly raised the glass to his nose, inhaling the oak wood barrel scent with hints of cherry, caramel, apples, and tobacco.

He hummed with satisfaction, “(c) Manyifik (Magnificent).”

You nod, then turn to walk away.

“Remy.” You hear him call to you.

“Pardon?” You say as you turn back to him.

“The name’s Remy LaBeau.” He reiterated cooly after taking a sip from his glass.

He averted his eyes to you, awaiting your name. You grin back.

“Y/F/N.”

“(c) Kontan rankontre ou, Y/F/N (Pleased to meet you).”

You feel your face go red as you laugh nervously.

“Same.” You managed to say before scurrying to the other end of the bar to wait on other customers.

♠️♥️♣️♦️

Remy sat quietly in his spot at the bar the entire evening, only ever looking up from his deck of Mavericks to catch a glance of you as you pass him. The crowd started to thin out as last call was announced.

“One for the road, Remy?”

He beamed at you, “Oui, cheri. If you join me for one.”

You smile coyly, “I gotta close up, chief. How about this; I’ll bring you another Sazerac on the house, and I’ll take a rain check?”

You see the magenta glimmer in his eyes again.

“I like the soun’ of dat, cheri.”

You smile and nod then turn to the counter behind you to prepare his drink. You set it in front of him as he placed a $100 in front of you.

“You only had two. That’s too much.”

“(c) Pran li (Take it). For your generosity an’ da company.” Remy insisted.

You beam at him, “(c) Ou twò janti (You’re too kind).”

He stood up from his stool, and fixed his collar on his leather trench.

“Until next time, mon cher.” He said smiling while standing tall opposite you.

“Orevwa, Remy. I’ll see you around.” You reply sweetly as you feel your cheeks heat up again.

“(c) Mwen pwomèt ou pral (I promise you will).” He purred in his heavy honeyed Cajun accent.

He bowed, then turned on his heel to exit the bar. You released a deep exhale as if you hadn’t taken a breath since having met him that night.

♠️♥️♣️♦️

*I know this was a short one and I plan on a chapter 2. I’m just dipping my toe in the water here to see what feedback I get* 🥰

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION: VOODOO WEIGHT GAIN. Anything that happens to the voodoo doll, happens to the person it's moulded after. You stuff the doll with more fluff, and the person's belly grows. You dunk the doll in beer or a glass of wine, it soaks into the fabric and the person gets wasted. You rub at the doll's privates, and you hear startled moaning from the other room. I don't know, I just saw the idea on DeviantArt and I think that it has a lot of potential..

*Note: I, the author of this silly, kinky, little Tumblr fic, am white. And because of the past association between white people saying “voodoo” and cruelty towards people of color, I will not be using the term “voodoo doll.” I know nothing good or bad was necessarily meant by your ask, grey-faced anon user 😊, but I just don’t want to use that! So I’m going to say magic doll 🤷🏻‍♂️*

I FUCKING LOVE THIS IDEA.

JESUS CHRIST.

I AM SO FUCKING HERE FOR THIS.

Immediately, immediately, when you sent this to me I had a whole fucking AU in my head. This idea gives rich-man-Rogers and house-husband-boy-toy-Bucky…

Warning for unbeta'd stucky belly kink. Mostly rapid and magical weight gain, some vague dubious concent vibes but not really, etc.

I am picturing the full fantasy.

Steve is rich as fuck and is the CEO of his successful company. Whatever that is, it’s not important. What is important is that Steve is older than Bucky and is taller and bigger than him, too. Bucky is younger and twinkier. He’s sweet and needy *cough* slutty *cough*. Steve has needs too, though. Needs that are a special kind and can’t be met by just anyone, so rather than sorting through the whole fucking mess that is dating and sparking a new romance… he turns to hire someone who he can take his needs out on. A sex worker.

Steve hires a sex worker.

Specifically, Steve hires Bucky, striking up an exclusive contract with him. He wants Bucky to live with him, he wants Bucky to be ready for use at any time he needs him, and he wants Bucky to - within his limits - give into all of Steve’s dirtiest fantasies.

One of these fantasies is having a boy at home who is at his every beck and call, and who is totally, completely spoiled. Not bratty, but spoiled.

And Steve wants the evidence of Bucky’s spoiling to be on full display. He wants his houseboy - his toy - to be soft. Pale skin completely bare. Waxed, not shaved. Skin lotioned extensively. Soft. Clothed in the finest silk and lace and the like. Manners perfect. Not all skin and bones, not all bulky muscle, but fat and padded as if he’s never had to work a day in his life and is instead doughy and excessive. Always sitting on his comfortable, cushy backside.

Yeah… 🫦

Steve has specific tastes.

But Steve also has more than enough money to acquire said specific tastes. He has so much money, in fact, that he can afford to commission a small, hand-sewn, delicate doll from one of Natasha’s highest-recommended contacts. Said contact is secretive, illusive, and extensively expensive, but she agrees to Steve’s wants immediately, claiming she has just the thing and he doesn’t need to keep explaining, so… Steve has no complaints.

Steve has no complaints whatsoever, reclining in his desk chair with his belt and slacks undone, dick out, at his heavy wooden desk in his private office at work, the top floor, his solid wood door locked, with his personal secretary blocking all of his calls. On his otherwise spotless desk, there are two things: one is his laptop, and the other is a pile of fiber fill stuffing. In one hand he’s holding that little magic doll. Meanwhile, Steve’s other hand is poised to pack some of that stuffing into the doll’s body. But Steve isn’t looking at the doll, nor at the pile of awaiting stuffing, he’s looking at his laptop. The thing that is so interesting on his laptop is Bucky.

In perfect, crystal-clear quality the security camera feed from his penthouse is sprawled across the big screen. The penthouse he’s sharing with his contracted boy toy.

Bucky.

He’s been watching Bucky wander around, cleaning (Steve would prefer if he didn’t, he really does want Bucky helpless and spoiled, but he knows the younger man would go stir crazy if he didn’t have something to do, so he allows it), just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

And…

Now is good, right?

Yeah.

Now is good.

So, Steve pushes a big, thick wad of stuffing into the doll and watches, dick jerking, as Bucky’s silence is interrupted by a cacophony of noise - all at once, his boy toy’s sweatpants rip to shreds and his toy lets out a sound that’s half-whimper, half-moan. He’s totally startled by the sudden woomph of his ass tripling, maybe even quadrupling, in size. Bucky is so blatantly confused that he ends up stumbling forward, nearly falling over but catching himself barely. With the flurry of movement, his ass jiggles.

Oh, Lord, Steve groans.

Big and fat.

Perfectly fat.

Bucky’s ass is unreal. It was before, firm and round, but now it is impossibly unreal. There’s no texture of dimpling cellulite and no striped stretch marks over the delicious surface of Bucky’s suddenly exposed ass. It’s perfect. Untouched. Unmarred. Only fat.

Bucky looks, well, Steve has started gnawing on his lower lip without realizing it, drawing blood already, so, it’s easy to say that he looks edible. Such a big ass on the most perfect, good-est boy. And Bucky is such a good boy that when he recovers, whimpering, after a brief, pornographic moment of groping himself, squeezing handfuls of fat where it’s mounding up behind him and twisting sharply around to try and investigate what has happened to his body, he just… goes on.

He keeps cleaning.

Steve is floored.

Oh, this is going to be so, so much more fun than he thought.

Bucky keeps cleaning as if nothing happened.

The only difference is now, Bucky is trying to stifle his precious little whines and he keeps sucking in sharp breaths like he’s embarrassed to let it show that he likes his shiny, new thick ass despite, to his knowledge, being completely alone. Unobserved.

Steve makes a whine of his own, a bitten-off, growling whine, but a whine nevertheless, when Bucky pauses cleaning to arch his back like he’s testing out how it might feel to get fucked with such a fat ass - like having such a big, heavy ass makes him feel sexy and he can’t help it. Immediately, Steve wants to make it better. He wants to make it worse. 😈 He wants to stuff as much stuffing as he can fit into the little doll’s chest to pack Bucky’s tits full of soft, malleable fat. If his boy likes how it feels to have fat, thick curves in the “right” places, then he’s going to give it to him. And then he’s going to ruin it by adding fat to the “wrong” places, too. He’s going to fatten him up. He’s going to make him huge with no effort at all.

Maybe he shouldn’t just give Bucky a taste of what it’s like to be curvy and sexy in a traditionally feminine way, all ass and tits, maybe he should pack him full of stuffing right this second, and see what he does, see how he preens and arches his back and touches himself, see how he spends his day alone, unknowing that Steve is peeping in on him, watching him get off to excess. Despite the dangerous pull... Steve doesn’t. Steve has self-control. Sometimes.

So. He lets it drag on…

He lets Bucky enjoy his fat ass for close to an hour. He simply watches, drooling and passively jerking off, as Bucky waddles around the penthouse, his ass wobbling and jiggling as he walks. His footsteps are much heavier than normal under the weight of his monstrous ass.

Bucky has removed his ruined sweatpants, but he hasn’t taken off his shirt. It should look silly. It doesn’t. It’s sexy as hell. Steve’s going to make him tear his way out of that shirt, too. He’s going to watch it be ripped to shreds. 😮‍💨

With another wave of lust, Steve decides he’s done waiting and he launches into action. He stuffs the doll again, focusing on a new, irresistible part of Bucky’s body that he wants to make even more irresistible by swelling him.

And instantly, with the doll stuffed, Bucky balloons.

His thighs, this time, widen with another sudden whoomph of magic.

His now colossal thighs match his ass delightfully. Thick and perfect. Doughy blubber that has to weigh too much for Steve to lift, despite his extensive gym routine.

Bucky moans outright this time. He’s less confused, too. He just accepts it. This is him now. The perfect, moldable toy. Adaptive and dumb.

Perfect.

He takes to the new fat packed onto his frame like a fish takes to water. Although… he’s nowhere near as physically graceful as that metaphor, Steve is talking purely about how Bucky reacts emotionally to seeing himself swell like a mound of dough left in the oven to proof overnight. Expanding. Bucky can hardly seem to walk now. His lower half is so puffy, so swollen that he’s waddling. Swaggering. Wobbling. All that fat moves captivatingly, jiggling in slow, swollen waves like the ocean after an intense storm. And because Bucky can’t walk anymore, Bucky plops down onto the nearby sofa. So heavy and overgrown that Steve’s expensive, expensive couch lets out a loud creak. Bucky swears, sounding panicked, but not too panicked to get up again and not too panicked to not start touching himself again.

His hands first make contact with his fat ass, squeezing inches of padding between his thumb and fingers at the sides of his body where his ass spills out away his hip flexors.

Steve feels a little faint. He feels more faint when Bucky scoots his thighs apart, setting them wider with a heavy, bothered sigh - they’re not only so fat that he can’t walk, they’re so fat that it’s hard to move.

Christ.

Bucky and this little doll are the best things that Steve has ever paid for. He swears. Then, Bucky moans, drawing his attention back to him and away from his money, the needy, little big minx.

Steve wants to give Bucky everything.

Steve takes the biggest ball of stuffing this far and packs it into the doll’s belly until its seams creak.

The force of the sudden fat being added to Bucky’s poor frame is so intense, whoomph, that Bucky is thrown back against the sofa. His head is thrown back too, eyes rolling to the back of his head, neck arched attractively, mouth hanging open, sweat appearing on his skin all at once. His skin. Oh, God, Steve growls to himself, he’s so fucking delighted that he’s recording all of this footage because he’s going to spend the rest of his life sneaking away into whatever nearby bathroom or closest or bedroom or wherever he can to replay the way Bucky’s shirt bursts off him, getting off to it.

The sound of the seams ripping, popping, and fabric shredding mixing orgasmically with Bucky’s cry of pleasure. Filled more than he could’ve ever dreamed of. Made so impossibly round that he’s stuck to the creaking, overburdened couch.

His gut fills all of the space in front of him.

The surface is taut like a drum and as round as a globe. Totally unmarred. No stretch marks, no bruises, not even the flush of skin struggling to contain so much blubber. He looks incredible. Mouth-watering. Pale. Fat. He’s rising like dough. And there’s only one thing left to do…

Steve stuffs his tits too, watching the way Bucky squirms, the way he writhes on the expensive, luxury couch as if he’s orgasming on the spot. So filled that he can’t take it anymore. He can’t hold anything in. He can’t keep himself from screaming. He can’t stop himself from coming. A blimp. A fat, excessive blimp sitting on top of a monstrous, thick ass and immense thighs with a belly that stretches out past his fat knees, so big and round that it shoves equally over-fattened tits up to his face, leaving him choking on them. He is overripe. Moaning with abandon, lost in the throws of pleasure from being so thoroughly gorged.

Swollen.

Filled.

(Here's part two)

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

~*~

1. I'm looking for a story that was set in more modern times and Wangxian are both female, LZ moved to America and was chronically injured, sometimes stuck in a wheelchair, believes WWX dead until she runs into her in America, LSZ is being brought up at the Lan compound by LXC @readingdj

FOUND? 🔒 everything's going to be discovered by everythingispoetry (M, 98k, wangxian, F/F, Modern Cultivation, Reunions, Soft Wangxian, Female LWJ, Female WWX, Family Feels, Soft LQR, they are all softies, Starts with angst ends with fluff, it's a progression, bamf everyone really, Hurt/Comfort, Disability)

~*~

2. I remember it was on ao3 and Wei ying was presumed dead from the waterborne abyss but then washes ashore some days later alive I think he was found by LQR or LXC @i-cant-think-of-one-meh

~*~

3. Hi I have two very vague fics that I'm trying to find A) a fic where yuan named the burial mounds bunny mountain or valley? Something to do with bunnies. I remember it was a yiling Wei sect fic but that's it. B) a fic where Wei Wuxian pretends to date lan Wangji. I remember lan Wangji had like a see through wall in his bedroom or at least a big house/apartment? Or something and Wei Wuxian stayed with him for a bit. It could have been a sugar baby AU but I know it was fake/pretend au and that they slept together. I think they had a misunderstanding or something and broke up then confessed to each other? Sorry all I really remember is them going to Lan Wangji's apartment at one point 😅

3A)

FOUND! 🧡 Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WangXian, WWX & WQ & WN, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Angst, Not JC Friendly, BAMF WWX)

~*~

4. So I came back to the fandom after about a year and a half and I can’t for the life of me find a story. I don’t remember much, but it was like a murder mystery or something. Or a threat to Jin Ling’s life. But at the end, a girl was killing people with voodoo dolls and was trying to kill Wei Ying with one.

I’m hoping this is in the same story, but they were in a lighthouse and a resentful ghost was murdered and sealed in the structure.

I’m sorry I’m not giving you much, but hopefully someone knows what I’m talking about. Thank you!

FOUND? And I Will Call You Home by Spodumene (E, 42k, WangXian, Case Fic, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Ghosts, Suicide, Explicit Sexual Content, Attempted Sexual Assault, LWJ whump, Original Character Death(s))

~*~

5. Hii hope you all are well. Um this fic was modern wwx somehow getting transported into the wuxia version and kind of gives therapy to everyone I believe they were also viewing the past it's not rly a jiang family fix it but I think the ppl that died came back. I think wwx mentions that ljy in the modern world is older than lwj @thatperson0-0

Hi I'm number 5. Sadly the fic was not found :(. If it helps, modern wwx is engaged/married/dating modern lwj and when the two wwxs switch, past wwx and modern lwj have yk in the modern world and when he comes back he mentions wanting to try the stuff he learnt with past lwj.

NOT FOUND! Wrong Turn, Right Place by diamondbruise (E, 71k, WangXian, Time Travel, kind of, it’s more reality travel but there’s modern wwx and cultivator lwj, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Cultural Differences)

~*~

6. hello I would like to request help in finding a modern Wangxian fanfic on Ao3 in which they are I think starting university & WY has 2 cores one golden core and a dark core from resentful energy with I think a reincarnation theme too for WY seeing LZ triggers both his cores & memories then faints which leads to LZ building a barrier around them & helps WY merge both cores together to save him also both their families are alive with baoshan sanren being close with Wangxian like a grandmother also LZ burns baoshan sanren hand when activating the shield also LJY & LSZ are immortals with LSZ gone into a meditative state and that JWY is an idol as he is unable to cultivate as he returned the core back to WY this particular piece of info I think was mentioned in the ending notes, this is all that I remember of it hope it helps. thxs @1p1rose1

FOUND?🔒 Because you loved me by ThisIsWhereTheMagicHappens (T, 133k, WIP, WangXian, NieLan, SongXiao, Canon Compliant, Modern AU, College/University, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, supportive family, POV Alternating, a lot of cultivation, they reincarnated, but not everyone remembers, the lan and wei parents are alive and caring, Happy Ending, No war, Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg, magical mpreg) but it doesn't match exactly

~*~

7. I need fic finder help 😭 I cannot for the life of me find this one fic or remember the name, but I remember it very clearly.

So the premise was that the Lan soloed the SSC after the Wen attacked Cloud Recesses, and LWJ was sect leader (and chief cultivator??) after. He demanded a person be given to him (as compensation?? To show the sects alliance to him?? I forgot the exact reason) and WWX saw it coming a mile away that it would be him chosen to be handed over. Everyone was terrified of LWJ and was certain WWX would be miserable, but LWJ knew it would be WWX they sent and because Wen Qing vouched for him LWJ treated WWX like he deserved instead of how the sects thought he'd be, and got the shock of their life when they ended up married.

The last chapter I read (and the last update I saw, it was a (nearly finished?) wip last I read) Wen Qing sent a notice that LXC, who'd been in a coma for the entire fic up to that point, was awake.

If anyone can find this fic, I'd be eternally greatful 😭

FOUND! golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)

~*~

8. There is a fic I'm looking for. After wwx comes back in Mo village he decides to just stay there and run the town for several years as mo xuanyu and I can't seem to find it on AO3 @mortavita

FOUND? focal, filler, and line by bosbie (T, 26k, wangxian, canon divergence, flower shop au, fluff, hurt/comfort, pining, falling in love, WWX is not recognized in Dafan mountain, slice of life, WIP) WWX stays in Mo Village and is noticed by LWJ 3 years later the out-of-season flowers "Mo Xuanyu" sells have touches of resentful energy on them

FOUND? Gave my Heart and Soul by mel_darling (T, 47k, WIP, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, References to Depression, Survivors Guilt, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, wwx knows Lwj was the one who kissed him, Canon Divergence, Panic Attacks, AnxietyPining, Healing, Gardening for the soul, Accidental Child Acquisition, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Nightmares) It doesnt take place over years but the premise is similar.

~*~

9. Does anyone have that threadfic where omegaverse a!WWX donated sperm for money and o!LWJ bought it? LWJ had two(?) kids with the third on the way when the two of them met and toward the end one of the kids got injured and had to go to the hospital which is how they found out that WWX was the donor

~*~

10. I’m looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian is helping Lan Wangji move in, only to get pinned to a sex bench. Turns out Wei Wuxian is one of a very small subset of males who can get pregnant, Lan Wangji found his e-reader, and calmly decided to divest them both of their virginity. It is not nearly as dark as it sounds.

FOUND? Touch me, tease me, fill me up by Lanwangjisnights (E, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, BDSM Scene, Domestic BDSM, Restraints, Bondage, Rope Bondage, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Boypussy, Vaginal Sex, LWJ Has a Big Dick, Daddy Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Vibrators, Sex Toys, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, No Refractory Period, Aftercare, Marriage, Proposal, WWX POV, First Time)

~*~

11. Hi! I’m looking for this fic, I don’t know if it was time travel, but one of the main things was that Wei ying, lan zhan, jiang Chang, and Jin Zixuan became martial brothers. Thank you!

FOUND? Quartet series by WithBroomBefore (T, 69k wangxian, JZX & JC & WWX & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, WWX's canonical comfort with the prospect of his own death, Hurt/Comfort, JZX makes friends, Eventual Happy Ending, some unhappiness along the way, Canon-Typical Violence, JC keeps his golden core, JYL Lives, WQ Lives, Minor Character Death, Kissing, WWX Lives, no golden core transfer, JZX Lives, Fix-It, WN Lives, Weeping, temporary major character death, Murder Road Trip, Implied Sexual Content, Sunshot Campaign, Nonbinary NHS, Telepathy, platonic group soulbonding, Family, Found Family, POV WWX, Podfic Available, Siblings Sworn Brothers, aroace JZX, Happy Ending, all the Wen remnants live, POV JZX, JGY is less murdery, Asexual Character, Aromantic Character, JZX's social awkwardness, Poison)

FOUND? The Same Moon Shines series by sami (E, 799k) since the asker specifically mentions time travel, I wonder if it's Sami's time travel series? at least the main continuity, where WWX is the time traveler. the sworn brotherhood isn't central like in Quartet but it's still a key plot point.

~*~

12. Hi, I’m looking for an abo fic (o!wwx and a!lwj) where wwx is sent to the cloud recesses in an arranged marriage bc madam yu thought he would be miserable there. Lwj is super cold to him at first and I think wwx is left kneeling in the cold during his preheat? Lwj also doesn’t want kids with him, which makes wwx upset. Xichen and wwx end up becoming good friends, wwx solves the water abyss with talismans, and lwj warns wwx about associating with xichen since the elders would cast them in a bad light, and wwx takes this as threatening him. @vellialavellious

FOUND! To Bring You Back Within My Reach by ablaiseofglory (M, 20k, WIP, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, No dubious consent, Adopted Children, Kid Fic, A/B/O Dynamics, omega wwx, Alpha LWJ, Orphanage, canon levels of physical abuse, aka cloud recesses punishments, Verbal/Mental Abuse, Misunderstandings, so many of them, a comical/horrifying amount, Depressive Thoughts)

~*~

13. Hii this I'd for fic finder

I'm looking for a fic where wwx and wq pretend to be married, a yuan as their child when wwx confronted the jins about qionqi path, in the end I remember he also married lz ( after a misunderstanding where he accused him of infidelity). Thank u ☆

Hii I'm number 13 on the recent fic finder, it's unfortunately not what was recommended :')

I remember more of the story , wwx and wq were married out of convenience to save her family, they had children together but never slept together, when wwx told lwj he loved him , lwj accused him of being bored of his wife or something (they got married in the end, there was implied mpreg I think & lwj was referred to as second madam wei)

Not FOUND that is a door by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 7k, WWX/WQ, Marriage of Convenience, POV WQ, Post-War, Canon Divergence) if the asker is certain about marrying LWJ then it's not ShanaStoryteller's this is a door, but otherwise it might be

Not FOUND🔒the tragic and entirely true story of the romance between the yiling patriarch and his wife, most renowned doctor of her generation by ravenditefairylights (T, 18k, WangXian, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Canon, but also during canon, Character Study, Canon Temporary Character Death, excessive use of personal headcanons, Baby LSZ, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Oblivious WWX, Rumors, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Heteronormativity, Fake Marriage, Chronic Pain, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining)

FOUND? 💖 The Epic Lie of the Yiling Laozu and His Wife by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 9k, wangxian, WWX/WQ, fake/pretend relationship, fake marriage, misunderstandings, lies, jealousy, BAMF WWX, yiling wei au)

~*~

14. Hello I am trying to find a fic that is a modern reincarnation au, wei wuxian and nie huaisang are reincarnated roommates, but lan wangji is immortal and from the canon time and he fights a big ghost head in their apartment which is wuxian and huaisang’s first experience with cultivation in this time

It had maybe two chapters then didn’t update for like a year and I gave up and closed the tab for it but that was a big mistake because even unfinished I still think about it for some reason

~*~

15. Hellooo im really trying to find a fic where weiying travelled back in time to gusu classes and tried to end his life with his sword and everyone get scared there's a similiar fic called (un)hidden but it's not the one im trying to find can u please help me find it

FOUND? 🔒 Without end by barisan (M, 69k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Suicide Attempt, Hurt/Comfort, Depressed WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, WWX Needs Therapy, Protective LWJ, Good Uncle LQR, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Canonical Character Death, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Time Travel Fix-It, YZY Bashing, JFM Bashing, WWX Protection Squad, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, YLLZ WWX, Forehead Kisses, hand holding, Scheming NHS, Wēn Remnants Live, Broadway References, Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect Bashing, Literal Sleeping Together, Feelings Realization, Like Speedrun, First Kiss, sentient resentful energy, Medical Inaccuracies, Sentient Burial Mounds, Protective Siblings, Soft WangXian, BAMF WWX)

FOUND? Better Off Without Me by lindgrsl77 (M, 2k, WIP, WangXian, Suicide Attempt, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, WWX is not okay, Time Travel, Happy Ending)

FOUND? For the Best by Weiyun (T, 5k, WangXian, Suicide Attempt, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Angst, Canon Divergence, Time Travel)

~*~

16. Hi ☺️ I'm here again for finding recs that I have forgotten the title but not the storyline part ... Well for starter it's like watching their show but they time travel(?) Also there was a scene that while they were watching the library punishment when they get to the book that's when LZ thoughts of the library incidence were broadcast to everyone and any other fantasies he has but they realized it was only his not really happened. And they didn't know this until they watch it... I dunno how to find it 😔 @myst1210

FOUND? Song of Joy and Regrets by HelloKitten (Not Rated, 134k, wangxian, hualian, WIP, TGCF, Angst, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, characters watching their series, Time Travel Fix-it) chapter 31

~*~

17. hello this is for ficfinder.

A) it was a modern au in which wwx is lan yuan's art teacher and i think lwj has adopted him, the fic starts w lwj being late to pick him from school. wen ning is the receptionist at the school. at some point wwx and lwj and a yuan also meet at a market and end up eating together.

B) there is a series in which basically everyone ia simping over wwx and he also finds a way to get his own body back and everyone is like oh you really wee HOT and i think the series named smth similar to simping over wwx but i cant seem to find it.

thank you

17A)

FOUND! 🧡 paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 (E, 53k, WangXian, Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Everyone Is Alive, Modern AU, Dadji, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending, Brief Alcohol Mention, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Accidentally co-parenting with your son's art teacher, Fatherhood)

17B)

FOUND? Simping over WWX is my fave hobby Series by brrrrrRawr (T, 10k, WangXian, WWX's original body, Fluff, Pet Name,s Blushing, No Smut, Genius WWX, yunmeng bros reconciliation, endgame lotus pier, big bro wwx rights, also dad wwx rights, BAMF WWX, Bad Writing, Body Dysphoria So OOC, world building, cliff diving, corpse wrestling, OOC, Canon Divergence, god WWX, god WN, god WQ, child JL, teenager MXY, xuanli get resurrected, rip nmj tho, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF WWX, BAMF WN, BAMF WQ)

~*~

18. hi! I just remembered a fic I read a while ago but I can't find it now and I really wanted to read it again. So what I remember about it is that it's set in cql verse and wei wuxian was taken to the nightless city. He was planning on learning about wrh's demonic cultivation and so he kind of tries to make wen rouhan favor him while secretly learning demonic cultivation. Wrh fell for it and he kinda made wwx his consort and lwj thought wwx really betrayed them. please help me find it T~T

I can remember but I can't find... But I remember that I think WWX still had a golden core. He made Chenqing to let WRH think he was only playing music to help him concentrate on creating the Yin Tiger Seal but actually WWX was using it to use demonic cultivation to create weaknesses in the Seal that he could exploit later (and also to try to protect his golden core grin the resentment). Chenqing becomes semi-sentient and wants to help and protect him. In the end he shatters the Seal while shielding everyone else from the backlash and almost dies in the process, because he drops Chenqing and so she can't protect him.

FOUND? 🔒 Pendulum by ShippersList (M, 69k, wangxian, graphic depicitions of violence, rape/non-con, underage, A/B/O, Canon Divergence, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Misunderstandings, Canon-Typical Violence, Spies & Secret Agents, Fake Character Death, Slow Burn, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF WWX, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canonical Character Death, Mutual Pining, Good JGY, Introspection, Self-Sacrificing WWX, Love Confessions, Protective LWJ, past child sexual abuse)

~*~

19. Hi! 🥳 Happy new year! And also thank you so much for your hardwork for the past year. I hope you will also help me with this as well.

I’m looking for the fic wherein Wwx went to the bunnies. Wwx was shocked because they went to him and some bunnies actually nuzzles his tummy. Wwx find it odd since usually bunnies don’t like him. Eventually, they learned that the reason why bunnies wwx now because he’s pregnant 🫄.

Hi! I’m the fic finder #19. Thank you for helping but unfortunately I think this is not the one. Though they are similar, it still different because in the fic I read, there is a scene where wwx scolded the bunnies like saying ‘You only like me now because I’m pregnant’ like that.

NOT FOUND! How strange... the bunnies like me! by Selene210 (M, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Using bunnies as a way of discovering pregnancy, Mpreg, Mild Smut)

~*~

20. Can you please help me find a fic? Lan Zhan decides to leave the Lan clan and to do so he has to cut his hair. Wei Ying finds him by a river and helps him with the hair cut. I don’t think they had met prior to this, it is possible Wei Wuxian had already also left his own clan? Anyhoo, they go on to live together and it is very domestic and sweet.

FOUND? my life’s journey is far from over by thelastdboy (E, 148k, wangxian, modern au, canon divergence, PTSD, post-sunshot, everyone lives au, depression, suicidal thoughts, unhealthy coping mechanisms, slow burn, case fic, recorvery, healing is a slow process, kink negotiation)

~*~

[literallygeeway]

intro post!!

name: just call me caleb

age: dont wanna disclose but i am a minor so please dont be weird!!

pronouns: he/they idk

gender: kind of just unlabeled rn it hurts my head too much to think about

sexuality: also unlabeled. i kind of just like anyone in any way it doesnt really matter idk (but i have a beautiful beautiful gf :3)

favourite artist: my chemical romance!!!

other favourite artists: bikini kill, mommy long legs, mitski, bratmobile, cat valley, hell baby, dazey and the scouts, wet leg, skinny girl diet, the muslims, voodoo church, crass, chumbawamba, panic! at the disco (specifically afycso)

other artists i just generally like (yes i love music): sonic youth, le tigre, the julie ruin, pierce the veil, x-ray spex, pleasure venom, olivia jean, necromancy, catholic spit, picture me broken

hobbies: music (i can play bass, guitar, drums and piano), writing, photography, filmmaking, cinematography, drawing, making bracelets (though i need to do it more often)

some other stuff i like also includes: heathers the musical (off broadway) (its the only musical i really like), studio ghibli, the sims 4, omori, undertale, deltarune, stardew valley, ddlc, mouthwashing, doctor who, the umbrella academy, arcane, the owl house, bojack horseman, adventure time and scott pilgrim (the tv show, movie and game - i havent read the graphic novel but want to)

more stuff under the cut - dni, fun facts and some more stuff :3

fun facts!!!

my favourite colour is dark red

my favourite food is sushi

im learning japanese and french

my favourite movies are parasite, everything everywhere all at once and isle of dogs!! my favourite tv shows are i am not okay with this and the end of the f***ing world

i love wes anderson movies!!

i had two fish called flamey and sir bubbles the fishington when i was younger but they both died so i flushed them down the toilet

i collect bottles and cans (mainly ramune bottles and like three cool cans but still), funko pops (i have two gerard way funko pops - the black parade with the facepaint and revenge red tie) and vinyls (mcr, mitski, bikini kill, the muslims and wet leg)

dni!!!

basic dni like homophobic, transphobic, ableist, racist, pro-isreal, islamophobic, etc

mcr haters!! /hj

shipping irl people unless its a joke

transmeds and terfs

people who think trans men cant present femininely and trans women cant present masculinely (im a trans-ish guy who wears skirts sometimes so suck my toe)

people who unironically think gerard way is a trans woman... guys he's said they use he/they pronouns and if he was a trans woman he would probably say something!!

please interact!!

mcr fans

riot grrrl fans (not problematic)

alternative people!!! (emo, punk, goth, scene, decora, etc)

just cool people in general :3

other stuff:

no need to use tonetags with me, dont worry about it

i use !!! and :3 and stuff like that a lot, and i also swear more than the average human should

im alternative but dont have a specific label as i dress in a mix of ways and listen to many different genres of music :3

on here i'm mainly gonna post about mcr, so if you dont like them you probably wont like most of the stuff i post :<

i will probably edit this as i think of more stuff to add and as my interests change but yeah <3

pinterest: literallygeeway

instagram: killj0ysneverd1e (i only use it to look at mikey way and frank iero's stories)

fav user: @darkermylovex (go follow her rn she is awesome!!)

I DID NOT MAKE THE PNG THAT APPEARED EARLIER!!

current song obsessions:

okay thats all, have a great day, bye bye :3!!!!

[xhollowfaerie]

silverv drabbles #4

a/n: thank you so much for the love on my cyberpunk stuff!! i get so excited whenever someone interacts with it. oh, in case it wasn't noticeable, i've started titling each scene based on songs, like how they name quests after songs in-game (I've also just always loved to name chapters based on the songs I listen to when I write them)

ps Arthur is Arthur Jenkins, your corpo boss who my V was in a toxic relationship with for a while because I love pain and coping with my personal baggage through writing :p

warnings: violence, feels, probably really bad French (please feel free to correct it lol all the Spanish/French/Japanese in my writing is scraped together from distant memories, reddit threads and online translators)

- Enter Sandman. 

Sleep with one eye open,

Gripping your pillow tight

V stumbled out of the tub of ice, teeth chattering. Her heartbeat was quickly rising in pace, feeling the heat inside her veins burning through to the tips of her fingers. They itched as her wet lashes blinked frozen drops down her face, feeling the grinding of her teeth.

Johnny’s back was turned to her, musing over their encounter with Alt. But he could feel it gnawing inside her.

Their anger.

The merc was reeling with the boils of wrath all over her, his, their consciousness. She saw Jackie, Evelynn, Alt; all the people Johnny had fucked over, all the people she had fucked over. So many wraiths circled her mind; the jealousy, the venom with which she spat words towards both Alt and Johnny, laced with his unshakable desire for vengeance. 

Her fingers danced before she reached out towards Maman Brigitte to shake her hand; her mantis blade sprung out, painting the screens behind her in blood. Blocking bullets, leaping and slicing - just like she had when she dealt with Oda. Except this time, she found herself reaching for her pistol more; and as she reloaded, her fingers unconsciously twirled it by the trigger, face twisting with a grin. Muscle memory.

Exit light,

Enter night

She went through the Voodoo Boys hideout, wiping out every last one of them. Her mind was a whirlwind; thoughts buzzing, speeding so quickly out of control, in so many directions, she could feel her brain burning aflame inside her skull. But that’s when a corpo performs best. Under pressure.

Every time they hacked her, she returned it tenfold; watching their heads sizzle as she short-circed them; the cold in her limbs, the numbness, it contrasted so bizarrely with the aggressive heat inside her head. 

Maybe she would never be able to shake the Arasaka out of her system. Maybe she was too indoctrinated. Maybe she was too much of a natural.

She’d fucking murder every last one of them. They’d started this whole fucking shitshow- everything, every death, every thread that had tied her and Johnny together and got so many people killed - cost her everything, not once but fucking TWICE.

A corpo never fails a contract.

Tie up every loose end. No witnesses. Just a message.

They’d fucked her over. Agent V had long ago learned that if she let it slide, they’d do it again. And Valerie Lovett was just about fucking sick of people having the balls to try double-crossing her.

Take my hand,

Off to Never-Neverland

“Careful, V - Placide’s just up a-” “Don’t.”

Johnny turned to face her in surprise, furrowing his brows behind his sunglasses at the sudden order. He scowled in aggravation, but the look on V’s face left him cold.

That… wasn’t V. But he remembered her, from her memories. 

Agent V walked out, a trail of corpses in her wake.

“Placide! Mon frère.  Souviens-tu de ce ranyon? Là pour rendre la pareille, sale fils de pute.” (Placide! My brother. Remember this ranyon? I’m here for payback, you son of a bitch.)

Of course she spoke French. Fucking one percenters.

Defeating him had been too easy; it was almost as if he had given up before her blade even made the first cut.

She growled as she hovered over him, pulling her pistol out.

“This one’s for Jackie and Evelyn, you piece of shit.”

- Dissolve.

Valerie collapsed the moment she exited the church, hands shaking. Her eyes widened, watching the metallic left arm tremble in front of her as if it were her own.

“Fuck.” Their voices overlapped.

She trembled in fear, feeling the familiar burn of tears in her eyes. She didn’t know what to do. Her first thought was-

“Johnny.”

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed into a pulp inside her chest, heaving desperately. Her body fell flat against the floor, writhing in pain. “-I’m, dyin’-!”

He grabbed her wrist. She couldn’t search his eyes beneath the sunglasses. The hold on her heart squeezed tighter as she replayed the image of Alt taking his glasses off in her head. For a moment, she pretended it had been her.

“U-rgh, J-Johnny!”

Fuck. Was this how she was going to go out? Crying out his name? She let her head collapse against the floor as tears streamed down her face, reaching out for a man that wasn’t there. 

She had nobody. And as much as she wanted to imagine Jackie in Johnny’s stead, the rockerboy remained glued to her retinas, stretching his arms out to hold onto her. Strange. So strange, how she felt the cold of his metal limb sizzle on her feverish skin.

“You ain’t dyin’ yet.”

The look on her face must’ve been pathetic; no, Johnny thought, you're not, and somehow, his confidence that she’ll be alright soothed the terror sprawling out of her as her eyes closed, feeling him lift her in his arms. The words left his mouth on instinct before he could even process them.

“I got you.”

-

V felt the bile rise from her throat as she woke up, the faintest hint of a salty breeze filling her lungs before she spilled the contents of her stomach onto the tiles. The seemingly pleasant scent disappeared entirely, replaced by the more familiar stench of the irreparably-polluted Pacific and her own vomit. She rolled over, looking up at the bottle of pills in her hand. He spoke first.

“That smell’s the sea breeze.”

A memory, she realized. She actually smelled the real sea for a second, or, at least, how Johnny remembered it. The mere sight of him leaning over the railing relaxed her entire body back against the wall, letting out a soft sigh.

“...Johnny!”

A conclusion. Relief. Thank God, or, whoever, whatever the fuck. No… If the sand was starting to run out of her hourglass, she wanted to start saying things. Things she was so afraid to say before. Her voice was coarse, but so much gentler than he was used to. A gentleness he had witnessed seldomly, mostly in her memories.

“Thanks.”

Proud of you, chica. Livin’ well, eh? 

A small smile coated her lips, engraving the scent of Johnny’s ocean into her own mind - or encouraging theirs to intertwine. 

“Don’t mention it. Get up. Pacific’s beautiful this time of day.”

She crawled over to the railing and used it for support, straightening up to her feet. His voice sounded distant, almost dreamy. She couldn’t tell if she was still woozy from the fight, his memories, Alt, the Relic killing her, or her deepest, most hidden desires surfacing against her will, enveloping her mind in a drunken stupor.

“Almost flatlined by that attack…”

Johnny didn’t glance at her. He looked out towards the sea, and she saw small glimmers of cobalt, felt the soft warmth of the sun on her skin before the gray tones of current reality set back in.

“Almost.”

She smiled again, leaning forward to rest atop the half-wall, propping her head against her shoulder and marveling at the view before stealing a quick look at him.

For a second, he looked younger, like he had in 2013. She saw Alt kissing him; wondered how it had felt like to be on the receiving end.

“You’re right” she breathed, shamelessly losing herself in staring at the profile of his face, trailing over his lips.

“Hard to take my eyes off it.”

He filled her in on the location, but her curiosity was eating away at her. She couldn’t help asking about the pills, which prompted a surprisingly offended response.

“Got this strange impression your comatose self wanted to get rid of me. Actually put up a good fight.”

She didn’t remember. But, somehow, he did. When he tried to pick her up, she kicked and screamed against him. The attack had been her. Lashing out.

“GET OFF! DON’T TOUCH ME, ASSHOLE!”

“V, fuck’s gotten into you?! Let me help-”

“Like you helped Alt?! Rogue? What am I, the next little fuck and run on your list? Gonna pump and dump me too? I've played this song and dance before, Johnny. I can't- not again!”

She had been furious with him before, but the shared feeling inside them was unlike anything else. Hatred, which wasn’t new either - except for the fact that now, their psyches were becoming so linked together, he hypothesized that this manifestation of her outburst towards him was his own self-hatred lashing out in the way that would hurt him the most. In her image. 

She scratched gashes into his arms with her nails, bit hard into his ‘ganic hand; hissed and shrieked at him. The betrayal in her eyes left him dumbfounded. She couldn’t have possibly been this furious just from witnessing him being an asshole to his ex? It almost sounded like she was projecting her own shitty ex on him, too. Maybe they both were.

Something stuck with him. The way she spoke within the cyberspace… the way she mentioned Alt. He couldn’t tell what the fuck she was so mad about. Was he a piece of shit? Sure, everyone knew that. But she was almost as catty with Alt as she was sympathetic, uniting against him, and it gave him a headache. As much as he considered himself a connoisseur of the feminine, he was in way over his head. He’d never realize just how clueless he could be, something pointed out by every woman he had been with. Crying, usually. Before or after slapping him.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

- Three Nights.

They were slowly approaching his old room; he glitched in and out, his image and voice buzzing with static as he waited at the end of the balcony. 

V collapsed again. When she blinked, he appeared in front of her, kneeling; she almost made out the painting of concern across his features, right as he glitched away again, characteristically crossing his arms in front of himself and waiting for her to move.

Her heart filled to the brim when she pulled the dog tags out, gripping them in disbelief. He wondered what it was that made her heart beat so fast when she looked back at him, draped dramatically over the back of the chair.

Johnny was starting to worry that maybe she was finally losing it. The expression she regarded him with was driving him insane. What was that? Just gratitude? Obviously, she was still out of it, because the way she laughed and her lashes fluttered at him with a genuine smile as she sat on the kitchen floor, that floor he had passed out so numbly on so many times, made his stomach flip in the weirdest way. Maybe he just needed to disillusion himself. Remind himself what this really was. A hostage situation. Which way, neither of them could fuckin’ tell.

“Would you take a bullet for me?”

Why did she laugh like that? So… sweetly? Fuck, she was so fucking frustrating. 

“Dumbass question...”

“Answer it-”

“I would, yeah.”

Not even a heartbeat’s worth of thinking it through, though her voice trembled. With what, he couldn’t tell - or that’s what he chose to lie to himself.

He looked away when he pushed his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. What the fuck was up with him? What was that high?

Reliving his memories with Alt, he thought. Had to be. That familiar feeling he remembered so strongly. Freedom, albeit brief. Passion, thirst… For, for…

Oh, how he had loved holding her hand. Not that he'd ever admit it. He never did. No matter how rough the sex; he was always the one to reach his hand out first, but hers always met his, every time. He missed their weight on his digits. 

His fingers balled into a fist.

Too bad he fucked it up. There was no such thing as fairytale endings; certainly not for a cosmically fucked ex-corpo merc with more trauma than high heels and the cyberpsycho rockerboy terrorist in her head. They were probably the only ones whose baggage could rival each other's, in a horrendously messed up, ironic way.

So whatever the fuck this is you think you're feelin’, Johnny, quit it, his subconscious snarled.

Their brief discussion of Johnny’s past seemed to untangle the tension between them; she made herself comfortable in his old hideout, feeling the intensity of the previous sensations dissipating as she listened to his voice. Despite his protests, she still collapsed onto one of the filthy mattresses, looking up at the spinning fan with a loose grin, closing her eyes and looking out the window to the sky. He almost found it funny; a prim and proper corpo lady, half a century later, laying in his old bed, wearing a ragged Burn Corpo Shit tee (thank fuck she stopped ‘ironically’ wearing that fucking Samurai tshirt in public, that shit was so ridiculous) and worn leather pants. That was an image he wouldn’t be able to get out of his head. For a multitude of reasons.

“Just five minutes, Mister Silverhand…”

He groaned in disgust at the address, shaking his head.

“You’re fuckin’ hopeless! Just don’t rot away in here. Or do. Maybe I don’t give a shit, after all.”

V giggled, drifting off to sleep. Her honeyed voice echoed Alt’s. “You’re a terrible liar, Johnny Silverhand.”

Three nights, at the motel, 

Under streetlights, in the City of Palms

Call me what you want, when you want, if you want

And you can call me names if you call me up

She wondered if he could see her dreams as she pictured the two of them at the beach, hitting each-other with beach balls, splashing salty seawater into each-other’s eyes, squealing when he’d lift her up from beneath the waves, smearing sunscreen on each-other’s faces.

Johnny sat on the edge of the mattress by her side, wide-eyed. He didn’t process the damp trails on his face, too focused on the hesitance in his hand as he dared to reach out and push a pink strand of hair out of her eyes. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

His mechanical fingers cupped her face for way too short a moment before pulling back as if she was molten iron, burying his face in his hands.

He didn’t deserve any of her heart. He didn’t deserve a single part of her, and here he was, taking over her entirety. Killing her, excruciatingly. Too quickly to ever say everything he should have, but not fast enough to spare her the pain. Wiping out her consciousness. Replacing her.

That wasn’t a fucking dream. That was an old-ass memory, corroding as their minds blended together. He couldn’t remember who the girl was anymore. One of many. He must’ve still been in highschool. Or was it college? 

Now, that girl was V.

But it couldn’t be. Not after her.

Johnny exhaled a shaky breath into his hands. He couldn’t even fathom the pain of losing Valerie, too.

I get my feelings involved, she stopped returning my calls

Her flaws turned into walls and barricades

And I’m too far gone in all the wrong ways,

And now every long day is a bad one

I can’t make you call or make you stay or take you off the pedestal

-

“Feelin’ better” V groaned as she woke up from her nap. She was surprised to see Johnny looking down at her from the window. Distracted, or, like he was burying something deep.

“Still feel a sharp somethin’ near your heart” he commented.

Valerie felt its uncomfortable jab as she bit down into her tongue. 

That somethin’ had so many names, she’d lost count. Her family. Arthur. Jackie. Alt.

She moved closer and inched a hand towards his sunglasses. Johnny blinked in surprise, but the realization left him just as soon as it had hit, actively shrouded by V’s consciousness as her arm dropped back at her side and she lowered her gaze to lace her high heeled boots back up. Her voice shrunk, hazed with an old sentiment of bitterness. His eyes caught onto her bullet necklace, despite having seen it every second of every day since waking up in her head. Now, it almost stung.

“Doubt that’s ever goin’ away.”

[xxsweetoothxx]

Hello! How about some Minerva/Alex Kage lore? (I love their design, they look cool as fuck by the way)

like what are some things they like, (hobbies, interests) or what are their powers? How did they become a killer? Or more specifically why a klown themed killer? What are their relationships like with the others, like: Jeff, Wilson, Ragz, Domi, etc? (I don’t know if any of this was already answered or not, I couldn’t find anything in my deep dive, sorry if I’m making you repeat shit you already explained)

Nah, you're good I don't think I've ever really talked much about Minerva/Mono but I can for sure answer this stuff!

Minerva is a fun character because shes one I made when I was like 14-15 and was so badly written but also for the revamp of PM I wanted to kinda keep her story close to how it was back then so I will say a heads up her story is very much 15 year old me branded and I mostly just tried to fill in gaps to make it at the least make a bit more sense but it still is like kinda shit and I love that about her.

As far as interest and Hobbies go she's big into sports. Specifically Baseball is her favorite as well as boxing. She likes clowns that is part of why she is clown themed. She's also got interest in voodoo as she did grow up learning about it since her Ganmother Seraphine practiced it.

She's got a major sweet tooth as well and if she sees anything sweet she WILL eat it. Drinks WAAAAAAY too much root beer.

What are her relationships with the others?

Jeff - Initially she did hate Jeff quite a lot as he kinda did slit her throat when he first met her and then claimed it was because he panicked because SHE scared HIM. They do eventually end up developing a friendship.

Wilson - Wilson and Minerva get along well enough however should NEVER be left alone with each other as they WILL end up doing some shit that is just dumb as fuck and could potentially be destructive or dangerous for them and those around them. Her Jeff and Wilson all end up developing a pretty strong friend group and do just be beating the shit out of each other for fun.

Ragz - Ragz Is a bit complex because outside of clown training Minerva does actually like Ragz but can't stand their ass when it comes to learning clown shit.

Domi - fun fact! Domi and Minerva are siblings Domis mom and Minervas father end up dating at some point. Domi and Minerva already had a sorta sibling relationship before this so they're just happy for them. They also did form the 3 ring together.

Now the OTHER QUESTIONS I'ma just drop lore on the backstory under the cut because it's long and requires a lot of info on the backstory to understand.

So For the vast majority of her life up until meeting Slenderman, Minerva was under the impression she was a human named Alexandria Kage and was Raised by a woman who she THOUGHT was her biological grandmother named Seraphine. The reality of it was that she wasn't a human like at all and she wasn't even biologically related to her. She started going by Minerva after getting to the underworld and meeting her Father who told her that was the name he intended to give her before her "Mother" (Seraphine) left him and took Minnie with her. Her Father and Seraphine were a couple and at one point wanted to start a family however him being a Shade and her being human they couldn't biologically have a child together. However the decided to go the route of making a nightmare which is essentially a human spirit that's consumed by a Shade and reborn as a Nightmare (think of them kinda like sleep paralysis demons. They create nightmares and feed of fear and when someone experiences sleep paralysis these are the "demons" they might see). At first things were fine but once Minerva got older to where it was time that she started actually doing nightmare shit Seraphine didn't like the idea of her living by taking advantage of peoples fears and in some cases trauma. She saw it as just morally fucked up (which for a human 100% would be fucked up to take advantage of someone's fears insecurities and trauma) They basically got into a disagreement as it was essentially that Minerva start learning about her abilities and just what she is at a young age so when she's an adult she doesn't struggle with them. Seraphine who started to dabbled in magic not long after meeting him didn't think she ever needed to because they had a means to disguise her as a human and for her to live a normal human life. It kinda at that point ended up being a disagreement over how Minerva should be aware of what she is rather than keeping that a secret from her for the rest of her life. Seraphine decided to just up and leave with her and basically raised Minerva in the road so not to be found by Minnies father. Because of how nightmares age however by the time Minerva was in her mid 20s Seraphine was old as hell. And by that point they had settled in New Orleans. Fast forward to about a month before the start of PM and Seraphine passes away which Minerva takes hard as she was her only family. But with Seraphine gone there wasn't anyone to continue to do the spell that disguised Minerva as a human so her nightmare qualities started to slowly show as the spell was wearing off. It caused people to fear her simply because Nightmares just unsettle humans by being around them. It caused her to lose the relationships she had formed, her job, and eventually she was essentially completely alone. But once these things started to show it made it easier for her to track down and that's when Slenderman found her. He knew her father so a Proxy was sent to go and bring Minerva back. However they didn't really think through that Jeff is a human so it kinda went south quick resulting in Minervas "Death" as far as local authorities knew. She was pronounced dead. She stayed in the underworld because not only did she just find out her whole life was a lie she did need to learn to use her abilities and how to survive. Not only that she'd never be able to have a normal life among humans so best she could do is try and have one on the underworld. She works for Slenderman specifically so she can have a well paying job and get on her feet as she didn't want to just rely on her dad as she didn't have a relationship with him and it just felt strange to her to do it.

[mgopinoon]

Austin might look like the quiet type but am pretty sure he is a beast in bed, had a bf like that once, very handsome, cool, friendly and quiet but in the bedroom they turn to beast mode and make all your wet dreams come true plus very romantic too, Austin is a real chameleon and I love the fact that he is ready to try different things, with vanessa he did the voodoo halloween stuff to please her because that what she likes and for kaia he did the lesbian book club and Harry porter sex fiction horny reading, sex parties etc and is still doing so much for her, he is really a great boyfriend and man

Austin must be perfect in every way, that's why it must be so hard to let him go.

[nickmakura]

Adult Scooby-Doo TV Show Pitch

So, the idea with my theoretical Adult Swim Scooby-Doo TV Show is to avoid any inclination this is a reimagining. I'm envisioning this is as being a sort of continuation of the concepts and story present in Zombie Island, Witch's Ghost, and Alien Invaders. But, attempting to keep up the original episodic format of "Where Are You?" and breaking some limits of what you can put these characters through.

Part of the reason "Zombie Island" works, is because these are the same characters we grew up with. But they're a little older now too. They all have jobs, they're long past high-school, they have adult expectations. But for the most part, Hanna-Barbera doesn't change anything about Mystery Inc's personality, and instead drops them into a scenario that is dark and gritty. Which makes it far more terrifying.

But another reason is Zombie Island keeps the inherent comedy without sacrificing the horror. Good stuff.

So how do you take the concepts of Zombie Island, and transform it into a monster of the week Scooby-Doo show?

Coast to Coast with Scooby-Doo!

Part I: The Plot

After the harrowing experiences dealing with true brushes with the supernatural and the paranormal, Daphne Blake is now more convinced then ever that she needs live footage of a real honest to good ghost. If they can get one on camera, and report it, this will be the find of a century.

Sticking with the original plan, Scoob & The Gang travel across America investigating real folklore and horrors, in hopes of finding something real.

Part II: The Formula

So, Coast to Coast With Scooby-Doo is kind of a mix of genres. But for the most part, I want it to be a Horror Comedy Mystery show, but it's also a road trip show. One of the things I liked about Zombie Island, is that it took place in New Orleans, and introduced us to real New Orleans cuisine. From beignets, to po' boys, crawdads, gumbo and jambalaya. But it also told us about the voodoo scene in New Orleans.

I'm now dead set on heading out to New Orleans sometime just to try the food, and I think that's something that can really help drag Scooby-Doo down to earth. It makes you really want to visit these places, and maybe investigate a haunting while you're there too.

So, here's the setup.

Spooky Cold Open, probably a Murder

Theme Song

Scoob & The Gang ride the mystery machine into town, probably with some sort of banter. Velma brings up where they're going, and Shag is like "Yo man, it's been a minute since we've been out to New York! You guys think Trinidad Golden Palace is still open? Like they had one crazy Shark Sandwich dude!" Then another member of the gang brings up they're actually looking to go to the statue of Liberty, where, by the way, there is ACTUAL rumors of buried treasure and ghosts. This changes depending on local

The gang stumble upon mystery, ask questions, find out gruesome details, meet suspects. Daphne & Fred interview some people.

They film the hauntings as they're happening, and search for clues.

Then, as the episode progresses we figure out whether or not this thing is real or fake. If it's real, the gang have to find a way to take down the monster using ingenuity and what they've found in the episode, or they have to capture the culprit and breakdown the mystery.

Small things, but I feel like having a constant bet between characters whether or not it's real or if it's fake would be something really fun actually. I think the audience would have fun getting in on the question too, and guessing along with the gang.

Part III: The Adult Part

So, this is a show for adults, but the fact it's FOR adults will not override that it IS Scooby-Doo. Which is to say, that it will have murder, swearing, mentions of sex, but it will not go beyond what you expect in terms of tone from Scooby-Doo. It's a fun horror comedy mystery show about 4 friends and their dog who investigate spooky mysteries. You can't change that core premise or you risk it no longer being Scooby-Doo and something else entirely.

So if you need a member of the gang to swear for a scene, you can, but it can't breach too far out of character for the group. Like Fred can say fuck, but he's still the leader Dad type guy who likes Daphne, and likes building absurd rube goldberg type traps. Shaggy can smoke weed, but he's still the goofy moral center of the group. He makes fun sandwiches, he cracks dumb jokes, he's scared of getting stabbed, but he sticks around for his friends. Velma can be a lesbian, but she's still the quirky smart character who loves books and science.

But most importantly you need to make sure it's still abundantly clear to the audience that no matter how much drama or crazy shit they see, Scoob & The Gang are all best friends who love working together.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | viii

Y/n quickly learns that touring with the brothers she is so emotionally intertwined with is not all that it’s cracked up to be.

Read part seven here

Listen while reading: Money for Nothing - Dire Straits, Voodoo Child (slight return) - Jimi Hendrix, Pride and Joy - Stevie Ray Vaughan

Pairing: sam kiszka x f!reader, jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: drinking, swearing, smoking, arguing, jealousy/intentional jealousy, insecurity, angst, sad Jake, flirting, making out, brief emotional talks, sorry if I miss any!

finally!! most of this is light hearted fun, but the end is clearly setting the tone for the following chapters. the calm before the storm, perhaps 🥰 sorry for the wait, and sorry if this is not my best work! im just trying to bridge the gap and set the themes before we get into the gritty emotional stuff next. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!! (p.s. this is super lightly edited 🫣)

Your bag dropped to the ground with a pathetic echo, the sound barely breaking through the dead air of the hotel room. It seemed just as exhausted as you were, and you found the slump of the fabric on the track bag ironically funny, because you felt like doing just the same. You kicked your shoes off at the door, immediately looking to the bed with longing in your eyes. Before you could get the chance to shut the door and climb under the covers, a surge of voices rang from down the hallway. You made your first mistake of the day as you peeked your head around the corner to investigate. Immediately, you saw your bandmates following behind Danny, who was moving towards your room with mischievous intent written all over his features.

By the time you had registered what was happening, Danny was close enough to reach out and touch you. You took a step backwards, a fruitless attempt at escape, but his hands were already reaching out for you. His fingers closed around your wrist just in enough time to pull you back into the hallway. “Danny!” You exclaimed, feeling a laugh break from your lips despite your disinterest in their antics.

“What do you think you’re doing? Trying to get away from us?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow as he spoke.

“Was hoping to take a nap before the show tonight. You know, so I don’t fall sleep on stage.” You rolled your eyes, but that answer was unacceptable for him.

“Oh come on, you’re gonna sleep away your first day of tour? Don’t let a little travel get you down.” Your two bandmates nodded their heads in agreement, standing guard with their arms crossed over their chests.

“I’m okay with that.” You nodded. It was uncharacteristic of you to refuse a party, but your bones were aching with sleepiness, begging you to rest on a mattress even for a moment.

“Yeah, but I’m not.” He said, reaching into his pocket and grabbing a mini bottle of fireball. “Drink up, sound check is in two hours.” You watched him, hoping for him to change his mind, but he had never looked so serious. You grabbed it, although openly reluctant about doing so. “That’s my girl.” He basked in his victory only for a moment before crouching to the ground.

“Danny, I’m not getting on your shoulders.” You refused. It was a charade the two of you seemed to fancy when you were drunk, but you were far too sober to entertain the idea now.

“Come on, have some fun!” He exclaimed, clearly over your displeasure with his attempts to set the mood. You let out a sigh, but ultimately did as he asked. You were never one to say no to Danny, especially when he seemed so happy. “Aha!” He spoke in triumph as he secured his hands on your thighs. He rose to his feet, and you ducked your head instinctively. The ceilings were high, not near close enough for you to hit your head, but your anxiety seemed to be much worse when you didn’t have any false confidence from alcohol.

“Don’t drop me, Daniel.” You scolded, holding onto his hands secured on your legs.

“Shut up and take the shot.” He chuckled, both of you knowing that dropping you was the last thing he would do, and if he did, he would cushion your fall just to make sure you wouldn’t get a scrape. He was the best friend you had ever had, and you were always a priority to him. He stopped in front of another door, loosening his grip on your leg only for a second to knock on the wood. After a few seconds, shuffling could be heard from inside the room, and Josh popped out from behind the door. He let out an immediate boom of laughter at the sight, clearly equally as thrilled about the first day of tour. Danny carefully grabbed another fireball shot from his pocket and handed it to the boy. He accepted and joined the party without a single exchange of words. You realized that this must be a normal antic for the boys, which also came with the realization that you had willingly signed up for months of the same torture.

“Two more to go.” Danny smiled.

“How many shots do you have?” You questioned, genuinely curious about the collection he was hoarding.

“Enough.” Was all he replied. Another door was knocked on, and Sam joined the party.

“Seems you’ve gotten taller.” Sam noted, looking up at you with a twinkle in his eyes. You wanted to chastise him, to sit back another witty remark, but every time you looked at him for a moment too long, all of the thoughts seemed to disappear from your brain. He always stole the moment, shining brighter than anything else. Instead of waiting for a response, he cracked the cap of the shot and tilted his head back, drinking down the liquid with nothing to spare.

You were hyper aware that the last person to retrieve was Jake, and you were excited to see him, although a bit nervous. Since the fiasco of the tour agreement signing, you and Jake had been distant. Not by an overwhelming margin, but definitely enough to notice. You were withdrawn because of your guilt for pushing him away, and he was withdrawn due to his hurt from you doing so. In your moments and nights spent alone, you could feel the tension in the air. It was minimal, but completely unspoken. Even the sex seemed to be different, definitely still phenomenal but a little less emotionally gratifying. You were both aching for connection, but couldn’t seem to find the right words to express it. You hadn’t seen him much on the plane, and you were itching to catch a glimpse of him, like an addict looking for a fix.

Sam, on the other hand, had grown quite fond of your company after the shared sweetness that night in his car. He felt closer to you than he ever had, and he wasn’t willing to give that up. In the weeks leading up to the start of tour, you had found yourself playing house with him more than usual, spending the night and drifting through the morning in minimal clothing and hearts dancing in your eyes. Morning coffee no longer tasted the same without his company, and the sunrise was a little less pleasant when he wasn’t there to share it with you.

Even with the space in your bed spoken for and the mornings laced with a promise of love, you couldn’t help but miss Jake. Every now and again, you yearned for that first morning spent with him, with his hands around your waist and his sweet nothings whispered in your ear. The serenity of cooking breakfast while he plucked away at a guitar and wordlessly dedicated songs to you; it was a subtle show of affection because, like always, he had been too afraid to speak it into existence. Your heart still ached for Jake, even with Sam loving you so deeply. He could tell; your eyes spoke it louder than any words you could say. You loved Sam, and he knew that even if you had refrained from saying it aloud, but he knew you loved his brother, too. He chose not to mention the pain he felt at the thought.

The debacle the three of you found yourself in had been going on for months, now. All of you were tired, ready for it to be over, but nobody was willing to give up. By refusing to let go, all of you were simply allowing the hurt to grow. If a choice in the beginning was impossible, it had grown into something even more catastrophic than what it started as. You prided yourself on being a levelheaded person, someone who was calculated and well thought out, but this mess was something so uncharacteristic for you. Had you been half the person you viewed yourself as, you would have put a stop to it long ago. You were a fool for both of them, and a fool for thinking you could outsmart them in their own game.

“Open up!” Danny sang as he knocked on the door of the last brothers room.

“M’coming!” He grumbled from inside. Within a moment, he appeared looking just as tired as you were feeling. He paused his movements, head just slight cocked to the side as he took in the sight before him. Slowly, his head upturned to you perched on Danny’s shoulders. You gave him a smile, one that showed him just how happy you were that he decided to join. His eyes softened at your expression, any gruff exterior melting away within an instant.

“Fireball?” You asked, carefully reaching down to hand him your bottle.

“You shouldn’t have.” He chuckled, retrieving the shot from you. He let his fingers rest on yours for a second extra, desperately wanting a moment of closeness with you. “But what about you?” A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Plenty more where that came from.” Danny answered for you, content that you seemed to be enjoying the energy, now. “Onward!” He sounded, turning quickly to go back in the direction you all came from. You grabbed on to him, holding yourself steady in fear of being dropped. He tightened his grip on your legs, a silent reassurance that he had you, and he wouldn’t let you go. “You know, I think we should try beer pong like this.” He theorized.

“I think that’s cheating.” You replied, seeing him near the door of your room.

“I’d let it slide.” Josh said, as if he were the commissioner of the game. Danny let out a noise of triumph, happy that he had someone on his side to disregard your arguments. He led everyone into your room, immediately walking to your bed and leaning backwards. You let out a shriek of terror as you began to lose your balance, but he loosened his grip on your thighs. You fell to the mattress, landing with a thud and a chorus of laughter from the audience surrounding you.

“Asshole,” you grumbled as you straightened yourself out.

“Here,” Danny threw a mini bottle at you. It landed beside you, catching your attention and distracting you from the excitement of the moment. “Drink up.” You did as you were told, cracking the cap and draining the alcohol from the bottle. The burn settled deep in your chest, the cinnamon overpowering and warming your body. Although the burn was not comparable to both of the familiar sets of eyes on you, neither thinking anything wholesome.

Sam was by the door, lost in chatter with Dylan and Riley, but his gaze was only settled on you. It did not matter who he was caught in conversation with, or what he was busy doing, you were permanently in the forefront of his mind. Jake was talking to Josh, small business about the show tonight and the importance of an opening night. Even though the context of the talk was about his passion, his biggest dream in which he’d been working his whole life to achieve, you were still heavily weighing on his thoughts. Jake was not even attempting to hide his stare; Josh was aware, and uncaring of the infatuation between the two of you. He continued speaking despite knowing Jake’s attention was not directed at him.

“Another?” Danny asked, pulling a few more bottles from his pocket.

“Jesus,” you laughed, amazed at the amount of alcohol he had shoved in the pocket of his jeans. “I’d like to make it to the concert, tonight.”

“Oh, you will. Don’t worry about that.” He assured you. “We’re celebrating your first day on tour ever. Isn’t it exciting?” He questioned, taking a seat next to you. You turned to face him, your back to the brothers in hopes to forget about their lingering eyes and wistful thoughts. You have a shrug, plucking another shot from his hand.

“Of course,” you nodded, but your tone was withdrawn.

“You’re nervous.” He stated, narrowing his gaze at you.

“No,” you scoffed, but avoided meeting his eyes at all costs. He could read you like a book; he didn’t need you to say the words for him to know. “Yeah.” You finally changed your stance when he refused to look away. “It’s normal, is it not? I mean, those people are there to see you guys, not us. And your fans… they can be ruthless, sometimes. I’m about to give my entire soul to the public, everything I’ve been scared of for my whole life. I think it’s okay to be a little scared.”

“Of course it is, y/n, but if you’re scared because you don’t think you have the talent, that’s not okay.” He corrected. You drank down the second shot, finally feeling a touch of relief from the anxiety constricting your chest. You took a deep breath as you swallowed down the alcohol, bargaining with your fear.

“I mean, I guess.” You sighed. “Fear of not being good enough is just as normal as anything else.”

“Not when you have as much talent as you do.” His answer was final, no willingness to debate the issue any further. “You’re going to get up there, and they’re going to love you just as much as they love us. You’re going to do fantastic, y/n. I’m not worried and you shouldn’t be, either.”

“Thank you, Danny.” You smiled. The warmth of his sincerity alone was enough to make you feel better, but his company worked even better. “I am excited, but I think the anxiety gets in the way of that sometimes.”

“Trust me, when you get in your stage clothes and they put your makeup on, you’ll feel like a whole new person. It’s a different kind of feeling, like you’re the most extravagant version of yourself and you can take on the whole world.” He assured you, taking a shot of his own. “Plus, we’ll be there on the sidelines cheering louder than anyone else. If you get nervous, just look for me.” He grinned. Sometimes you were overwhelmed by the support and love that Danny gave you. It was more than you had ever felt in your life, and you hoped he never stopped. Friendship with Danny was more beautiful than most simple pleasures in life, and he proved that love existed in many different ways, and even stronger than romantic by times.

“I love you.” You smiled, feeling the tension whither away indefinitely.

“I love you.” He said, glancing past you for a moment. “I think lover boy is jealous that I’m getting a moment alone with you.”

“Fuck, which one?” You sighed, rolling your eyes at the thought.

“Both.” He muttered, laughing to himself. “Any sign of stopping?”

“Plenty, but it seems like I’m colourblind, now. The stop signs look green and the red flags look pink.” You mumbled, twirling a frayed string from the rip in your jeans around your finger. “But the show must go on, right?”

“Not necessarily.” He shrugged. “Effect from cause, remember? If you’re hurting, you can stop it at the source.”

“I think that would hurt worse.” You gave a sad smile, shaking the idea from your head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s my own fault, so I’ll fix it somehow.” You advised, shuffling to your feet. “Thanks for the pep talk. I needed it.” You spoke softly as you moved towards the large glass doors on the other side of your room. Danny watched you walk away, realizing that pre-show anxiety might not be the only thing that was troubling you. He let you slip on to the balcony with no intent to follow. He loved you enough to recognize when you needed to be alone, and solitude was what you were craving. You were fine with the crowd hanging around your room, but you were searching for a moment of peace in hopes to decompress from the days activities.

You broke out into the afternoon air, surrounded by the distant sounds of the city. The sky was blue, cloudless and beholding the type of beauty you couldn’t recreate in a picture. You rummaged through your sweater pocket, locating a pack of cigarettes, and pulled one out. You took a seat on the patio chair, lighting the end and watching the flame from the lighter fizzle away in the wind. The building was tall, taller than any you had ever seen in your hometown, and you were nestled nearly at the top. You’d seen plenty of skyscrapers in Nashville, but upon your arrival in Atlanta you couldn’t believe how many people littered the streets of the cities you had never been privileged enough to visit.

You thought of your younger self, how excited she would be for you now, how thrilled she would be that you had broken free of the generational curses and you were finally living your dream. If only she could understand that implications of dreams were dangerous, and just because you were living the life you had hoped for did not mean you were perfectly content. Ever since the confessional of your broken childhood to Sam, it had been looming over your head like a sinister nightmare. You felt more pain over the memories of your past than you ever had before. You were forever wounded from the scars you had collected from loving the brothers now, and your body was giving way underneath the weight of your wrongs.

You were living your dream, yet you were so worn down that it was painful to enjoy it. You felt guilty for not being able to have fun; you knew you should be joyous, celebrating and drinking with the rest of your friends, but the ache that settled in your chest was almost too strong to withstand. Laughing felt foreign, and you thought that fun could not come without crushing guilt following it. You wished so badly that you could fall out of love as fast as you fell in love, but it just wasn’t possible. For a while, you felt like you were ahead, winning by possessing the ability of control, but they had their teeth in you, and as the days passed, claws, too. They were tearing you apart and you were letting them. The grief was growing, rooting into your bones and metastasizing on your soul while you mourned something you hadn’t even lost yet. But, loss was familiar even if you weren’t aware you were feeling it; you had lost yourself, respect for yourself, and the sense of right and wrong. You’d spent months believing you were gaining something from their love, but it simply wasn’t true. You’d given up so much of yourself amidst loving them that you were unrecognizable, now. The losses outweighed the benefits, and you were finally beginning to understand.

In your journey of learning how to love, you had quickly learned that loving was not easy. You can love and hurt at the same time, just the same as you can die while the sun is shining. As you sat under the sun, cigarette smoking in your hand, you realized that you already were. You were inviting it, welcoming death with open arms just to enjoy the peacefulness as you drifted. You were out of ideas on how to satiate the pain without inviting it back into your life, no idea how to heal the wounds without reopening them. The pain was worsened by them, but healed by them, too, and you were at the end of the road. Your last flame was flickering away, and they were out of fuel to keep it going. Instead of protecting it, you chose to focus on attempting to warm yourself with their fire, ignorant to the fact that their flames were producing a wind strong enough to turn you to dust.

“Hasn’t anyone told you that those are bad for you?” His voice cut through the serenity like a knife, breaking you from your internal brooding. It was so familiar, so comforting, yet left a lasting burn on your skin. He was comfort, but he was also catastrophe. Unfortunately for you, you were so comfortable in chaos that you loved him despite the disaster.

“Woke up a hypocrite, today?” You asked, not bothering to turn and look to him. For once, you weren’t yearning for the moment with him. You were perfectly fine with being upset, and perfectly fine without his help.

“Ouch,” he said, taking the seat beside you. “Just because I do it doesn’t mean I want you to do it, too. Not allowed to worry about you anymore?”

“I think you should stop worrying, Jacob.” You said, still refusing to look at him.

“I thought you quit?” He refused to give up, knowing that being on the receiving of your standoffish nature was better than not speaking to you at all.

“Living the rockstar lifestyle, now. Have to look the part.” You joked, but your tone was flat. You both fell into a silence, listening to the sound of cars passing below. You wanted to touch him, but you were afraid that you would give too much of yourself to him once more. It was so easy to give everything to Jake, even when he wasn’t asking for it.

“I miss you, y/n.” His admission was prompted by nothing but his own heart. The distance between you two was larger than it ever had been, and he was desperate to bridge the gap. He craved that connection he felt with you in the beginning, and he was fearful that all of the time you spent with Sam was locking him into a corner. He regretted pushing you to tell him your troubles, scared that it drove you even further away from him.

“I miss you, Jake.” You finally looked over at him, the sight of his face giving you nothing but pain. He caught your eye, holding your gaze but doing nothing more. He didn’t reach for you, not even expressing a thought that he would. He wanted you to reach for him, he needed to feel like you still wanted him as badly as he wanted you. If only he knew how much you wanted to tell him, he would never have to worry. You wanted to be everything for him; the best version of yourself, one that knew how to love properly and how to be loved by another, one who could give him the entire world, but you were fearful that you would never be that person, that you couldn’t be that person.

“When are you going to let me in, Gold Dust Woman?” He asked, looking back out over the balcony rail. The cloud of emotion radiating from him was so large that it was beginning to fill the sky with confessions and desires.

“I’m trying.” You whispered, flicking the ash off of your cigarette and watching as it fluttered to the ground. “I don’t know how.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yeah.” You admitted. “I really do, Jake, but it’s hard.”

“I think it’s time you let go of the idea that intimacy is easy.” He said, no passion nor desperation in his voice. He was fighting the battle with nonchalance despite every molecule in his body screaming for salvation. He had become painfully aware that emotion was not easy for you, but it was still excruciatingly difficult to contain his own. “You’ve been searching for the simple solution, but you need to understand that it’s not supposed to be easy. If it was, this would have been over a long time ago.” You wanted to be angry, upset that he shoved words down your throat that you didn’t want to hear, but he was right. Simplicity was extremely tempting, but it was not the answer to your questions. If you continued to search blindly for it, you would remain on the same journey until you died empty-handed and alone. “If you want to love me, you can. If you want to love him, you can. Sam and I aren’t strangers to the world we’ve been living in. I know you love him. I can see it. I can feel it when you look at him, y/n. I’m not asking you to stop feeling that way for him. I’m just hoping that you feel it for me, too. I think that you do, but I need to know if this is more than just sex, or if I’m only waiting to get my heart broken.”

“You’re an idiot if you can’t see it.” You were harsh, unbelieving of the fact that he was unsure if you felt that way for him. “It’s never been about sex, Jake. Maybe that first night, but never after that. If Sam gave me the world, and you didn’t, why would I still be here?” You asked, pulling your knees to your chest on the flimsy chair. Your cigarette was long burnt to a butt in your hand, but you continued holding it so you wouldn’t reach for another. You did feel obligated to teach them a lesson, but you never would have subjected him to so much pain if you felt nothing for him. “I don’t know how to let you in. I’ve spent my entire life trying to keep everyone out. Before you and Sam, I never needed to open up. I apologize for struggling, but it’s never been because I don’t want you.”

“There you go.” He whispered, looking back at you with more hope in his eye than before. “I’m not asking to be your hiding place for every secret. I would always keep it safe for you, but I know that’s too much to expect. I just need to know that you care. I think we’ve been doing this long enough for me to ask.”

“Like I said, Jacob. Idiot.” Your words were insulting, but a smile was tugging at your lips. There was one on his, too. “Don’t convince yourself you’re not special, because you know it’s not true. You know what you mean to me.”

“Don’t have to be so mean about it.” He joked, but the tension was nonexistent. You were back in the realm of comfortability that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I think we’ve been doing this long enough for me to say that.” You shot back his own statement. “In fact, I think you like it.”

“Sadist,” he whispered, hopeful for normalcy. He was rewarded when extended your hand out to him, which he slipped into his own eagerly. Silence became you as you both leaned back in your chairs, fingers interlocked while looking down upon the city. Although normal was not even close to what the current situation was, it was normal for you and Jake, and that was all that mattered.

“Are you excited?” He broke the silence after a long while without conversation.

“Scared.” You corrected. “Seems like fear is the only thing I know how to feel.”

“You’ll blow them away, Gold Dust Woman.” He assured you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I didn’t give you that nickname for nothing.”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” And you meant it. It was beyond you that Jake was able to persuade you to join them on tour, and although he did not single-handedly convince you, he definitely did the brunt of the work.

“You’ll change your mind after tonight. I promise.” He assured you, still trying to keep his eyes off of you. He felt if he looked in your direction again, he would never be able to look away. “Once the dream comes to life, you’ll never look back. You’ll want to live in it forever.”

“You’re telling that to someone who’s created a life from running away.”

“At least slow down to look at the sights, this time.” You broke, looking over at him in a moment of weakness. Through the storm weathering your brain, he was the moment of serenity. It was like driving under a bridge during a hurricane, loud for so long until you were covered by his shadow and blessed with silence.

“I am.” You promised, the two words strong and full of hope for something better. “I’ve been angry with myself for not knowing how to change, but it’s time to learn.” You explained. “I’m done running, and I’m trying not to be afraid anymore.”

“And I’m proud of you for it.” He finally caught your gaze again, weak from the power you had over him. “I’ll be proud of you forever, even if it has to be from a distance. Even if you don’t pick me, Gold Dust Woman.” He hoped the profession wouldn’t cause another rift between you, but the truth was that you had been waiting years for someone to say something so meaningful to you. When he said it the first time, it was too overwhelming to accept. Now, you could listen to him say it forever. Little by little, he was breaking down the wall.

“I…” Love you. “Like you, Jake. A lot.” You couldn’t muster the strength for the truth, but he knew. Even without the proper word spoken, he could feel the power of the statement.

“I like you, too.” He said, leaning in for a kiss. It was short, but sweet and filled with love. If you weren’t okay with speaking it aloud, he could settle for showing you. “We should probably get ready to head to the venue.” He said, regretful for pulling away. He wished he could kiss you until his lips turned blue and his lungs could no longer remember what oxygen felt like.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You agreed, but wished you could stay, too.

“I’ll come and see you before you get on stage.” He promised. “Just so you know your biggest fan is cheering you on.”

“You don’t need to be there for me to know that.” You murmured, nose still brushing with his own. He left another kiss on your lips, the sweetness strong enough to last until he could get the chance again.

The two of you filtered back into the hotel room to join the crowd. Your chest felt lighter, like Jake had picked up some of the weight that was dragging you down and put it upon his own shoulders. In a sense, he did. Jake was always willing to carry some of your struggle so you could walk with ease, even if it was a bit too heavy for him to handle. You grabbed your bag from the floor, picking through it to grab your wallet and any other necessities for the night. By the time you collected your belongings, the rest of the company dwindled away, returning to their own rooms to do the same. Jake did not stay to chat, but he did give you a look of longing before emerging into the hallway. He didn’t stay long enough to see it, but you gave him one just the same.

When you arrived at the venue, the sheer size of the building was overwhelming. It was a long journey from playing bars around town to opening for a world tour. A regular crowd for your local shows wouldn’t even fill a single section of this venue. Riley slipped an arm around your shoulder, sensing the return of your anxiety. He was incredibly understanding, mostly because they were both feeling the pressure too. When you entered the back door, event organizers were pointing you in the correct directions. You tried to swallow your nerves, but seeing how naturally the boys responded only made you realize how much of an amateur you were at their craft.

“You guys are up first for soundcheck,” Aaron said, nodding towards the stage. “We do most of the work, so just play a few songs. If something sounds off, let us know.”

“Oh, o-okay,” you nodded, looking to your bandmates. They seemed eager to get out there, like they were counting down the minutes until they could finally play for the world. You wished to dig a hole and hide in it forever; you never felt more out of place than you did in that moment.

“We’re okay.” Dylan assured you. “It’s going to be fine.” You gave another nod, letting the other to lead the way to the stage. Your instruments were set up, ready to go so the sound check could run smoothly.

You grabbed your guitar, throwing the strap over your head. You plucked a few of the strings, caught off guard by the volume. Riley did the same with a grin eating away at his cheeks, wanting to test the volume for himself. Dylan couldn’t contain her laughter at the excitement dancing in his eyes, hitting a few off beats to join in on the moment. It seemed like the sound of the music had struck a nerve in all of you. The sheer excitement from the volume was enough to keep you going. “Give me something to work with.” You broke out of your shell, joking with the drummer. She was pleased with your response, taking your comment and running with it.

She began a familiar beat, the sound ringing through the empty stadium. The noise was so strong that you could feel it in your chest, rattling your bones and overtaking your heartbeat, but it was fantastic. You had never felt more alive; all the fears you had been feeling seemed to float away, replaced with electricity from the booming beat of the drum. After a few moments, you hit a couple chords on the guitar. The clean tone wasn’t good enough for you, though. You took a step towards the pedalboard and engaged one of the switches with your foot. The distortion kicked in, prompting a smile on your lips. Dylan hit a high, her arms moving faster than you could comprehend, and then she stopped completely. There was stagnant air only for a second before you started the main riff of the song. Once you ran through it, Dylan and Riley joined.

“Now look at them yo-yo’s, that’s the way you do it

You play the guitar on the MTV

That ain’t workin, that’s the way you do it

Money for nothing and your chicks for free.”

You stopped playing as you finished, opting not to play the entire song and eager to move onto something a little harder. You looked between the two, your smile never leaving your face. “Let’s pick up the pace.” You teased, breathless and your cheeks stained red.

“Try me.” She challenged.

You turned off the distortion, clicking another pedal to replace the effect. You hovered your foot over the Wah pedal and began an intro to Voodoo Child. The other two joined and Riley began singing the lyrics to the song. You finished without a hitch, all of you giggly and high off the adrenaline rush.

“You want a challenge?” Riley asked. You nodded, listening intently for him to begin a bass line. He plucked a few familiar notes, lighting a fire in you.

“You’re on.” You cut him off, switching your pedals again. He lowered his hand, taking a step away from the mic in anticipation. You took a breath, closing your eyes for a moment to channel the right energy. He had picked a hard song, and you were unsure if you could pull it off, but you were more than willing to try. You took a look over your shoulder before starting, catching the staring eyes of the four boys watching in awe. Jake wasn’t even attempting to hide his stare, falling more in love with you every time your fingers graced the strings of the Les Paul. His eyes flickered to your face, hoping to catch a glimpse of your beauty in the moment. When he realized you were already looking at him, he sent a smile your way. You gave him a wink, but didn’t wait to see a reaction.

Your fingers carried the tune from muscle memory. It was fast, hard to keep up with even when you were the one setting the pace. You took a step to the microphone, Riley already well aware that you were leading the way. It was your favourite song to play, and one of the most difficult to beat in comparison to any other. It was a show stopper, and clearly he was looking to set the record straight with your talent. He knew that you belonged on the stage, but he wanted you to realize it, too. You sang through the first verse, extra concentrated to ensure you didn’t make any mistakes. When the chorus came around, the tension in your shoulders dissipated indefinitely, and you were one with the guitar as you played.

“He’s my sweet little thing,

He’s my pride and joy

He’s my sweet little baby,

He’s my little lover boy.”

You laughed into the mic as you sang and Riley jumped right into the next verse. He sang the second chorus, looking over to you as he led you into the solo. You took a step back from the microphone and towards the bassist, leaning into him as you played. He laughed at your antics, leaning forward as well while his fingers continued to move on the fretboard. Dylan was giggling as she tried to keep time with you both, always finding your performance hilarious. Being on stage seemed to bring out an entirely new side of you, but it was fantastic for them to see. You had a passion for performing, and if you could, you would stay on stage and sing until your lungs gave out. It was getting up there that was the trouble, and never anything that came after.

You both moved back to the microphones to finish the song, singing the lyrics together for the finale. When you plucked the final note, you barely had time to comprehend the loss of the music before cheers erupted from the side stage. You looked over at the group of boys, skin still tingling with the euphoric feeling of playing live music. Aaron gave you a thumbs up, happy with the sound and signalling that you guys were good. You placed your guitar back on it’s stand, rushing off to meet the group waiting for you. “We sound okay?” You asked, looking between them with a hopeful gleam in your eye.

“Okay?” Sam scoffed.

“Try amazing.” Josh corrected.

“Three man band really is all you need.” Danny smiled.

“Stevie Ray Vaughan?” Jake questioned, an eyebrow raised. The entire group turned to look at him, wondering if he was really going to critique the performance.

“Yeah,” you breathed, suddenly feeling nervous. ‘Was it that bad?’ You thought to yourself, shifting your weight on your feet.

“You have to be one phenomenal guitarist to pull that off.” He said, gaze still lingering over your face. He had a far away look in his eye, like his mind was completely elsewhere. “I think that you played it even better than he did. That was fantastic, Gold Dust Woman.” The term of endearment slipped out, like a little secret he’d been burying for a lifetime was finally too strong to withstand. He was too in love with you to notice, and you were too ecstatic to care. Hearing such a compliment from Jake was more intoxicating than any kind of substance you could use. You wished you could live in the cloud of elation from his words forever.

Before you could speak to thank him, you were being pulled in another direction from a set of unfamiliar hands. The event staff was whisking you away to your dressing room, but you weren’t ready to leave. You wanted to tell him how much his compliment meant to you, to stay and admire his beauty for just a moment longer. Looking at Jake was like wishing upon a shooting star; normally, your hopes felt feeble, but the sight of him before you served as a reminder that all dreams could come true if you wished hard enough. Before you were completely out of reach, he managed to reach for your hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Your fingers broke from him while still caught in a plea for more, but you had things to do that did not include his company.

“Gold Dust Woman?” Dylan asked, both her and Riley following along close behind you. The staff directed you into a dressing room, stating that this would be yours and your stylist would join you shortly. “Did the name come from him, or does he call you that because of the name?”

“Lines a little blurred there, honestly. I couldn’t tell you.” You shrugged, stepping inside the room. Riley went his separate way, being led down the hallway to a different area. But Dylan wasn’t one to quit, never leaving your side until you were unable to escape her.

“Come on, y/n.” She pried, a laugh stuck in her throat.

“Yes, the name came from him.” You snipped, taking a seat on the couch. She sat beside you, kicking her feet up on the table sitting in front of her and making herself at home.

“I thought you and Sam were a thing. Doesn’t it bother him that you named your band after Jakes nickname for you?” It was your turn to laugh, the question so incredibly hard to answer that it was more humorous than anything.

“Yes, Sam and I are a thing.” You said, sinking down into the cushions. She watched, waiting for you to continue. When you didn’t, her eyes widened in shock.

“Him, too?”

“Him first, actually.” You muttered. “It’s all so fucked up.

“They’re brothers,” she said, looking off into the distance as she processed the information. “Promiscuous.” She giggled, looking back at you. “Good for you.”

“No, not good.” You chuckled, still finding her jokes funny despite the twisted premise of the conversation. “It’s a mess, and I don’t know how to get out of it.”

“Clearly, if you named the band after him.” She let out another giggle, shaking her head at the new information as she reiterated her point. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.” She assured you.

“Haven’t felt very smart lately.” You sighed as you looked up at her. She gave a sympathetic nod, but wasn’t anywhere near ready to end the conversation yet.

“They’re cute, so you have that going for you at least.” You both shared a laugh, unable to refute the fact. “How long?”

“Couple months.”

“And you’ve been keeping it a secret from me for that long?” She feigned a look of hurt.

“Guess I thought if I didn’t talk about it, it would work itself out. I was wrong.”

“It’s okay to be wrong sometimes. Happens to all of us.” She shrugged. “I thought Gold Dust Woman came from your love for Fleetwood Mac. I was wrong. Very wrong.” You both divulged into another laugh, one that made your stomach ache and your lungs desperate for oxygen.

“Which one are you in love with?” She asked, ceasing her laughter but holding her smile. You looked up to meet her eyes, unable to give her the proper answer. “I mean, whichever one you choose should be the one you fell in love with. After this long, you should know that by now.”

“Both of them.” You mumbled, looking to your hands in your lap. “I love them both, for completely different reasons.”

“Ouch,” she winced, not expecting the bluntness of your words. “That makes it tough, then.”

“You have no idea.” You replied, cut off by a body entering the room carrying two large suitcases worth of supplies.

“Alright, y/n?” The unknown woman asked, eyes drifting between you both. You raised your hand, giving her a smile. “You’re up first for makeup and wardrobe.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Dylan slapped her hands to her thighs before making a move to stand. You gave her an apologetic smile, but she was out the door before she even noticed. You turned your attention to the girl you had yet to be introduced to, giving her a warm grin, excited for what she had in store for you.

She ushered you over to the chair on the other side of the room. You took a seat, but didn’t speak a word until she got a good look at you, familiarizing herself with your face. “I’m your stylist. Specifically yours, but I do work with Greta’s team occasionally. I’m Rachel.” She hummed, running her fingers through your hair.

“Nice to meet you.” You said, looking at your reflection in the mirror while she studied you. You could already tell you were going to like her; she had an exuberant attitude that drew you in, even with her minimal conversation.

“I have lots of stuff planned for you, but I want to hear your thoughts.” She said, pulling another chair up beside you. She took a seat, leaning back and watching your face. “What do you want to look like? Who do you want to be when you get up on that stage?” You pondered her words, thinking hard about the personality you wanted to encase.

“Confident. I want to be me, but just more confident.” You deducted. “Don’t have a whole lot of that normally, so I want something to make me look like I am. Maybe I’ll actually feel it once I get out there.” She nodded as you spoke.

“I like it.” She smiled. “Are you a bold colour type of person, or do you like darker?”

“Darker clothes usually, but I don’t mind a bit of excitement.” She chuckled.

“You’re comfortable with makeup?” You nodded. She repeated your action, standing once again. “Alright, I think I’ve got it figured out.”

She got to work, starting with your makeup. You made as much small talk as the situation would allow, but mostly just enjoyed being pampered. It was something you had never experienced before, and you were enjoying being able to sit back and relax while somebody else was doing the brainstorming for the final look. She was agile with her hands, quick at her job and damn good at it, too. When she finished your makeup, she took a step back for you to admire the sight. You had a black smokey eye, bold and yet elegant looking. It was complimented by a precise wing of gold eyeliner that made your eyes stand out. Deep contour and a dusty blush plastered your cheeks, and your lips shined with a glossy glow. Where highlighter usually sat, she had arranged a few gold star stickers that shimmered under the light. Your eyebrows were done neatly and false eyelashes sat on your eyelids.

You barely recognized yourself; you felt more beautiful than you ever had before. The makeup was heavy, but somehow looked natural, like your face was meant to house such a statement. When you looked to her with a gleam in your eye, you didn’t even have to tell her how good she did. It was written all over your expression. She got you into your outfit next, saving your hair for last. She helped you into the unfamiliar clothes, fixing a shirt on you that would certainly catch attention. It was a metallic gold tank top with only one strap. It was asymmetrical, coming down further on the opposite side of the strap and sitting above your hip on the other. She used a few safety pins to hold the fabric to your bra, ensuring it wouldn’t slip out of place. You out on a pair of black pants that were tight, hugging every inch of your skin and complementing the right spots.

“Heels or no?”

“Yeah, I’m good with heels.” You agreed. You wore them often enough to be comfortable in them all night without worry. She found a pair of black leather boots with a thicker heel to make you as comfortable as possible. You changed from your regular shoes into the new pair before checking yourself in the mirror.

You were baffled at your reflection; you had no idea you could look so enchanting with such little work. It seemed like she completely transformed you into the most stunning version of yourself. “Alright, hair and then we’re done.” She smiled. You took a seat back in the chair and watched as she searched for the tools she needed. She took little time running a curling iron through the locks of your hair with ease. She clipped them as she curled, wanting them to keep their shape while she worked. Once she finished, she brushed through the ringlets with her fingers, breaking them up as they formed into one solid wave. She doused it with hairspray to hold it there, and then spritzed some glitter into the strands so it would glisten under the stage light. “What do you think?”

“I… I don’t even know what to say.” You gave a small laugh, inspecting your reflection intently. “I don’t even recognize myself. It’s… ethereal.”

“It’s all you, Gold Dust Woman. You just look the part, now.” She grinned, making a move to pack up her things. You knew that she had called you that because of the name of your band, but you couldn’t help but feel a tingle down your spine at the term. Jake had done fantastically at sedimenting himself into your thoughts, making himself inescapable even when the situation had nothing to do with him. “I have to get started with Dylan, but if you need me I’ll just be in her room.”

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, still breathless at the glamorous nature of your presentation. “Thank you.” She filtered out of the room, bags rustling as she struggled to keep them all in her arms. After a few more moment of admiration for her work, you decided to explore the place a bit more.

You stepped into the hallway, peering around for a familiar face. You heard the sound of music lingering through the air, figuring the boys were still amidst their own sound check. Instead of waiting around, you walked towards the door that led to the main building in hopes of locating a bar. You snuck into the next hallway, looking around curiously at the unfamiliar territory. It was silent, seemingly no bodies present in the area, but you continued on your search anyway. You broke into a main entrance, sunlight beaming through the panel windows. Chatter sounded from a distance, and you noticed a sign on the wall displaying directions. You let out a noise of triumph, following the arrow that was pointing to a bar.

When you presented yourself in front of the counter, there were a few people bustling behind it and making small talk amongst themselves. When they noticed your presence, a younger man walked to greet you. “Was hoping there was a bar here. Otherwise I would have looked quite ridiculous walking around for nothing.” You grinned.

“Where there’s music there’s alcohol, right?” He chuckled.

“Right.” You agreed. “Double rum and coke, please.” You pulled a twenty from the back of your phone case, ready to pay him, but he seemed immersed in the details of your face.

“You’re part of the opening act, right?”

“Yeah, that’s my band.” You smiled, nodding your head towards the tour posters splayed across the walls.

“So, was that you I heard singing earlier?” He raised an eyebrow. You scanned his expression, noticing his eyes were laced with flirtatious undertones. He wasn’t bad looking; in fact, he was quite handsome, but you were in no position to entertain a third pursuer. Not that he could ever compare to the two boys you had already fallen for, anyway.

“It was.” You nodded, keeping the smile on your lips. Entertaining was different than enjoying, after all, and you could definitely enjoy it without intent for more. “Did I sound good?”

“Don’t know why you’re not headlining.” He responded, his voice dropping slightly as he poured the liquor into your cup. “Pretty face, pretty voice. You’ve got it all.” Under all of the makeup, you felt your cheeks heat with a blush. He sat your drink on the counter and you tried to pass him the money to pay. “This one’s on me,” he said, refusing to accept the bill. “As long as you come back and say hi before the night ends.”

“I guess I’ll have to.” You grinned, taking a sip from the straw. “Thank you.” He grabbed a pen and quickly jotted something down on a napkin. He slid it your way before speaking again.

“If you’re around town after the show and looking for some sights to see, give me a call. I make a great tour guide.”

“I’ll certainly keep that in mind.” You grinned before uttering a small goodbye. You followed the same path back to the backstage entrance. As you made your way back to your room, your stomach sank with disappointment in yourself for flirting back with the bartender, even knowing how in love you were with Jake and Sam both. Even so, you couldn’t help but notice the carefree nature you had during the interaction; it was nice flirting with someone other than the two boys. It was easy, no crushing guilt nor worry for repercussions about your actions. You’d spent so long tangled within the Kiszka web that you forgot how simple love could be, and the realization was horrible to feel.

Amidst loving both of them so deeply, you had forgotten the ease and carelessness that came before them. You adored them, and knew that what you felt for them was true, but the pain from loving them was hard to handle sometimes. It wasn’t hard enough to want to stop, but it was definitely painful enough to make you wish for something easier by times.

You rounded the corner into your dressing room, stopping with a shock when you noticed the body present on your couch. He looked up from his phone with a smile on his lips as he prepared to greet you. Once his eyes landed on you, he couldn’t seem to find the words he wanted to say. At the sight of him, your previous thoughts dissipated instantly, only leaving a residual sense of guilt behind. The phone number in your pocket was meaningless; no matter how difficult loving them could be, nobody else could ever make you feel the same way that the brothers could. “Hi, Sammy.” You breathed, suddenly nervous just from his presence. Even in his street clothes, completely relaxed and careless, he was stunning.

“Hello, Gorgeous.” He greeted you in the same awestruck tone, a smile tugging at his lips. “Or Gold Dust Woman, rather.” He corrected. You forced a smile onto your lips, worried that his words were hidden with hurt from Jake’s term of endearment, but he didn’t seem to be upset at all. Perhaps he was just referring to the band name. You had gotten yourself in quite a bind by naming the band after Jake’s favourite nickname for you, but it felt so right at the time that you couldn’t seem to refute the idea.

“Like the new look?” You asked, moving towards him. He stood, ready to greet you as you approached. Once you were within reach, you placed your drink down on the table and he snaked his hand to your waist, pulling you into him.

“Love it, actually.” He brought his other hand to your cheek, fingers gently brushing against your skin as they moved under the hair framing your face. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, an involuntary reaction prompted by the blissful feeling of his skin on your own. “I think I’d like it more if we took the clothes off.” He added, the hand on your hip tightening more as he spoke. You felt a flutter in your stomach, unable to fight the rush of emotion that arose from his statement.

“Behave yourself, Sam.” You scolded, but a smile was growing on your lips.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He was smiling, too. His face was just hovering over your own, his lips dangerously close to yours. Too close to resist. “I’m sure your stylist wouldn’t mind fixing you up again. If we locked the door, nobody would ever know.”

“Don’t want to ruin her hard work.”

“Can I at least get a rain check for the hotel?” You could practically feel his lips on yours, his close proximity being the only thing you could think of.

“You know my room number.” You said, leaning forward and bridging the gap between you. He responded enthusiastically, happy that you made the move. Although you denied him sex, you weren’t willing to deny him everything all at once. You parted your lips slightly, deepening the kiss. The longer you kissed him, the more you were willing to agree to his suggestion of locking the door. When you parted from him, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes. “Is that my good luck for tonight?”

“You don’t need any luck,” he brushed your comment off. “Not with that much talent.”

“So it was just an invitation for later.” You laughed.

“Yeah, exactly.” He agreed, pulling you in for another kiss. It was short, but sweet and filled with love. You both had become experts at saying I love you without uttering a word. “They opened the doors not too long ago, so you guys will be up soon.”

“Okay,” you heard his words, but didn’t really register the meaning. You were too immersed in his company to care about what was to come next.

“I don’t want to distract you for too long.” He mumbled, letting his thumb drift over the exposed skin on your neck. “Just wanted to tell you that you’re going to do great. The kiss was just a bonus.”

“I think another one would be even better.” You crooned. He let out a low chuckle, agreeing with you but not willing to give in. “Just for a little extra luck.”

“Well, if that’s the case…” he trailed off, leaning down and pulling you into one last kiss. You held him to you, enjoying the moment too much to let it slip away so soon. You let out a hum of pleasure against him, letting him know just how much you appreciated his company.

You were so lost in him that when a sharp knock on the door sounded, you nearly jumped out of your skin in fear. You jumped away from him, much like a kid who was showing guilt for doing something mischievous. Although your entanglement was known to many, you still felt that pestering need to hide it. You turned, nearly vibrating with anxiety, to see who was at the door. When your eyes landed upon the intruder, your stomach sank. Jake was standing in the doorway, face stoney and eyes glossed over with a type of pain that was impossible to conceal. You had forgotten about his promise to visit you before the concert. You had forgotten about your own rule of keeping your relationships with them separate. You had welcomed Sam and disregarded Jake once again, and this time it seemed like it had devastated him even more so than the last.

Sam could sense the tension, also appearing sheepish for being caught. It served little comfort to know that neither seemed like they were in a rush to leave. “Wardrobe, Sam. They’ve been looking for you for ten minutes.” His tone was strong, his sentences short. His chest was aching at the thought of Sam loving you in the same way he did. Knowing it was one thing, and seeing it was another, even more horrible thing.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat. He omitted any type of goodbye, but did brush hands with you on his way by as a silent show of apology. Jake barely moved out of the way to let him by, causing Sam to bump Jake’s shoulder with his own. When he disappeared around the corner, you were at a loss for words to express your remorse.

“Came by to make sure you were doing okay. Guess he beat me to it.” He gave a tight lipped smile, showing no emotion as he spoke, but you knew how much it was bothering him. “You seem to be doing more than alright.”

“Jake, I’m sorry.” You pleaded, desperate to make up for the mishap somehow. You took a step towards him, but he took a step back. He didn’t want it, and you didn’t want to push him. As he scuttled away from you, his eyes landed on something on the floor. He leaned down and picked it up, eyes dusting over the words written on the paper. The napkin with the bartenders phone number had slipped from your pocket, but the innocent interaction seemed to come back just to bury you within the grave.

“You really have been busy tonight.” He hummed, looking back to you and extending his arm for you to grab the napkin. “Better give the ‘handsome bartender’ a call, just to make sure he doesn’t feel left out, too.” He didn’t intend to sound so rude, but he didn’t know how else to respond to the situation. You snatched the napkin, frantically reading over the message the nameless boy wrote.

“This?” You said, crumpling it and throwing it in the garbage. “Is nothing. If I can swear to anything, it’s that.” You came off stronger than intended, your desperation evident and very unflattering. “I’m not calling him, Jake. I call you, I want to see you, I like spending time with you. I like you.” You hoped that your profession would serve a purpose, but it only seemed to drive him further away. Perhaps if you were able to speak the true sentiments that you had for him, it would have made the difference.

“And Sam, y/n. Can’t forget about him.” He reminded, raising an eyebrow at you. You couldn’t find the words to answer, so instead you said nothing. You had never seen Jake look at you with such contempt, and it was killing you. Any thoughts of the simple nature with the bartender were futile. You were certain you would never care this much about another person. You had never before cared enough to want to stop someone from walking away. You were a lot of things, but never one to beg someone to stay. “And it was enough to get you to take his number, though. Two not enough for you anymore?”

“Oh, fuck you, Jake.” You snapped, feeling a bubble of anger rise within you. “You started this and now you want to chastise me for being stuck in the middle? You don’t get to be mad, Jacob. We’ve been over this.” Your defensive response was not what was needed to diffuse the situation, and you could tell that it did nothing but worsen the tension. Jake gave a slow nod of his head, wondering if you were going to say anything else. When you stood, staring with fire dancing in your eyes, he spoke again.

“You’re gonna do great tonight, y/n.” He said as monotone as he could. He thought if he had the ability to properly express himself, he might be able to put the suffering to an end. The first time was child’s play, a superficial scrape in comparison to the stab that came with this one. Before, it was easy to digest the knowledge of you loving Sam. Now, it was excruciating. Everything was easier to overcome when love wasn’t a question, but once the dreaded feeling settled in and seemed to want to stay, the pain seemed to hurt just a little bit worse each time.

“Wait, I’m sorry. Jake, please.” You took another step towards him, hoping he would stay long enough for you to talk to him.

“You look beautiful.” He added, turning away from you. “You really fit the part, Gold Dust Woman.” He muttered to himself, shaking his head as he walked away. You stepped into the hallway to follow, but instead, you watched him walk away. You knew there was no way to stop his hurt; that ache in his chest was all too familiar, and the only thing that would put an end to it was a decision that you weren’t ready to make. As much as you wanted to take his pain away, you needed to understand that sometimes it was impossible, especially in that moment, because you were the one causing it. It was horrible knowing that you wanted to give him the world, but you were the sole reason he couldn’t have it.

You didn’t have time to dwell because your bandmates had crowded behind you, jittering with excitement and eager to see your outfit. In hopes to tend to your own wounds, you retired to your dressing room with the other two in tow. You drank away your sorrow as your friends expressed their feelings about performing, and after a while, you managed to find the strength to speak, too. When the time to perform drew near, the staff came to explain how it would work and give you instructions and cues to remember. You were so nervous by the time you were supposed to get on stage that your interaction with Jake had floated to the back of your mind. Your stylist came to touch up makeup, and the three of you were sent to side-stage.

You had your eyes closed intermittently as you walked to the curtain, blocking out the world and repeating encouragements in your head to overshadow any doubt. As you opened your eyes and exhaled the breath you were holding, you took a look around your surroundings. When you turned your head back towards the hallway, you felt like you had been punched in the stomach. Jake was placed perfectly against the wall in plain sight. He had a smile on his lips and his arm slung around the waist of an unfamiliar woman. In an instant, you were brought back to your own garage, drunk off cheap vodka and grief over your non-existent relationship with Sam Kiszka. It only took one smile with hidden implications to send you into a downward spiral of despair. One touch that was bordering the line of innocence shattered your confidence, leaving you choking down the suffocating feeling of not being good enough. His fingers lingering on her waist were grounds to drive you to insanity. You felt like you were going to be sick.

As if he knew you were watching, like he knew you were there and hurting over his careless behaviour, he looked up and caught your eyes. He let his stare captivate you for a moment too long before a smile graced his lips, proving that his motive was solely to piss you off. He was intentional about his actions, and covering his own hurt in the only way he knew how: shutting down and pushing you away. It was soul-crushing, the way he protected himself, because it was the exact same thing that you had learned to do. He didn’t break your stare until the woman let out a giggle and wiggled further into his arms.

“You look like you’re going to throw up.” Dylan said, worry evident in her tone.

“I’m good.” You assured her, swallowing down your momentary distaste for Jake. If he wanted to play with fire, he was asking to get burned. “Let’s put on a hell of a fucking show.” You said, staring straight faced at the instruments that awaited your hands.

“You guys are on.” Aaron ordered, cutting your conversation short. You shared a look between your bandmates, feigning confidence as you emerged onto the stage. You pushed the thought of Jake as far down as you could, ignoring the searing sensation left in its place. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, ignited with rage over his childish tactics.

The spotlight beamed down on you, nearly blinding you as it illuminated your face. You picked up the Gold Top, taking your place by the microphone as your friends situated themselves with their own instruments. “Hello, Atlanta!” Riley boomed into the microphone. He was met with cheers from the crowd. Thousands of people were staring up at you, curious about who you were and what you had to offer. “It’s great to be here. We’re new at this, so please be patient with us while you wait for the main event.” Laughter filled the air, easing your erratic heartbeat.

“If you don’t know who we are, I really hope you will after tonight.” You smiled into the mic, eyes drifting over nameless faces. Another wave of applause filled the stadium.

“There’s no better way to introduce ourselves than by honouring the woman who started it all: Stevie Nicks.” Riley said, looking to you. “Take it away, Gold Dust Woman.” You smiled at his introduction, immediately looking down at your hands and plucking the first notes to the infamous song.

Muscle memory guided you through the cover of the song you held so dearly to your heart, but the lyrics served no comfort as you sang. You took the stage by storm, breaking out of your shell and singing the anthem of the band, the anthem perfect for a woman who was as despicable as you, but there was still some habits that you couldn’t seem to break. Every face in the crowd seemed to morph into Jake’s, and your lungs burned with anguish at the sight. No matter how hard you tried to forget him, he seemed to want to invade every possible aspect of your life until there was nothing left to overtake. You loved him dearly, but it was at a cost too high to afford; you were losing your sanity, and he was just happy that it was at his own hands rather than his brothers. Your twisted game only seemed to become more sick as time passed.

But, the blame was not on Jake alone. You would not have taken the name Gold Dust Woman had it not fit the narrative. You would not be a Gold Dust Woman if not for your deepest desires being the exact things that would inevitably destroy you in the end.

Rock on Ancient Queen

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld @gretavansara @jaketlove @laneygvf @freefallthoughts @psychedelicsprinkles @idontwannabeherenow @joshysgirl @sanguinebats @objectsinspvce @klarxtr @sinarainbows @jakesmustache

[fainthedcherry]

ALSO; Here's ANOTHER piece I forgot to post, but was really excited to post. Yeeeah it doesn't get better with my inconsistency and forgetfulness, I know, it's only getting worse haha.

THIS IS A COMMISSION THIS TIME, for my friend Hollowed-Hartlocke on DA and TH!!

Owloette and this outdated, redesigned version of Hoodude belongs to Hollowed-Hartlocke design wise,

Chiri belongs to me (she's in the BG by request of Hart)

Vanilly Hoodude Voodoo belongs to Mattel, and so does Heath Burns (to the right of the drawing.) ((The outfit is not official, I made a random outfit design to fit thematically))

Thank you SO SO much for believing in me, being so patient for me for so many years now!! I am so happy, that you were the first person, to actually pay me in IRL money, what an honour, that my friend is so nice to me man. 🥺💖

Yes, a commission! In this modern day, can you believe it? I've yet to finish 2 more comms, I hope to finish them this year, honest to god. It's so hard to get a grip on some responsibilities, as I gotta figure stuff out appointment-wise with my driver's exams, psychologist-stuff abt my diagnosis still, and ofc, deal with the fact, that I gotta babysit my coworkers (not exaggerating, I keep being bugged on my weekends about my coworkers over some random annoying stuff they didn't wanna do under the normal work-week), and continue to study for tests and finish a presentation until next week.

^As you can tell, it's a bit stressful lately, which is why I had difficulty drawing at home, getting out of bed, to add with cramps post-work, hip- and knee pain in my bones, migraines. it all stacks up, and it doesn't help, that I lately had a spike in my ADHD seemingly acting up again. Been unable to concentrate, been getting overwhelmed, been having some EXTREME time-blindness. It's a bit hard with life lately. :")

It probably makes sense, why I was absent for a good bit. I ache a lot physically, and mentally lately and just. A. LIFE. I DO NOT LIKE IT. BUT MUST SURVIVE IT.

I again, tried something different with the lighting here, being a more direct-light source! I tried to make the lights look harsher, and I think this isn't too bad! Again, in hindsight of 2024, months later, shoulda proooobs made the shading sharper in appearance, still looks too soft, for direct-light hitting this floppy fellow. And also, added a drop-shadow for Heath near the lighting. Dear god, I wish I wouldn't make so many mistakes aaaa.

But oh well, that's what passage of time is, growing up, sucking up mistakes, trying to rid of your perfectionism.

[anarchy-n-glitter]

Bring the Pain

SUMMARY: Chucky and Daphne talk things out after he shows up in her living room unannounced. He tells her he's dying and needs her help.

WORDS: 3,649

(PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE)

CHAPTER 2

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Chucky couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed by her reaction. 

“It’s been years and that’s how you greet me?” He gawked, feigning hurt and bringing a stubby, plastic hand to his plush chest. The way he blinked and moved so slowly unnerved her. “You made it hard to find you, by the way.”

“Maybe that’s cause I didn’t want you finding me?” She took another good look at the living doll. “You look like shit.” She remarked coldly, placing the iron doorstop on the ivory end table beside the loveseat. She watched the doll wearily as he began to comb his hand through his thinning hair. 

“Hey quit shedding on my chair! I want my place to look decent.” 

Chucky looked around slowly, holding back a laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry doll, I’ll keep the place spiffy. My hair would go great next to last week’s dirty dishes on the counter!” He howled. “Wait, wait… maybe it’ll look nice in the dirty laundry corner!” He continued to cackle obnoxiously loud, slapping his tiny knee and kicking his feet. Daphne rolled her eyes, despite the tears that seemed to flood them at the sound of his laugh again. He continued on, listing everything gross about her apartment, pointing out everything she had begun to feel insecure about lately. His laughter died down finally with a wheeze and a small coughing fit that had the woman furrowing her brow. 

“Anyway, disgusting fucking apartment aside,” he groaned, struggling to get to his tiny feet as his plastic body made popping noises she never thought she’d hear from a doll.  His sky blue eyes met her emerald ones and for the first time in 35 years she felt a spark. 

A spark with a doll? Be so for real Daphne. 

“Me looking like shit is exactly why I’m here.” Chucky gestured awkwardly to his barely two-foot tall self. “I’m dyin’, Daph.” She bit the inside of her lip. Hard. 

He had to be lying, there was no way a slimy bastard like Chucky was dying. Daphne glared at him, trying so hard to find where he would be lying. In the brighter light of the lamp she could see he was far worse off than she originally thought. Crows' feet bordered his sunken eyes and wrinkles were apparent on his forehead. In the dull, thinning forest of auburn were small strips of wispy white. He looked like he aged 15 years, which was actually better than she expected.

“I mean, you’re aging.” Daphne stated simply, shrugging. She couldn’t say why he was aging, she wasn’t as well versed in this voodoo stuff as he was, but she couldn’t say for sure that he was dying. For all she knew, this was just another one of his fucked up manipulation tactics. 

“No shit, captain obvious.” He growled. “I went to see some witch doctor-” He stopped abruptly at the sound of her giggling. Rolling his eyes, he continued: “And he said Damballa is pissed because of an exorcism.” Daphne tilted her head curiously.

“An exorcism?”

“Yeah, these asshole kids tried to expel certain parties from a certain doll. Well, certain parties are not pleased.” Oh, oh, this was too good. 

“So because of that Damballa think’s you’ve abandoned him?” The doll nodded. Daphne held back another laugh. “And you want me to risk pissing him off more to help you?” 

“Well, yeah.” Chucky stated simply. He gestured to her. “I mean, come on Daph, you look great! It’s clear you’re doin’ somethin’ right.” 

Daphne looked away to hide the way her cheeks grew red at his compliment. “Duh, that’s cause I stay away from catholics.” 

“Those kids were not catholic!”

“Even worse.” She answered as she walked into the kitchen. She heard the thud! of Chucky jumping off the chair onto the hardwood floor and the hilarious patter of his tiny feet shortly after. Somehow, despite the change in his stature and circumstance, he felt like nothing changed. Daphne still had a sharp tongue and the banter with her really got him going.

Whether that was good or bad depended… and in this context it worked him up in a bad way. 

“You shouldn’t walk away from me when we’re talking, babe. It’s rude.” An amused smile crossed Daphne’s dark lips. 

“Or what? You’re gonna kick my shins till I die?” She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn’t necessarily care. She’d love to see what he’d do.  She knelt down in front of the homicidal doll, a wide smile on her face. 

“You are treading on some thin fucking ice, doll.” He warned in a tone that used to send shivers down her back. Depending on the context it was either from fear or arousal, but now she tried not to laugh. She saw the anger boiling inside him, the frown on his cherub-like face, and it made it all the funnier. 

“Chuck, I’m not afraid of you.” Daphne stated simply, pinching at his plastic cheeks. I never have been. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know how anyone is.” She stood up straight and went back to the sink, trying her best to tidy up after he pointed out every little thing wrong with her apartment. 

Things had really gone downhill since Tess died.

Daphne scrubbed away at the dishes, one by one and placed the slightly cleaner glassware on the counter above the dishwasher. She opened the dishwasher and glanced inside, realizing she never unloaded the damn thing from the last time she ran it… which was two whole weeks ago. She shook her head as she collected the clean dishes and placed them in the cabinets, nearly forgetting the murderous doll was still wandering about her apartment.

Chucky was a lot harder to keep track of now.

She had finally gotten the dishwasher cleared when she felt a sharp, burning pain in her back. All she could do was freeze for a moment, choking on her words as her nerves were set aflame. That little fucker had climbed on her back and was feverishly stabbing her in the back - what else was new?

“Fuck!” Daphne flung him onto the counter and stood up straight, feeling the warmth of her blood trickle down her back. A shaking hand reached behind her and pulled the knife from its place, and she dizzily examined the blade. This knife was from the dishwasher! She thought to herself in a haze. Chuck, you’re in for it now.

Slowly, like all wounds, the slashes in her back began to mend on their own. Skin and muscle joining together, melting into one, as blood gushed down her back. It hurt like hell and Daphne had to grit her teeth to not scream. She found that this little party trick didn’t quite have the same effect on people if she showed them it hurt. The doll that laid on her counter slowly began to sit up, watching Daphne closely. She huffed indignantly as she palmed her back again, finding holes in her favorite leather top. 

“You ruined my favorite shirt, you little shit!” Daphne threw the knife toward the living room, not caring where it landed. Chucky looked up at her in awe, a wicked smile coming to his face finally. 

“That amulet does a lot more than just keep you young, doesn’t it?” His question came off more like a statement. He knew now, he didn’t need her to say anything. It was annoying knowing that he couldn’t threaten her when she got on his nerves now, but it did explain why she so comfortably laughed in his face. 

It reminded him of Tiffany, though she eventually paid for not taking him seriously. 

Daphne straightened up, looking all too smug for someone who was just stabbed. “No shit, captain obvious.” She spat his words back at him. Chucky howled with laughter.

“I missed you, Daph.” He finally said, wiping tears from his eyes. Daphne paused, watching him wearily and wrapping her arms around herself. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She swallowed.

“I missed you too.” Daphne whispered, self conscious. 

“Finish doin’ the dishes and come talk. I got a favor to ask of ya.” And with that, the doll slid off of the counter and scurried off to the living room. 

⛋⛋⛋⛋⛋

The words from his plastic lips felt surreal. A plan, an insane plan, one that only he could come up with and think he could get away with. Six souls; six sacrifices, that was the prescribed solution to Chuck’s problem according to the doctor he saw. The only problem with that seemed to be that Chuck had already taken six lives… actually it may have been more than six, he said he’d lost count. 

Cloudy blue eyes stared up at her, unblinking, as she tried to determine the best course of action. 

“So let me get this straight,” Daphne began, exasperated. “Your first set of sacrifices failed so your grand idea is to go to the White House and try again?”

The doll nodded eagerly, and in his gruffer-than-usual tone he answered: “Yeah, see? You get it.” No, she really didn’t.

“Just like that, huh?” She asked sarcastically, her arms still crossed over her chest. “What makes you think it’ll even work? What if Damballa’s really pissed at you?” There was something more to her tone this time. It could almost be mistaken for tenderness. 

Daph was a changed woman, that much Chucky knew, but he had to wonder how much of his old flame still burned under her icy exterior. 

“He wants something big, Daph. What else is bigger than-”

“It’s delusional.” She cut him off. “Yeah, you could get away with it, but you’re asking me to go with you. I’ll get caught, then what? You keep going and I rot in jail? You get to discard me again like it’s nothin’?” 

So that’s what this was about.

“I have a plan.” Chucky muttered, and despite his epiphany he was still finding it hard not to be irritated with Daphne’s refusal. 

“Oh great! You have a plan!”

“Just get me there!” He finally shouted. The doll took a moment, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “And if you really don’t want to stick around you don’t have to.”

Daphne took a moment to think over his words. She still wasn’t sure if he was being honest, after all, it was really easy for him to say she can leave when she wants. Unfortunately for him, she knew Chuck like the back of her hand. Of course, several things had changed over the years clearly, and if he truly was dying…

He did go out of his way to find her. He clearly needed her help desperately. Part of her feared that abandonment, that familiar feeling that came with being used and disposed of. Maybe it would be different, given that he was a doll as of right now and the reason him leaving hurt so much the first time was because she felt he used her body and left her when it was convenient. Technically he was still using her body but in a completely different way - this was more like doing a friend a favor. 

Daphne’s emerald stare narrowed.

“And where’s Tiff in all this?” There it was. The doll grimaced. 

“That’s a long story.” 

“When’s it not?” Daphne scoffed. She listened intently as Chucky explained the last twenty-ish years. He went into detail, explaining how Tiffany found him after his dismembering, how she wanted him to marry her and how that absolutely wasn’t in the cards at the time. He talked about how he electrocuted her in the bathtub, then the soul transferring, and the cross country road trip that somehow ended with a knocked up doll and a surprise resurrection from their gender fluid kid. 

Somehow, Daphne felt herself growing jealous. 

It was a weird feeling that left her all kinds of confused, but when she thought of the last twenty years for herself she felt… hollow. She wanted to rekindle some sort of love, feel the same burning passion she felt with Chuck with someone else. The closest she had gotten was when she was the third in a throuple out in Santa Carla, which even that didn’t last. She didn’t like staying up all night and sleeping all day. 

Then of course there was Tess. 

“Anyway, she swapped bodies with Jennifer Tilly and took the kids, but then we got back together and she helped me terrorize the Pierce’s one last time. Shipped me right to their house. I ended up sending Sarah’s kid to the nuthouse and from there I possessed her.” He stopped for a second, his brow furrowing, forehead wrinkling. “Then that fuckin’ exorcism happened.”

Daphne was still taken back at the mention of Sarah Pierce. That was a name she hadn’t heard in a while, and man was she pissed when she heard about it the first time. He wasn’t even the one to tell her… it was Tiff. 

He shook his head. “Anyway, Tiff broke me outta the nuthouse and helped me build an army of, well, me. I said something, she got pissed off and took my head off, and well here we are. I haven’t spoken to her in a year or so. I did hold her at gunpoint when I was Nica not too long ago but that didn’t last long.” 

“Sounds about right.” Was all she could muster. That hollow feeling in her chest came back and weighed heavily on her. She felt the lump in her throat as her mind repeated the same thing over and over again: you will never be the first choice.

There was a part of her that fought it though, the more naive part of her mind that somehow survived through it all. He probably stuck around with her cause it was convenient, it said, she was the one to find him and bring him back. Daphne sighed. You made it hard to find you, remember?

She wanted to snap back at the invisible voice, to tell it that he didn’t even try before all this, but with the risk of looking insane and vulnerable in front of Chucky she chose not to.

They sat in silence while she pondered the possibilities, the logistics of it all, and she could feel his blue eyes on her even when she turned her back. Luckily she knew as long as she had her amulet there were no risks of her being killed and waking up in a doll like Tiff, and she missed Chucky as much as she hated to admit it… maybe a road trip would be fun? 

The strawberry blonde looked back at the doll. 

“Fine. I’ll take you.” She said finally, and a large smile broke out on the doll’s face. 

“Yes! I promise, doll, you won’t regret this.” He hopped off of the couch, standing at his full 3 foot height. “It’ll be just like old times, Daphne and Chucky.” 

⛋⛋⛋⛋⛋

She was being led somewhere downtown, her hand held tightly in the warm grip of her boyfriend as they made their way down sprawling sidewalks. She was in her cutest date outfit, face done up in dark makeup and platinum hair in two ponytails. Her large boots made it hard for her to keep up with him. 

It was fall, and in her short skirt she was freezing her ass off, but she’d never say anything. She wanted to look cute for him. 

Grey skies hung over their heads, making the tall buildings of Chicago look much darker than they usually did. It wasn’t like Eddie to take her out in the middle of the day, but he said he wanted to show her something. She had lied to her parents, saying she was going to the mall with Miranda, and she found the act of sneaking around like that thrilling. She only hoped Miranda wouldn’t call the house and spoil everything. 

He led her to an old apartment building, up a few flights of stairs, and to an old, splintered door. He knocked twice and waited for what felt like an eternity. There was a sound on the other side of the door like someone was undoing a few locks, and then they were greeted by the face of a woman with platinum blonde hair. It matched Daphne’s own hair. The woman’s dark eyes scanned over both of them, and just as Eddie went to step forward she slammed the door in his face. 

Daphne furrowed her brow in confusion, thinking maybe they were at the wrong apartment offhandedly as her eyes wandered from the door to the rundown halls of the building. The beige paint on the walls was peeling and the carpet they stood on was covered in stains. It looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in ages, and the bearding had been thinned so much it was almost down to the mat. Somewhere in the distance she could hear a baby crying. 

The woman reappeared with an irritated expression. 

“Eddie, get in here.” Her voice was high pitched and almost whisper-like, but Daphne could hear the annoyance in her tone. Eddie stepped forward, Daphne’s hand still tightly in his. The woman shook her head. “No, she stays outside.” 

The duo looked at each other, but all Eddie could do was shrug. 

“Sorry.” He said, letting go of her hand. “Gimme a second, ‘kay? I promise you won’t be out here all day.” And with that he disappeared behind the old door. 

Daphne suddenly felt all too exposed in that hallway. She had no idea where she was, or who was in the building, and there she was standing in front of this door which likewise had people she didn’t know inside. She figured these were friends of Eddie’s, but the way the woman looked at her, the way she wasn’t immediately let inside… it filled her with an uneasy feeling.

Years later she would look back on this moment and she would beg herself to leave - to listen to that feeling and get as far away as possible. There was a darkness behind that door and she knew all too well that it would swallow her if she stayed where she was.

But she did stay. 

After a few minutes she sighed and sat down beside the door, bringing her knees to her chest so she could rest her head. She was tired, a late night before all of this really wasn’t a great idea. She could see the chipped, black nail polish on her nails and began to absentmindedly pick at it, hoping she could remove a majority of it and repaint them later. 

A few more minutes ticked by slowly before Eddie peeked his head out from the doorway, looking down at her with that boyish charm that attracted her in the first place. “Hey Daph, you can come in now.”

She let him lead her through the door into the dimly lit apartment. The walls were a turquoise color with white trim that was turning an odd shade of yellow. The lamps in the living room gave off a soft orange hue that made the place seem a lot cozier than its tenants. Now she could see the woman in full, and she wore a simple black dress with a red, cropped leather jacket. She was standing beside a man with long, dark hair, and his back was turned to them.

“So, yeah, this is Daphne.” Daph gave a small, shy wave. Eddie turned back to her. “Daph, this is Tiffany and-” 

The man finally turned around, his blue eyes meeting Daphne’s green and suddenly she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. His hair was curly, and it spilled almost perfectly over his shoulders. He wore a plain, white t-shirt that was tucked neatly into his black slacks. She found herself taken by his sharp jawline and perfectly sculpted cheekbones. He walked over slowly, hands in his pockets. 

“This is Charles. He goes by Chucky now.” She wished she never met him - truly she did. Yet, that day she found herself swooning over him. He hardly said a word to her the entire time, merely watching her with intense eyes as she listened to Eddie and sometimes Tiffany. 

Charles sat across from her in an armchair, and beside him on the arm of the chair was Tiffany. Daphne, at first, found Tiffany to be nice enough. She was outgoing and complemented Daph’s outfit, and she seemed enthralled with Eddie’s story of how he met Daph. The younger woman couldn’t help but notice he left out her age. 

Sure, her birthday was in a few weeks, but that didn’t change the fact that she was seventeen now. 

Eddie stopped rambling for a moment, looking at an almost zoned out Charles. “You okay over there?” He asked finally, snapping the older man out of it. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Charles began, his voice gruff. It nearly sent shivers down Daphne’s spine. “I was just thinkin’ Daphne would look great with red hair.” 

Tiffany’s eyes lit up. 

“Wait, Chucky, you’re so right!” She exclaimed. She hopped onto her feet and traipsed over to Daphne, taking her blonde, curly locks into her hands. “I can dye this for you if you want.” 

Daphne never broke eye contact with Charles. There was a look in his eye, something unreadable. It looked like he was encouraging her to say yes. She stumbled over her words. 

“Y-yeah. Sure. I’d like that.” She ripped her gaze away from him and met eyes with Tiffany, smiling awkwardly at her. 

She had no idea what she was getting herself into. She wished she left the hallway when she had the chance.

[adamnablelittledevil]

@billy-royalton Sorry, but I couldn't reply to your question directly for some reason... Gotta go right now, so I typed this in a hurry, hope there aren't many typos and it's easy to understand! Xo 💗

Short Answer: Yes and yes. I've read all of the books, including the crossovers with the Mayfair Witches and New Tales of the Vampires (Pandora and Vittorio, the Vampire). Here's what I can tell you about these novels and how I feel about them…

Merrick: It is the most important book among the three. There are very important events regarding Louis and Claudia. The show has adapted some of that already (him walking into the sun on 2x05), but there might be more as soon as season 3 arrives. There's also a lot of Merrick and David on it, though I don't know if they will be written into the show or not (and if they do, I don't know how it will be). The writing for Merrick has a number of racial stereotypes, offensive lines and I don't know how accurate Anne's portrayal of candomble and voodoo was (based on what I know about umbanda, the only thing I know she got right was the name of certain deities). However, I believe Merrick is a great character, I fell in love with her and she's one of my favorites. Her family is a long line of witches and I was extremely intrigued by them. I understand why some people couldn't like the book, though. Because whether Anne meant it or not, it was indeed offensive. Still, I don't believe that ever ruined Merrick as a character or her personality. She was super likeable and compelling. My problem was more with the way David and Aaron acted and talked about her than her own behavior, if that makes sense. For me, the downside of this volume was having David's POV (he is one of the weakest narrators, I wish it was MERRICK's so I could see more of her or Lestat's), little Lestat and no Armand (I ALWAYS want to see him).

Blackwood Farm: The only main character on this one is Lestat and he doesn't appear as much. The story is mostly about this new character named Quinn (and to some extent, Mona Mayfair). I enjoyed it, and it was really creative, peculiar and dark in some aspects. His narration is O.K. There were some scenes here and there that were compelling. And there was a character who was intersex/gender-fluid and used multiple pronouns called Petronia that I really loved, even though they were… Well, complicated. I don't wanna spoil those stuff for you, but I could still empathize with them a lot, because they had such a tragic story that I believe explained a lot of their actions, just like how I feel about Armand and Lestat.

Blood Canticle: It is another book where only Lestat, Quinn and Mona show up. Quinn falls more to the back on this one, while Lestat, Mona and Rowan Mayfair are more present in the narrative. The plot didn't make a lot of sense for me and Rowan is probably the only female I never cared about, even if her story was appealing. Because the way I felt about her was close to how I felt about Louis on Merrick, like, you're a relevant character and big, dark, tragic things happened to you… But I just don't care. I did love Mona and Lestat entertained me because there was a lot of humor from him too. There are parts that he is rambling about becoming a saint and it's ridiculous and hilarious, it was very Lestat of him and I was laughing out loud late at night. I also enjoyed Lestat and Mona together, they had sort of a sibling-like rivalry and their childish bickering entertained me. There were times that Mona humbled him and I was shocked that she actually went there and threw certain stuff on his face. I was like, NO, YOU DIDN'T? OMG! And that girl is joining Lestat and Armand in the BPD squad, she might actually be worse than them. Lestat complaining about her had me like, sweetie, the call is coming from inside the house. So, it wasn't brilliant, some stuff were weird and nonsensical, but it was fun. This is also the only crossover I found a physical copy of, the others I read on my mobile so I can't talk about their length, but this one didn't even have 300 pages. It was a fast read for most of the time.

Conclusion? They aren't on my top 4, but I didn't struggle with them as I did with Memnoch the Devil or even Interview With the Vampire (I only liked Claudia and Armand on it), for that matter. I believe Merrick and Blackwood Farm are better than Blood Canticle, but it's hard to quantify and qualify the novels outside of my top 4 (TVA, TVL, Prince Lestat, TQOTD). Some might be better than others, but the difference isn't as huge as it is with those four, they're way above the rest (but I also love Vittorio and Pandora, people sleep on them, but they would be tied as my top 5). They didn't give me a lot of goosebumps and didn't leave a huge impact on me, but were mostly fine and some scenes, characters and dynamics were interesting. They're not necessary to read, though, except for maybe Merrick, so you can skip at least 2/3 and be fine… So just figure out what works for you and you'll be alright. Anyway, I hope this amount of information works for you and if you have any more questions, feel free to ask away!

[scarlet--wiccan]

This week’s voices unlimited issue seems like something you’d enjoy (Idk if you keep up with it).

I’d love to hear your thoughts on walpurgis but I don’t want to spoil anything

Oh, I absolutely loved it. Oliveira has proven himself as one of, if not the strongest writers on the Unlimited platform, and he usually has a really good approach to young adult and teen characters, so I'm looking forward to seeing where this new run is going.

For anyone who missed it, Oliveira is writing a new run of the Marvel's Voices Infinity Comic. Each installment features a different young hero who ends up being recruited, for unknown reasons, by an older established hero. Last week, it was Aaron Fischer and Captain Marvel, this week, it was Brielle Brooks and Doctor Voodoo. The issue opens with Brielle saving her friend Jayden from the Temple of the Shifting Sun-- a vampire cult that's obsessed with finding ways to cure their vampirism and/or become daywalkers, which, unfortunately, usually involves human sacrifice.

It turns out that Agatha Harkness recently became the Temple's leader, and the whole thing was an elaborate ruse to draw Brielle out of hiding so that Agatha could offer to tutor Brielle and help her expand her powers... which is an extremely Agatha stunt to pull. Fostering young supernatural talent-- and dictating their choices whenever possible-- is her favorite pastime, and she's very interesting in anything to do with the Darkhold these days, so it makes sense that she'd set her sights on a young half-vampire. Agatha leaves without much complaint when Brielle turns her down, but before she leaves, she gives Brielle a cute little purple kitten named Walpurgis!

Obviously, the stuff with Brielle and Jayden was great, and seeing Brielle link up with Jericho was really cool, too-- there's an immediate sense of solidarity between them, and they get some good digs in on white folks in the magic scene, like Agatha and Stephen. But there are were a lot of other cool details and continuity pulls that I want to highlight--

The Temple of the Shifting Sun first appeared in West Coast Avengers (2018), where they tried to sacrifice America Chavez for similar reasons. Kate Bishop's mother, Eleanor, is a vampire herself and was working with the Temple at that time. Eleanor's storyline was picked up in Voices Infinity #17, also by Oliveira.

According to Agatha, the Temple vampires worship the Demiurge. This is another instance where Earth's Demiurge is clearly being conflated with Billy Kaplan, which is a continuity error and, in my opinion, a really bad choice, but Oliveira seems to be committed to it. That said, at the time that WCA was written, there was a direct connection between Billy-as-Demiurge and America's mystical powers, so that is a clever through-line.

This is honestly some of the best writing Agatha's had in years, probably since before Midnight Suns. She feels more in-character than she did in Contest of Chaos, or even in that Hulkling & Wiccan series. It also re-established that she's centuries old and has had many names, which I thought was neat.

I'm very curious about Walpurgis the cat. First of all, I was just happy to see Ebony again, and I love the idea of her having a litter of magic kittens, but Walpurgis is suspiciously... purple. It might just be to match Brielle's hair, but purple is also Agatha's signature color, and I wonder if she created and/or enchanted the cat to spy on Brielle and Jericho.

Agatha's going to be the antagonist in the Strange Academy tie-in for Blood Hunt, so this might be an early prelude to that. Vampires and witches and headmasters!

[echoing-hearts-hazbin]

Hello there, fans! This is the profile of a famous (trying to be famous) performer in Pentagram City! Let's rock!

~~~~~

Name: Jean Yale (real name, prefers to not be called that, unless she deeply trusts you)

Other names: Echo Hearts (Stage name), Echo (her preferred name to be referred as)

Gender: Female

VA headcanon: Ibuki Mioda (Danganronpa)

Bio: When she was a human, her parents pressured her to become the perfect daughter. She was forced to achieve straight As, study instead of going out with friends, etc. She barely had time to be herself, wanting to become an idol. She was killed by being run over by a car on her way to university. She arrived in Heaven and thought she might be able to experiment with new things and find her new potential. However, things were too strict for her (but that was secretly a lie she told most). It felt like being alive with her helicopter parents again. Adam and his behavior didn't help the situation. She had enough and ran away from Heaven and ended up in Hell. Arriving in Pentagram City, she saw there were no restrictions. She found her new home at last. She did a makeover on her look. From innocent girl (left pic) to punk idol (right pic). She still has her wings, but they are black, and she hides them.

((To find out the REAL reason why she left, interact with her more.))

Likes: metal/rock/punk music, anime, lollipops (loves strawberry and cherry a lot), pocky, haunted places, chocolate

Dislikes: abusive jerks, Adam (because of him spilling the beans), too many rules (some are okay, but too many is way too much for her), Valentino (he would not stop flirting with her!)

Extra facts:

She speaks Japanese well. She made songs in Japanese. She loves anime.

When it comes to alcohol, Echo loves trying out new ones: sweet, hard, anything as long as she gets to be drunk later.

She is awed at the rumors of the radio tower, said to contain screaming souls. She's not really scared. She admires it.

Da Rules~

More information about oc stuff