#squabble up is a bop

[eden-transcendental-youth]

new kendrick album good btw

[jenjenthevirgo]

If this ain’t me—

Me every time I listen to squabble up.

[pseudowho]

Fairs and carnivals were made for the winter, you felt; and the winter, made for them. Your friends had long-since abandoned you for the promise of an early night. Their company had been replaced with the sweetsmoke smells of toasting marshmallows, steaming stalls of culinary delights, and the tangled maelstrom of those in coats and scarves and gloves and hats.

Still, their presence was fleeting. A sting of loneliness followed in their wake.

You jingled your pocket; just a pair of coins left. You looked around you, and, hearing two bickering voices, you slowed to a halt beside the bumper cars. Two tall men argued; one (very tall, white-haired) was winning, while the other (not quite as tall, blond and scowling) was giving in simply for peace and quiet.

You stifled a laugh. You traded your final two pennies for violence. You bopped on your heels in the queue behind the two squabbling men. One of them, and one particularly iridescent bumper car, caught your eye. Your scowling man looked iridescent, too, lit up in carnival lights.

You didn't know what it was, as you settled into your bumper car seat, that set you on the path to mischief. You didn't know if it was the lights and laughter and lingering frost. You didn't know if it was the cinnamon churros that still warmed your belly. You didn't know if it was the hand-worn cool plastic steering wheel beneath your palms.

But you glanced at your scowling man, who appeared to be performing a 12-point safety check on his blue and yellow bumper car. Another giggle burst over. And, as much as you loathed yourself for it, you felt the need to show your affection in the only way you could.

So, like a little girl pushing a little boy into the mud, rather than tell him that she liked him, you chose violence. The bumper cars electrified. The air-horn sounded. The disco music began. You slammed the accelerator down.

BAM!

You slammed into the blue and yellow car in front of you. Your scowling blond looked up at you in pearl-clutching affront, his glasses thrown skew-wiff by your assault. You reversed, biting your lip. You caught his eye. His hands gripped, white-knuckled on the steering wheel...but he scoffed at you. A mockery. A blunt-bladed outrage. A dare. That was his downfall.

BAM!

Your second hit sent him careening, and your laughter ghosted in his ears as you were chased away by the other bumper cars on your mad circuit. The game was afoot.

You targeted him relentlessly. At first he cursed, and swore, and glared at you. But as the music went on, and his neat parting scruffed, throwing forward commas of blond with his scarf trailing after him, he might have smiled.

You were sure you saw one pass you, as he sent you spinning away. Perhaps it was the way your laughter caught on his jacket. Perhaps the violence was contagious; perhaps he pulled your pigtails, or flicked paper balls at you in class. Perhaps, instead, he found you crying in the library, with that same gentle smile and a book for two.

Hitting each other head-on in the eleventh hour of your tokens' time, you squealed, jolting forwards in your seat. Your cheeks ached with joy. He panted, his chest heaving, his smile lopsided and rueful. You both stayed that way, eye to eye, the music and the lights and the laughter fading away around you both, until--

BAM! BAM!

You were each hit on the flank, shunted in opposite directions and lost in the blitz. The air-horn sounded; the game was over. And, by the time the blond man stood, his head whipping from side to side, you were gone.

His smile faded. His whiskey-brown eyes flickered, an aurora in the carnival lights. He stood, alone and deflating, in a crossing field of bumper cars.

An hour passed before you could bear to leave the lights behind. You leaned against a stall, sighing as your penny-free pockets denied you a hot chocolate to walk home with. A voice sounded to your right, and you jumped with a squeak.

"Assaulting a stranger must be thirsty work. I'll buy you a drink."

A velveteen voice. An offer that would only be insistent if you did not roundly refuse him; if you did roundly refuse him, you knew, innately, that you would be safe to do so. He would not take it as a slight.

"I should be buying you a drink."

"Nonsense. You won."

"Does one really win bumper cars?"

"I didn't think so. And yet, you did."

"I still couldn't possibly--"

"You buy the next one."

Your heart faltered. You leaned back on the stall, biting your lip, your head tilted to the side. He was handsome; beautiful, really.

But in truth, it was his simmering, unbridled rage that had drawn you in. It was his scowl, that made you be mean to him in the playground. An immature excuse, you knew. You whispered, barely audible in the fading music of the fair. You felt the first flakes of snow kiss upon your lips.

"What's your name?"

"Nanami Kento."

"I would love a drink, Nanami Kento. But if you want the next one, you'll have to walk me home, because I've spent all my allowance this evening."

A chuckle, rich and deep. The man named Nanami Kento turned to look at the carnival lights, and found he could bear to leave them behind, if it were with you.

"It does feel a bit that way, doesn't it?" Kento mused aloud, setting his last handful of coins on the counter, and receiving two cups of childhood in return. You bit the fingers of your gloves to receive your paper cup with bare palms.

His eyes glimmered down at you. He offered his arm.

"How long is the walk?"

"Not long. Twenty minutes, maybe."

"Good. I was worried that if I didn't have time to finish this one, you wouldn't invite me in for the second."

[bangaveragewhitewine]

⋆⁺₊❅ the snow ball

teacher!Steve Harrington x teacher!Reader 

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: My second fic for @littlexdeaths The Twelve Days of Promptmas takes us back to 1996. At the annual Snow Ball Dance, Girl Power is supreme and the English teacher is standing very close to Mr H… 

Content: The tension is high. 90’s nostalgia, teacher puns and passing notes. Redefinition of the word nemesis, now to be read as ‘that one colleague you have a lethal crush on’ (the girls who get it, get it)

✨bang average festive fics✨ Steve Harrington masterlist ✨

December 1996

The opening bars of Wannabe are cut by the sound of thirty-odd teenage girls squealing with excitement as they crowd onto the dancefloor in threes and fours. The too-cool-to-dance girls bop and bounce their heads, the popular girls perform like they are at home in their bedroom mirrors or the Superbowl Half-Time Show. Geeky and quiet girls sparkle joyfully under the disco ball, any lack of confidence forgotten by utter glee. Girl Power reigns supreme over Meadow Hill Middle School as the world-ending pettiness and hormonal squabbles of thirteen and fourteen-year-olds are soothed and solved by the bouncy vocals and practiced choreography. 

You watch the boys stand and stare from the sidelines, buoying each other up as they whisper about who they might ask to dance with later and playing down their nerves. You have seen first love and first heartbreak tonight, watching Andi Cooper sway with Brian W to Always Be My Baby as Danny D looked on with tears in his eyes. Poor kid. 

“D’you think they’ll riot if Just A Girl comes on next?”

Your head tilts back against the streamer-covered wall behind you and you can’t help a little smirk at the thought of Female Revolution fuelled by Gwen Stefani and the Spice Girls. 

“Mm, imagine the headlines. Ballroom Blitz - Meadow Hill reduced to ruins by festive female rage.”

He laughs and places a cup of punch into your hand, keeping an appropriate distance between your bodies as you survey the Snow Ball in full swing. 

“And that’s why you’re the English teacher. Such a way with words.” 

“Mm, nice use of sarcasm, Mr Harrington. Gold star.” 

The punch is not spiked, but your words sound a little barbed to the unfamiliar ear. All part of the fun. 

Speaking of the punch, there’s a hipflask in his jacket, full of some strong spirit that he will share with you once the kids have been picked up, while the DJ is packing away his kit. 

“Thanks, you’ve taught me well...” 

You look up, meeting his cocoa-coloured eyes, caught staring. His tone is less barbed, more sincere, and when he says your name - your teacher name - you feel fizzy and warm all over. 

Steve feels it too, a swirling spiralling drag low in his gut. 

It’s fleeting, too quick and far too much for where you are. Too heavy for a gym that smells like sweat masked by Tommy Girl & Victoria's Secret body spray, and looks like an explosion of blue and silver and glitter, festooned with polystyrene snowflakes.

You’re the first to look away, breaking his stare to make sure that revolution is not in fact being stirred up by girls in sparkly dresses and frosted lipgloss. 

Across the dancefloor, you watch Coach Farrell mouthing along the words as he keeps an eye on the aforementioned untainted punch. A perfect distraction from that moment of too much.

“Look at Farrell. Be subtle.”

Steve can just about hear your voice over the scream-singing and chances a glance at the veteran of Physical Education.

“Maybe he’s mellowing.” There’s the sarcasm again. He sips his punch and murmurs, “Asshole.” 

Your shoulders shake with laughter as Wannabe reaches its peak. You are more tickled by Steve’s candour than the spectacle of it all. So here’s the story from A to Z… Neither of you is immune to its catchiness as you watch your students create core memories.

If you wanna be my lover…

You catch each other’s eye again as the proclamation of Girl Power bleeds out. Your face feels hot, the fluttering feeling returns. 

Steve is the one to break it this time, sipping his punch to cool down what is threatening to boil over. 

It’s not just tonight, not simply because he looks hot in his navy blazer and slacks with his stupidly perfect hair. Not only because he helped you re-stick the streamers that had started to sag and fall before the night even began. Not because you caught him looking at the way navy velvet hugged your body, or because he told you looked ‘a million bucks’. 

This has been simmering for two years since he walked into the teacher’s lounge full of confidence and charm, sent searching for you by the administrator who promised the new History teacher that you would show him around. Two years of teaching next door to each other, pretending to be competitive about how your homeroom performed in the Readathon, using the playful rivalry to feature ‘nemesis’ as your word of the week with a picture of Mr H pinned to the board. 

Two years of sharing gossip and frustrations about the district and asshole parents over teacher’s lounge coffee and ungraded papers. Coming in early and staying late to help each other decorate your classrooms for the holidays, just because. Two years of pretending you were not stoking the fire of a crush bigger than the sun, and brushing off teasing questions from students and teachers alike. 

You were just friends, but it stung when you overheard he had a date planned for the weekend. You were just friends, but when you saw his arm around a pretty blonde at a bar one Friday night, you headed home early and hoped he had not seen you. You were just friends but you understood again why teens and poets were so dramatic about matters of the heart. 

You tried to close yourself off, became spiky and quiet to protect yourself from inevitable heartbreak. But Steve was persistent. When you stood him up for coffee for the third time, he delivered it to your desk with a homemade maple pecan muffin with ‘Drink Me’ and ‘Eat Me’ tags as a nod to your seventh graders' reading assignment for the term. 

You let your friends set you up on dates with colleagues and cousins and made yourself unavailable. You found it harder and harder to pretend not to want to spend your shared-free periods shooting the shit with him. To see him looking a little bit lost without his work bestie for company, even when he fit in just fine with the other teachers.

So you gave in. 

You had seen first-hand how crushes ruin friendships; you saw it every day in your classroom and the hallways. You were too old for that and felt like a fraud standing at the top of your classroom teaching kids how to identify themes and literary devices and formulate an objective summary of a text while you were stuck on how Steve's hair looked today and the way he smiled at you in the parking lot.

You could get over yourself, choke down your feelings and mask the bitterness with his baked treats and teacher’s lounge coffee.

The olive branch came in the form of a mug festooned with the face of Abraham Lincoln and the words ‘That’s so four score and seven years ago’. There was also a whole box of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies to sweeten the deal. 

His smile was brighter than the sun and his laugh echoed around the empty classroom. Friends again.

Things went back to normal but your crush could not be overcome. It only got worse as Steve became more charming, opened more doors for you and opened up a little more when you graded papers together. You found it easy to open up to him too. The simmering of something more than friends was threatening to bubble up and boil over.

This afternoon, you found a gift on your desk. Beneath blue and white snowflake patterned paper was a mug. 

‘Though she be but little she is fierce.’ 

Inside the mug was a note in Steve’s handwriting. 

Will you dance with me at the Snow Ball tonight? Yes / No. 

The note feels like it is burning your skin, tucked beneath your bra strap. He has been playing it supremely cool all night - you would expect nothing less from Mr Harrington - but you have caught him staring all evening, fleeting glances that the kids are too excited and distracted to see.

Wannabe is followed by the Macarena. You both watch on as the boys standing around the edges of the gym are herded onto the floor by Mrs Willis, who has hogged the mic and insists that ‘everyone knows this one!’

Shared laughter is smothered and hidden by cups of untainted punch, and it’s only a matter of time before both of you are pulled onto the dancefloor to join in. 

Over the music and Mrs Willis’s encouragement, you hear him mutter “Not what I had in mind,” as you fall in step with the student body who are totally mortified that their teachers are dancing.

You both endure almost four minutes of in-sync choreography before the DJ pulls the plug and transitions into All I Want For Christmas and you are free to shuffle to the sidelines again, side by side against the streamers.

The myrrh and amber notes of Steve’s cologne tickle your nose as you stand close. 

You have to do it now. 

Before you can chicken out, you quickly slide the note from its hiding place and into the pocket of his blazer and pray that no one saw. 

“I love the mug. Thank you.”

His eyes light up with more than the reflections of the silver streamers and his fingers wrap around the body-warm slip of paper. 

“Yeah? You’re welcome, I thought it suited you. And, y’know. Shakespeare.”

Steve’s back to playing cool, but beneath the surface the bubbles fizz and rise and the butterflies flap their wings. You can see it, feel it too. 

“And,” he continues, “I’ve seen you in action at those district meetings so ‘fierce’ felt appropriate. And I’m taller than you so…” 

His lips curve into a smile as you roll your eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, big guy. I can still change my answer on that note…” 

Mirth and mischief are replaced by relief, pure joy and a little hint of a scowl. 

“I’ll play nice. Promise.”

There’s an unspoken, “Will you?”

“I’ll play nice too. Just don’t step on my tiny girl-feet.”

Another look that is both too much and just right is held between you for just a few moments. 

“Find me later, Mr. Harrington.” 

Steve watches you swish away, swathed in deep blue velvet and your dancing shoes. 

Later on, when the hall is clear of students and chaperones, when the hipflask has been opened and shared, he will spin you under his arm and watch you glitter beneath the disco ball.

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading - I hope you enjoyed!! Comments, reblogs and likes are loved, adored and stored in my heart!

[l1v1ngd3dgrrl]

Tulpar crew: Least to most likely to have an Alternative (Goth) Partner. [HC's]

AN: No one asked for this, this is purely my thoughts alone. (And yes when i said all I mean ALL...Minus Polle duh.) Please behave yourselves I'm BEGGING you

CW(S): Slight UNINTENTIONAL fetishization of Goth women (it's brief and no it's not Jimmy's doing. It's a reference to a meme, it'll make sense when you read it.)

MDNI banner: cafekitsune

Curly [Least]

I can hear your gasps behind the screen (I'm sorry!)

He doesn't mean it maliciously! I feel like he wouldn't like..Actively seek out a goth BUT he would date (and or marry) one if the chance presents itself.

doesn't really get the fashion aspect, but does like some bands (I can see him liking some of The Cure)

Swansea

Have zero clue when this man was born, or when Mouthwashing takes place. All I know is he's old (not like super old but old y'know)

..I don't think he's ever met a goth? Maybe like once and they were someone younger than him.

Finds the more 'traditional' goth looks annoying in a sense. Whaddya mean you did all that for some fashion?

Another person I can see liking very few goth bands..maybe a song or two. He can't tell you the name of the songs or what bands it is, but if you put on a song that he likes he'll kind of bop his head to it.

Daisuke

Honestly It's hard to pin point his type, based on in game dialogue he likes hot women (who doesn't) and since ones definition of hot varies who knows what he's into.

now me personally... I see him as a straight man BUT for the sake of this list he plays for all teams m'kay?

Similar to Curly I don't think he actively seeks out Goths, but if you two get along and you happen to be goth then yeah.

Would be the type to post "Need me a big tiddy goth gf" as a JOKE, he's joking i swear guys pLEASE. (you cannot tell me that he wouldn't have some stupid shitpost account on instagram or something.)

If it upset you he's taking it down and apologizing over and over and over.

If you think it's funny it becomes a joke between you two.

He canonically likes thrifting so he'd be down to help you find new pieces for your wardrobe (we love a supportive man)

Jimmy

Hear me out-

He does kind of view you as like an accessory, or like a trophy. if you don't dress 'goth' all the time he will view you as fake and not 'goth enough.'

HOWEVER, I do see him having some base knowledge about Alternative subcultures. (I saw a headcannon from curly-my-beloved and that's what made me think about putting him here)

During his high school years he probably considered himself Punk or something. Maybe had one Goth gf that dumped him in a really really messy breakup.

Unironically He would be the fucker to see someone wearing a band shirt and go "name 3 songs" or give you a pop quiz about the band, and call you a poser or fake fan.

I can see him liking some Type o negative, but he strikes me as a metal guy. Metallica/ Rob Zombie maybe? (Every man I've had the misfortune of crossing paths with who was obsessed with either have been the most insufferable dickheads to walk this earth. don't get me started ughh.)

Anya

Firm believer that Anya is one of those goths who doesn't dress goth at all, but her entire playlist says otherwise.

Once in a blue moon she'll get all gothed up but with how busy she is with work and med school she doesn't have time for it.

I can totally see her being the most likely to have a goth partner.

You two share music recommendations often, and sometimes you get into squabbles about what band is considered goth or not. (with love of course)

she KNOWSS her subculture history. Ask her any question about the subculture and she's gonna give you a whole presentation on it.

[dreadsuitsamus]

Bleach Men Taking Your Baby to the Grocery Store Headcanons

author's note: yes the premise is random but it's also very cute and perfectly in line with my recent onslaught of baby fever. also, the banners in this post were created by the always amazing @actuallysaiyan!! thank you for the gorgeous banners, babe! 🩷🩷🩷

pairings: kensei muguruma x reader, byakuya kuchiki x reader, grimmjow jaegerjaquez x reader, renji abarai x reader, ichigo kurosaki x reader

warnings: children ages 5 and younger and grimmjow's parenting lmao this is mostly fluff and some mischief mixed in from the babies

Kensei is definitely the tough parent of the two of you, and he relishes in that fact

But goddammit do those baby eyes make him waver

As he carries little Mila into the store, he tells her they're only there for necessities

No candy, no sugary cereals, only what you've tasked him to buy for dinner

Despite being only three and a half, however, Mila has a pretty good idea of how to get her way with Kensei

It's gotten slightly less effective since the pacifiers have been removed from her arsenal, but anything that cracks her dad's tough exterior is remarkable as is

It starts off innocently enough, though soon the way she sings her little song and bops her head around becomes rife with intent

"Daddy, can has hug?" She blinks up at him, holding her arms up

Either he's willfully choosing to fall into the trap, or Kensei is merely blind in the face of his precious girl

"Of course, baby." Kensei picks her up from the cart and kisses her wonderfully chubby cheek, leading the cart behind him as he continues through the store with Mila hooked on his hip

Mila curls up, humming as her eyes scan the shelves for something she wants

"Hold Momma's list for Daddy, okay?"

Mila's little fingers hold the list carefully, and soon Kensei is at a crossroad

"Broth. What kind of broth?" He mutters, fishing his cell phone from his pocket to call you

As usual, it turns into a bit of a squabbling match. He thinks remembering every little detail is silly, and you think you've made this dish so many times he should know you need chicken broth

Kensei is sufficiently annoyed by the time the phone call ends, and Mila strikes then

"Daddy, can has kiss?"

"Yes, baby." She gets a kiss on either cheek, and the kiss she gives his cheek right back is just about the final nail in the coffin

With Kensei holding her, she's able to reach the shelf and snag a little box of animal crackers

"Daddy, can has this?"

Played by the fucking toddler again!! That's three times this week!

"... Don't tell your brothers." Kensei sighs, hanging his head in shame

It's not all bad though; he does get another sweet kiss from his princess

Byakuya is a strict but ultimately fair father

Little Jasmine has grown up under his watchful eye, though through that she's certainly learned just how many of his limits she can press and how to get around them

Going to the grocery store is rare, and even more so if you're not present for the journey

But it's vacation time, and you're busy setting up the cabin for your family's stay, so Byakuya has been tasked with gathering enough groceries to make it through dinner and the morning's breakfast

Byakuya holds Jasmine’s hand and they walk inside together, Byakuya using a tissue to pick up one of the small hand baskets. There's no telling the last time this thing has been sanitized!

“What would you like for dinner tonight?” Byakuya asks the five year old, and Jasmine hums thoughtfully

How can she end the first day of this vacation with a delicious banana split?

Appealing to her father's tastes will increase the likelihood of success, and her father is quite fond of spicy foods…

“Can we have curry?”

The light in his eyes isn't missed by the girl, and she can practically taste an ice cream sundae with a waffle bowl already

“You're becoming more accustomed to spices, I see.” Byakuya hums and begins to survey the store's offerings, whereas Jasmine is mentally preparing her list for dessert

“Daddy?” Jasmine dials up the sweetness in her tone while Byakuya examines the various cuts of chicken on display

“Yes?” He hums

“Can we have a treat tonight?”

“What sort of treat?”

“A surprise treat. Please, Daddy?”

Byakuya pauses. He's no fan of sweets, and in general sugar is limited in the Kuchiki household

But she did say please

“Mm… I suppose.”

Byakuya doesn't meet your eyes when he and Jasmine return from the store with more ingredients for ice cream sundaes than dinner and breakfast combined

He is such a sucker, but he's happy to be played when he receives his banana split with a chocolate syrup drawing of his beloved Wakame Taishi from his darling daughter

Renji tries his best to be a strict father, but his determination wavers frequently. He wanted for many things as a child, and as a parent he doesn't wish to push that same feeling on his child as long as he's capable of providing a warm, loving home

Not to mention, that damn two year is old is just so cute it makes his heart melt at the mere sight of the toddler

“C’mon, honey, gotta get some soup for Mommy.” Renji murmurs as he carefully takes little Rin from his car seat, carrying him into the store on his hip

“Why?” is Rin’s favorite question right now, and Renji’s eye twitches a bit

“Because her tummy is upset.”

“Why?”

“... I don't know.”

“Why?”

“I don't know!”

“Why?”

Renji gently pinches his son's lips between his fingers. “Shhh… Quiet time.”

But of course, the moment he lets go, Rin is back at it again

“Why?”

“Because now Daddy has a headache.”

Rin, as gently as he can while simultaneously not managing much grace in the act, pats his father's sunglasses that sit atop his head

“All bedder?”

Renji's lip practically wobbles at the sweetness. “Yes, Daddy's all better. Thank you, sweetie.”

Rin rests his head against his father, playing with the Renji’s chain while he surveys all of the varieties of soup, Renji occasionally pulling the chain away from the baby's open mouth

Rin whines after his third attempt to eat the necklace, so Renji quickly grabs the first can of chicken noodle soup he sees and makes a dash for the checkout. No baby meltdowns in public, for the love of God

Renji gently bounces the baby, pleading softly with him to calm down. It's not working very well, however, and these damn checkout lines aren't moving at all!

Desperation wins and Renji's grabbing a lollipop before he knows it, tearing the wrapping off and popping the sucker into Rin’s teeny mouth

His plan to calm the baby works, and by the time he's actually able to check out and purchase the soup, the small pop is already gone and the tantrum is starting to blossom again

And just as Renji gets the baby strapped back into his carseat, he checks his phone to see a text you sent twenty minutes ago that practically sends his eyes popping out of his skull

Can you pick up a pregnancy test too?

He glances over at the toddler, and can practically see the boy as a big brother already

Even with a fussy baby in round two of the long lines, Renji's smile doesn't waver and he just kisses and coos at the hopefully soon-to-be big brother

Grimmjow is an interesting parent. Much like how every day with a four year old is a mystery, every day with Grimmjow is a deep dive into the unknown

So when sending the man and his mini-me to the grocery store, you're not quite sure what they're going to come home with. Hopefully it at least includes the items on the list, otherwise dinner is going to be very different from what you've planned

“Oi, keep up!” Grimm looks over his shoulder, the four year old having been distracted by a vending machine

“Want snack.”

“Too bad. Let's go.”

The toddler’s stare is a little too lead paint-y for Grimmjow's liking

“Zen.” Grimmjow looks on, unimpressed as he fishes a coin from his pocket. “Fine, brat. You win, you get a snack. I win, I get a snack.”

That gets the boy to smile, clapping his hands as he jumps in excitement

Grimmjow smirks. “Heads I win, tails you lose.”

The coin is flipped off of Grimmjow's thumb and he catches it easily, Zen waiting with bated breath for the results. Does Daddy win or does he lose??

Grimm sucks his teeth, shaking his head and tucking the quarter back into his pocket. “Heads I win. Tough luck, kid. Maybe next time.”

Zen pouts, watching his father slip a dollar into the vending machine and press the buttons for a honey bun. “Aw man…”

“C’mon.” Grimmjow opens up the snack, taking a big bite and grabbing the front of Zen’s coat, carrying him inside of the store like a handbag

The boy can't help but giggle as he looks up at his father; he loves air jail!

“You're in jail. Stop laughing, fuckin’ psycho.” Grimm shakes his son a bit, hiding his own laughter into the next bite of his honey bun. He's a hardass, but that baby's laugh is precious and melts him like ice cream on a sunny day

Heads turn at the way Grimmjow carries Zen, but Grimm is highly unbothered by such judgment. His kid is happy and healthy, and anyone that thinks otherwise can kiss his ass, for all he cares

“You got the list?” Grimm looks down at Zen, the boy fishing out the neatly-folded post-it note you lovingly tucked into his jacket pocket

Grimmjow perks a brow as he reads off the ingredients you've listed. “Say, kid—” he looks down at his son. “Whaddya say we ditch the list and get some pizza instead?”

Zen claps happily at the idea and Grimm grins menacingly, crushing up the grocery list and tossing it on the floor as he hoists his boy over his shoulder, stuffing the last bite of the honey bun in his baby's mouth whilst flipping off a scandalized woman at the checkouts

Growing up with two younger sisters was good for something after all, Ichigo thinks as he wrangles his twin girls through the parking lot with relative ease

The three year olds are stubborn and independent, having insisted they walk instead of having daddy carry them! But they still want to hold his hands, of course

why no he is not melting like a lava cake, why do you ask?

The girls gasp at the sight of a shopping cart with a racecar on the end that's the perfect size for two little ones!

“We don't even need a cart.” Ichigo deadpans, though it's in one ear and out the other as the babies pile into the little racecar, turning the steering wheels and beeping the (thankfully noiseless) horns

He feels like an idiot but as the dutiful father he is, Ichigo complies with his girls’ wishes and pushes the cart into the store

Chubby fingers point as little voices call out for candies and trinkets, and Ichigo's quick with each of his responses

“No.”

“I said no.”

“No ma'am!”

He's definitely cleaning their ears out when they get home, because clearly they can't hear him! Why else would they ask for things a million times over, hm?

“Daddy always say no.” Indigo pouts, her sister nodding in agreement. All they want is some candy!! Why is Daddy so mean?

Ichigo sighs in frustration as the aisle he needs to go down is absolutely packed, and he's stuck with this behemoth of a shopping cart. Settling it at the end of the aisle, he kneels down to make eye contact with the girls

“Stay put; I’ll be right back.”

Ichigo quickly rushes down the aisle, weaving between people to get to the pasta section

Now… If only he could remember what shape of pasta you told him to buy

Indigo and Imani look at each other, covering their mouths to hide their mischievous giggles

Those Push Pops they were eyeing are still nearby, and Daddy isn't!

As the tag team they are, Indigo and Imani spring into action, Indigo rushing to get the candy while Imani (who turns up the cuteness to a ten!) rushes down the aisle to her father

Ichigo frowns and picks up Imani, scolding her for leaving the cart

It isn't exactly effective, however, as the baby eyes and the cooing let her off the hook easily

When they get back to the cart after Ichigo remembers which pasta you've requested, he sets Imani back into the racecar

Indigo slips a blue Push Pop into her twin's hand, the two of them sharing a conspiratorial smile

They almost get away with it too, though when Ichigo's strapping them into their car seats he notices the lollipops

“Stop stealing!!!!”

These girls will surely be the reason he takes medication for his blood pressure, and he dreads the day when they become teenagers!

[risewriter]

ROTTMNT: Animal Crossing

Mikey: *Watering plants* You get some water, and you get some water, and yooou.~ *Gets interrupted by squabbling*

Donnie: Leo, stop hitting me with the axe! *Holds up his phone* I'm trying to take pictures.

Leo: *Holding the axe up, ready to bop Donnie again* No can do, hermano! I'm just too axe-cited to see you!

Donnie: *Takes out his own axe* That's it, I'm axe-ing you too!

Mikey: *Sighs* Raph, can you do something?

Raph: Hmmph? *He distractedly chews on a pie pastry*

D&L: *Runs over the flowers, making them poof*

Mikey: ....

Donnie: Uh.

Leo: Whoops?

Mikey: *takes out his own axe, expression dark*

[wing-ed-thing]

Liability (Eustass Kid x Hover-Hover!Reader)

Synopsis: With their sights on taking down the Kid Pirates, a small-time band of pirates plan to use Kid's temporary handicap after hearing a piece of intel.

Word Count: 1k

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, One Piece Physics, Comedy, Slice of Life

Notes: I've had this little scene bopping around by head for quite a bit now

It appeared that all the rumors were true. Eustass Kid seemed to be impeded from using his devil fruit capabilities indefinitely in battle, and for what?

You floated over his shoulder, wavering almost awkwardly in the air as you bickered with your captain. Your fist rested on your hip, and your other hand gestured rudely in Kid’s face. You paid no mind to the odd, slightly diagonal angle at which you were hovering. At the distance the pirates watched you, they couldn’t make out a word you gruffed, not that it mattered. 

Your onlookers were oblivious to your petty squabble, their attention captivated by an unfolding revelation. The rumors were true. You had indeed recently consumed the Hover-Hover fruit, and like many new devil fruit holders, your control over these unfamiliar powers was shakey at best. You didn’t even bother to hide the magnetic bar strapped to your clothes, a crude attempt to anchor yourself. 

The pirates heard that Kid had been using his abilities to prevent his crewmate from floating into infinity, but the claim had been so ridiculous they hadn’t thought it was true. The solution, after all, was, well, stupid. Surely, a pirate with a bounty like Kid’s couldn’t afford to let his guard down in a way as drastic as permanently occupying his power. 

It had been an oversight made out of an uncharacteristic gesture of care for his crewmate, and now Kid would pay dearly for his sorry attempt at problem-solving. The small-time pirates took their opportunity.

They emerged from their hiding places, taking up their arms to surround the two of you. The town square immediately exploded into a panic at the sight of swords and guns, but even amongst the chaos, you and Kid remained calm and still, if not acutely annoyed. Kid’s face showed it more than yours did, the corners of his mouth dipping into a severe scowl. 

You struggled to contort your body to see behind you, to no avail. Your magnet sat perfectly pointed toward Kid. It felt as though he was anchoring you himself. His magnetic pull held a familiar aura, and every subtle push and pull was a reminder of his presence—not that that loudmouth needed to remind you he was there.

“About time you showed yourselves,” Kid scoffed. He glanced around at the empty square. Civilians and merchants alike had vacated the area completely, leaving behind abandoned stalls and baskets of groceries. All that was left were you and Kid in the middle of the surrounding pirates. He glanced up at you with a dismayed gesture of his hand. “I told you we shoulda taken ‘em out while we had the chance!”

“You just love any excuse to make a scene.” Your nose scrunched up in disgust as you gripped tightly onto the handles of the bags in your hands. You stared down at Kid, not liking the look that was beginning to develop on his face. You shook your groceries in annoyance. “We had one job—”

“And we’ve done that.” Kid’s deep frown was starting to form into a wide grin. He pressed a fist into his opposite palm, his head tilting to the side as his hand and neck bones cracked in unison. “But what’s crackin’ together a few skulls on our way back?” Kid glanced back up at you, smile faltering. “Put those on the ground or something.” 

“Maybe you want to eat dinner off the ground, but I sure as hell don’t.”

“Give them to me then.”

“Like hell!” 

The surrounding pirates exchanged looks, their original vigor fading as your argument carried on. They assumed that you and Kid would be caught off guard, intimidated by the fact that you were cornered with inhibited devil fruit abilities. With you not having any control over your floating powers and Kid’s ability constantly in use to keep you close to the ground, you should have begun to sweat at least a bit. 

Instead, in the singular moment that the pirates took their attention off of you, Kid had taken ahold of your shopping. He held his opposite arm out in a broad and curved angle. You planted your boots in the center of his palm; your entire body scrunched in on itself with your knees to your chest. You floated almost horizontally.

The metal flew straight for you, completely drawfing your form in a mass of blades and mechanical parts.

That singular word, the one the pirates didn’t think they would hear, made them retreat on the spot. Their swords and guns sailed through the air toward you, and the pirates let them go willingly, knowing that the battle would be hopeless. The handicap they’d perceived was the one thing that gave them confidence that they could take Kid down once and for all. That thought was long gone, especially if Kid was willing to sacrifice his crewmate just to disarm them. 

“Repel!” 

The captain of the band of pirates was struck with a mass of metal and run clean through, and only when he fell did the others recognize that the mass was not simply a random assortment of weaponry but a reforged suit of armor. It was crude but far more than a simple pile of blades and bullets. It covered you from head to toe as your feet returned to Kid’s palm. 

“Running away already?” Kid cackled, gearing up to throw you again. Your captain met your eye, brows falling harshly over his lidded eyes. “You shouldn’t have talked me out of it. Now look at what happened. I want no survivors.” 

You nodded, tightening your grip around the hilt of the knife in your hands. 

“Yes, captain.”

“Repel!”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: I just really liked the idea of Kid fucking launching you

[acapelladitty]

Hi thoughts on GNX?

Oh, I fucking LOVE that album! It's still my most played album of the moment and I really devoured it when it was first released.

Standout bops for me are:

squabble up (been excited for this since the Not Like Us video and it did not disappoint in the slightest)

luther (SZA is fantastic across the album but the harmonies on this are so lovely and sweet to listen to)

man at the garden (BITCH I DO DESERVE IT ALL! This is my new affirmation song to play in the car)

hey now (took a minute for this to settle for me but the beat has me vibing hard)

reincarnated (lyrically and conceptually this song is absolutely incredible)

tv off (MUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAARD 📢📢📢📢📢📢📢📢📢📢📢📢📢📢)

peekaboo ("hey hey hey hey hey hey hey that's my bitch" has become a vocal tic for me at the moment lol)

Which is literally over HALF the album so make of that what ye will. If there is a sneaky deluxe version of the album waiting to be released then I will also be devouring that.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

🎶✨ when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool) 🎶✨

ok!!

1. Squabble Up — Kendrick. especially cus there was that one lewis edit to it that is so good

2. The entirety of Brat — Charli XCX. Everything is Romantic has recently grown a lot on me

3. Groove District — Starjunk 95. as ppl might know i like playing music that makes me feel like im grinding thru a video game instead of capitalist markettasks

4. New Woman - Lisa ft Rosalia. one director for the future of pop, and the future is bright

5. 2 Hands — Tate McRae. the racing marketing worked on me… plus it’s a bop

[ridiasfangirlings]

icl first whole year after watching s2 i thought sukuna was a girl.. even his voice sounded like a girl to me? i dont know what i was on but anyway what abt him and yata arguing "no youre a girl" "no you have a girl name"

If we’re talking the Japanese version Sukuna is voiced by a girl (Kugimiya Rie, who voices both boys and girls — she was Alphonse in FMA). This definitely makes me imagine him and Yata squabbling about it though. Like post-ROK Sukuna occasionally shows up at the bar accompanied by Anna and Yata has to at least pretend to be nice to him since Anna said he’s her friend now. If Anna’s not there though he doesn’t have to hold his tongue, imagine Fushimi coming to the bar to meet Yata and instead he finds Yata and Sukuna arguing with each other. Sukuna scoffs that isn’t Yata the one with a girl’s name and Yata’s like oh yeah well at least my voice doesn’t sound like a girl’s. Sukuna’s all a short guy with a girly name shouldn’t talk like that, Yata says he doesn’t need a kid to call him short and anyway those are big words from a girl. Sukuna’s like if I was a girl wouldn’t you be scared of me (jungle did do their research after all, Yata’s profile has a cherry), Yata says I’m not scared of little girls like you. Before either one can continue the argument Anna comes downstairs and says Sukuna’s name while Fushimi bops Yata in the head all don’t argue with kids stupid Misaki (Yata grumbles ‘you’re one to talk’ but Anna’s looking so everyone grudgingly decides to act like grown ups now).

[silvertonqued]

♡     ◞ ⠀⠀⠀⠀serkan cayoglu.   thirty-seven.   cis man.   he/him.⠀ —    hold your f*** horses !   emre kilic   has just been spotted walking into revolution headquarters. they are best known for being the label’s resident   senior pr manager   and have been working with the label for   eight years.    they share a lot of interesting things about life in the music industry on their social media, so make sure you don’t forget to follow them at   @emrekilic.  the office knows them for being   austere   but i swear they’ve got a   altruistic   side as well. maybe that explains why they’re always associated with   magnets pinning children’s drawings and to do lists to the fridge door, muted sounds of typing long after works hours have ended, always cleaning up other people’s messes.   their coworkers even voted them most likely to   leave your text messages on read.   we’ll see how they live up to that reputation.

♡     ◞        statistics.

full  name:  emre kilic. nickname:  doesn’t respond (well) to any nicknames. date  of  birth:  january 6th, 1986 (37 yrs). zodiac  sign:  capricorn. place  of  birth:  manchester, united kingdom. current  location:  new york city, new york. gender:  cis man, uses he / him pronouns. sexuality:  bisexual. languages:  english (native), turkish (native).

♡     ◞        bits and bops.

character  tropes:  the tenacious, the workaholic, the catalyst, the savant. traits:  austere, meticulous, altruistic, conscientious, grumpy, dependable, nurturing, overcritical, reticent, ambitious, family-oriented, finicky. habits:  rubbing at his chin when deep in thought, believing he always knows what’s best, only drinking his morning coffee out of the  best dad  mug he got from his daughter on father’s day, always dressing a bit too nice for the occasion, leaving the office last, overly organizing his work with post it notes and folders, keeping his email inbox at zero unread emails at the end of every work day, going for a sunday morning runs with his dog. likes:  spending time with his daughter, the smell of fresh laundry, honesty, the feeling of success, nicely organized desk spaces, the taste of a strong espresso in the morning, football, well-fitted suits, comfortable silences, family, long hikes before sunrise, rock climbing and bouldering, whiskey on the rocks, cuddles on the couch, routine, seventies music played on vinyl, reading the newspaper, nature documentaries, meal prepping, private displays of affection. dislikes:  small confined spaces, public transport in the city, social media, cluttered spaces, fickle people, surprises, people who lie by omission, his ex, horror movies, crinkled buttoned shirts, cereal as breakfast, bubblegum, being late or others being late, elevators, losing control of a situation, patterned socks. notable  skills:  exceptional memory, reading people, repairing things around the house, ambidexterity.

♡     ◞        background.

born and raised in manchester, england. emre is the eldest child of the family  &  only man of the bunch, growing up with three younger sisters respectively named gamze, bahar and beyza. one can only imagine how that must’ve been   —    surrounded by bustling sounds of three squabbling sisters, who seemed to go from loving to hating each other as well as emre in the span of mere minutes sometimes. but if their parents taught them one thing, it would have been the importance of family. of sticking by the people you love unconditionally, supporting them through each of their ventures, and forgiving and forgetting the minor disputes. as you would presume, growing up with three sisters brought out a particularly overbearing side of emre   —   he has always been endlessly protective of all three of them, maybe a little too protective for their own good sometimes. he was looking out for them even when they didn’t particularly need it. but equally being the first person to stand in their corner, to solve the problems they couldn’t oversee themselves, to make sure no harm would come to them. even when it came to deceiving their own parents if one of them managed to ruin the living room carpet by spilling their drink or failing an important exam in school. admittedly, he has a specific soft spot for his youngest sister who really can’t do any wrong in his eyes. growing up, he naturally grew into the big brother role within every aspect of his life. independent but dependable, never needing anything but always being there if someone else needed something. like working his first part time jobs  &  buying his sisters back to school supplies or a new outfit for their first day back to school out of pocket. but it equally translated to every single other part of his life. he was easily the most natural candidate for captain of his local football team, often finding himself naturally taking on too much responsibility for the wellbeing of friends, family and even strangers alike. and god knows how many times he got roped into other people’s bad ideas, much to his own dismay, all of them knowing if there was one person who knew the right excuse to get them out of the ensuing mess, it would have been emre. perhaps partially thanks to easily trusted big brown eyes as well. knowing how to clean up other people’s messes so particularly well, it is no surprise how he ended up choosing to pursue a joint degree in marketing  &  communications and found himself gravitating towards the field of public relations. upon graduating college, he bagged himself a job working in marketing for the manchester department of the bbc where he climbed the corporate ladder for six years   —   until he grew tired of it. desperately needing a change of pace, it seemed as if a job offer from revolution records appeared at exactly the right time. it was a referral from an old classmate that led the record label to him specifically, in dire need of a public relations agent able to start within the coming month. the only thing holding him back was the idea of moving across the atlantic. after all, family was the most important thing  &  the idea of leaving behind three younger sisters, on the brink of adulthood and seemingly unable to take care of themselves in the eyes of their older brother, was a concerning thought. but with some convincing, he did end up taking the offer, packing his bags and moving to new york city within the span of a month. new york city was not just the change of pace he was looking for, but an entire overhaul to his life. having never truly been alone in a place so unfamiliar to him, life in the city  &  working at revolution needed time to start feeling natural. what perhaps contributed to this idea of an overhaul of life, was the blossoming relationship between him and a coworker not long after his move, eventually leading to an unexpected pregnancy  &  the birth of his now five year old daughter ayla. becoming a father had not been in the cards for the foreseeable future, but he would no longer change a single thing about the course of events. to say he dotes on her even more than he did his younger sisters is an understatement. complicating the experience is the rocky relationship with the mother of his child, as the end of the relationship left the dynamic between them rather sour. the two are coparenting and attempt to stay civil for the sake of their daughter, but it is questionable whether they can put aside their own selfish feelings forever.

♡     ◞        personality.

has a bit of a reputation for being grumpy   —   and fairly so, if we are honest with ourselves. not the biggest ray of sunshine, seemingly has a permanent frown plastered onto his face  &  is more than a little uptight. he always means well but deals with the stupidity of way too many people on a daily basis. huge problem solver, and is very meticulous in the way he approaches things in life. pays excessive attention to detail, always plans ahead, and rarely gets surprised. admittedly, this applies not only to his job but equally to every other problem that presents itself to him, from existential crises to a broken dishwasher. there is probably way too many to do lists pinned to his fridge door, probably has one of those planners for to do lists and grocery store shopping lists and whatnot in the house. holds himself to very high standards in life, but equally lets that impact the standards he often enforces on others. he’s often critical of himself but also the work others do, how they present himself, or how they treat him. one of the standards and values he holds very dear is openness and honesty   —   he always vouches to be as forthright as he is allowed to be, and dishonesty or not telling the full story will really impact how he feels about you and the respect he has for you. after all, he’s willing to stick his foot out for anyone and he feels the bare minimum he deserves in return is honesty. this is also a big policy he applies at work, doesn’t appreciate artists holding back when he is trying to put out their fires  &  that particular situation has often been the cause of friction, and earning him a reputation of being particularly stern and rigid. but no one can deny he does his job well. slightly surprisingly to those that do not know him well, he is really nurturing  &  often finds himself wanting to care for those around him. anyone that reminds him of his younger sisters has him returning straight to the overbearing older brother figure. he is also quite affectionate especially with his daughter, but also with close friends and other family. often puts his own needs aside for others he cares about, and does so willingly and without second thought. most important of all, has a dog   —   she’s a now two year old rottweiler going by the name  bean  and she’s the most adorable thing. basically his best friend, keeps him company on the quiet nights when his daughter is with her mother  &  his go to partner for morning runs every single sunday. and he will bring her around the office quite regularly, so if anyone wants to hang out with her they’re always more than welcome. her love and friendship can be bought with treats  &  basically any and all kinds of food.

♡     ◞        plots.  

i would put ideas here but my head is empty it is 2:30 in the morning so we’ll just brainstorm and plot and i will put any thoughts into our dms  <3

[supergenial]

Cool songs I heard in 2024

Whatup everyone, it’s time for the yearly roundup with my favorite music I heard throughout this year. The list is rather short this time, goes to show how disconnected from the scene I’ve come to be. Nevertheless keep reading down below the cut if you’re interested.

Surely enough kibou he no youranka manages to get Ariabl’eyeS into my yearly picks this time around (though Raison d’etre would’ve also gotten them in either way). Sometimes one really, really cool performance is all you really need to stay relevant.

Hey it’s a new name! This year Yutaka Kouzaki dropped this really cool album, Tsuki no Suna, and I’ve been listening to it quite a lot, it’s extremely chill and the vocals are right in my sweetspot. The album is a bit samey, often can’t tell which track I’m really on (aside from the eponymous track linked above which is pretty goated) but I can certainty say I enjoy the ride entirely. Can’t wait to hear what else they produce in the future.

Don’t even know why I enjoyed this song (sung by a vtuber I never heard of in my entire life) so much but I have heard it a veritable ton of times this year, guess it just uses the right words. I still think the engrish was a rather poor choice to add in but I guess you win some you lose some.

PinochioP always manages to make me feel stuff and this song is no exception. Doesn't quite drive a wedge into my heart like bokura wa minna imi fumei but still manages to hit hard with a rather simple concept. Linking Uru's cover cause I still love Uru, just didn't get to tl any of her stuff this year.

Probably my favorite Siiva rip from this year, along with the beta mix it’s definitely the better way to enjoy this classic Blue Archive bop (though my actual most listened to hq rip this year was actually His World E3 version).

“Like someone taped an episode of the big bang theory over a jay z mix tape” Sure Jay Eazy has touched all our hearts this year with neo classics such as Bridget, Diddy Kong and his latest Wo Chien, but the Camelia remix for the song that pushed him into stardom is still the one that hypes me up the most.

Some other albums I heard a lot this year: Goetia’s Zuruckspulen which was the cover for our previous yearly picks post, Hatsuki Yura’s Precious Blood and Rigel Theatre’s Regulus and Mira. Sound Horizon also dropped a whole new album, Halloween to Asa no Monogatari and it’s really cool listening through the whole thing, I’m so happy that it is… a normal release purely based on music and not a blu-ray choose your own adventure thing, I’m glad our majesty got over that phase. However while these are all really cool albums when you listen to them from beginning to end I’d be lying if I said they had a True Outstanding Track that had me hooked on repeat.

So yep, those are all my picks for this year. What used to be a rather longitudinal list of yearly picks has been rather brief this year. I’ve mostly been rediscovering old stuff or not checking out much new stuff at all. If we go entirely off topic I guess Squabble Up and Toretto were pretty cool though. And so we move onwards to 2025, let us hope all our favorite composers stay healthy and keep giving us exactly what we want: music that allows us to imagine epic cool stuff while we wash dishes or commute to work.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 109: Celebrating The Winter Solstice

-

Malakar's cavern lair was filled with the scent of spices, roasted chestnuts, and roasted meat wafted throughout the year.

 

Tonight was the twenty-first of December and everyone knows that December twenty-first (or twenty-second) was the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year and the only day with less sunlight during the day.

 

It was not only the Winter Solstice but also baby Aurora's very first Winter Solstice, and Malakar was determined to make her first Winter Solstice celebration an unforgettable experience.

 

Malakar stood at the center of the living room, his dark robes swirling as he directed his eccentric household to prepare for the celebrations that would take place that night.

 

“Grimble, have you finished with the popcorn strings?” Malakar asked, adjusting the ornate lantern he made earlier in the day, enchanting it to cast a bright, golden hue.

 

Grimble held up a tangled mess of popcorn and fishing lining, "Uh… define 'finished, boss."

 

Flord groaned and said, “How hard is it to string popcorn, Grimble? Even Tibber managed it!” He gestured to Tibber, who was carefully attaching freshly popped popcorn kernels to his string of fishing lining.

 

"The key is to place the kernels one at a time," said Tibber.

 

“I’ve got better things to do than messing around with snack decorations!” Grimble retorted.

 

“Enough squabbling,” Malakar said, his voice calm but firm. He turned to his raven, Corvus, perched on his shoulder. “Corvus, assist them and supervise them if you must.”

 

Corvus let out a sharp caw, clearly displeased at being dragged into another one of the henchmen's squabbles but flapped over to perch on Grimble’s shoulder nonetheless.

 

Nearby, Roisin, the two-year-old Irish Wolfhound, padded around with Pippin the mouse perched confidently on her snout. At the same time, Tully, the peach-colored cat, was curled up on Malakar's armchair, watching the chaos unfolding with a lazy flick of her tail.

 

Her aquamarine eyes occasionally back and forth as the henchmen bumbled and fumbled around.

 

“Aren’t you gonna help, Tully?” Flord asked, glaring at her.

 

Tully blinked and let out a meow in response.

 

"I think that's Tully's way of saying supervising is her contribution," said Grimble, trying to get untangled from the fishing lining.

 

Tully let out a purr, stretching out on the couch luxuriously.

 

Malakar chuckled to himself and turned back to Aurora, who was playing with a spoon while sitting in her highchair. Her auburn hair glinted in the light of the lanterns and her dark olive eyes sparkled with curiosity. Malakar leaned down and gently bopped her nose with his finger, earning a delighted giggle.

 

“All right, everyone,” he announced. “It’s time to decorate the oak tree.”

 

The group bundled up and headed outside, the crisp winter air biting at their faces. The oak tree that Malakar took pride in nurturing stood tall and proud at the far back of his garden, its branches stretching toward the twilight sky. Malakar held Aurora in one arm while directing the others with his free hand.

 

Now, during the Winter Solstice, Malakar had several special traditions that he did with his family as a young boy, and now that he had a family of his own, the sorcerer was ready to pass on those traditions to little Aurora.

 

“Let us hang the lanterns first,” he said.

 

One by one, they hung the glowing lanterns on the tree branches, their warm light illuminating the snow-dusted ground. Grimble, Flord, and Tibber worked together to drape popcorn strings, berries, dried figs, and little chestnut bags over the branches. Roisin stood on her hind legs, helping to nudge decorations onto the lower branches, while Corvus expertly placed items high above.

 

Pippin scurried around the branches of the oak tree, adjusting the decorations so that they were nice and well aligned so they wouldn't fall off the tree.

 

“Look, Aurora,” Malakar said, holding her up so she could see the lanterns and other treats hanging on the tree. “We hang lanterns and little treats for the snow angels so that they will find their way here to feast on the offerings we leave for them.”

 

Aurora clapped her hands and let out a squeal of delight, causing Pippin to squeak in delight. Even Tully, perched on a nearby rock, looked impressed at the beautifully decorated oak tree.

 

They stared at the oak tree for a while before heading back inside for a magnificent Winter Solstice feast. The feast was laid out on the dining room table and plates were piled high with tender pot roast, fresh rolls of bread with honey butter spread on top, glazed carrots, and snowball biscuits dusted with powdered sugar for dessert.

 

The family sat down to eat with Aurora, in her high chair, at the head of the table next to Malakar.

 

“This smells amazing,” Flord said, grabbing a second helping of bread and spreading honey butter on top of it.

 

Grimble nodded, his mouth already full of glazed carrots. “Best meal of the year.”

 

Malakar served Aurora a small piece of the pot roast, which she eagerly gnawed on, her tiny hands gripping Malakar's fork. A little bit of the juice from the pot roast ended up dribbling down her chin.

 

After the meal, everyone gathered by the roaring fire, their bellies full and spirits high. Malakar held Aurora in his lap, her tiny body warm against his chest. The others sat in a semi-circle, sipping mulled wine. Even Tully joined, curling up on Roisin’s side.

 

Aurora, on the other hand, drank some of Malakar's delicious homemade cider in a sippy cup.

 

“To Aurora’s first Winter Solstice,” Malakar said, raising his chalice in the air. “And to the traditions that keep us together.”

 

“To Aurora!” the others echoed, lifting their glasses.

 

Aurora let out a happy babble, raising her little cup in imitation. Everyone laughed, the sound echoing warmly through the cavern.

 

Outside, under the glowing lanterns, deer, rabbits, birds, and other animals gathered at the oak tree, enjoying the feast left for them. The harmony of magic, nature, and family filled the forest, a perfect celebration of the solstice.

[gravityknife]

Town of Salem Tales: Brighton's Autumn Murders, the 3rd Day.

Investigator Sam and Jailor Jaime were whispering with each other in the corner of the restaurant, El Grande Corazon. They were both working on uncovering the mysterious mafia quartet that was already responsible for the deaths of three town members.

Two nights prior, a Lookout named Trent triggered a bomb set at the front hall of an apartment building when they went to visit their friend, Rodriguez. On the next night, the town lost a Trapper, Billy, and a Medium, Miranda, in one go. The Trapper was shot in the back of the head outside the home of Stewart—an unknown, unsuspected, and helpful after the first night of killings—and the Medium was shot and killed in their own home.

Now, Josh—unknown yet suspected—is being ruled in as a possible mafioso, based on some things he said on the second night of the killings. His fate is discussed between Sam and Jaime.

Jaime meditated for a few seconds then gave her opinion with eyes closed. "I'm skeptical about Josh being a mafioso." She opened her eyes, revealing sharp, blue, steely irises. She continued, "It doesn't match with the events that have occurred the past few nights. You know, he's been weird talking, but that doesn't mean anything."

"I feel the same way, but I'm skeptical both ways," Sam challenged. He folded his grubby hands on the table and looked sternly at Jaime. "Even with the events surrounding our other suspects, he's not chiming in enough on what he should be speaking on, which is the death of our town members."

Jaime raised her brows, breathed in, and looked around the room before locking in on Sam. She suggested, "I could take him in and question him tonight, if that sounds reasonable. We could leave it to the town to figure the rest of what's going on out."

Sam was deliberate in his speech. He said, "At least let me check his paperwork tonight. Jail him tomorrow night. Tomorrow, if I have the paperwork and it matches to our suspicions, we can bring him in, and you can execute at night." He bopped the table with one hand then readjusted his sports jacket.

"You know... I prefer a term that's more kind," said Jaime, sounding disappointed. "I wonder."

Griffin—a self-proclaimed Investigator, unsuspected—busted through the door of the nearly empty restaurant. He looked around for Jaime. "You! You. Jail Paul tonight! We've got another Lookout claiming that Paul was seen going to Stewart's on the same night Billy got killed!"

"Only now?" Asked Jaime.

"I know! It wasn't a claim on the first night our town got hit, so at least there's that!" Said Griffin, excitedly, practically sweating from what was probably a jog from the town square.

"I'll come outside," said Sam. "Jailor, stay here. We don't need everyone knowing you're the Jailor, yet. We still have the possibility of more crime sprees, seeing as multiple people died last night, and not just one."

"Sure, you go. I'll be listening to what's going on," Jaime said, calmly. She was wondering how Griffin knew she was the Jailor, guessing he checked her out on the first night.

Sam stepped out of the restaurant and its bizarre atmosphere, following Griffin. They walked closer to the town gathering in the middle of the town square. They walked right into a town squabble.

Paul openly insulted his accuser, "You f$$$ing n$$$$r, I was NEVER there."

"He was there. I know he's guilty," said Frank—self-proclaimed Lookout.

"You're a f$$$ing— n$$$$r!" He yelled into Frank's face. "N$$$$R!"

"Yeah, I would suspect that's not helping you at all, Paul," said Rodriguez. "I'm guessing it was one of your b$$$$a$$ cousins that rigged that bomb, too."

"Not far off from what I was thinking," said Frank. "You should be strung up and hung today, pal."

"F$$$ YOU. DON'T BELIEVE ME, THEN. I ALREADY CLAIMED THAT I WAS AT HOME WAITING FOR A N$$$$R LIKE YOU TO SHOOT. YOU WOULD ALL BE KILLING AN INNOCENT MAN BY HANGING ME!!! THIS IS TREASON!!!!" Paul fumed, looking angrily between Frank, Sam, Rodriguez, and Griffin. "AND YOU, B$$$$BOY. WHY DID YOU GO TO THAT A$$HOLE?!?"

"So, you claim Vigilante. It's very possible you WERE involved with that killing, Paul. You've got the gun and everything. What say you, Griffin?" Said Sam.

Paul interrupted before Griffin could say anything, "F$$$ YOU AND F$$$ YOUR DUMBA$$ OPINIONS YOU NEEDLE D$$$ MOTHERF$$$ER!!!"

Griffin wiped sweat off his face, staring at Paul like he was ready to strike him, then placed his hands on his hips to think. He only thought for a few seconds before he pushed, "I say we hang his a$$ up... TONIGHT." He pointed his finger to the ground, emphasizing his seriousness.

Frank side-eyed Sam, then shot a glare at Paul. "Grab him!"

Frank, Sam, and Griffin got into a tussle with Paul. Paul pushed Griffin away, flying him toward a stack of crates, causing some of them to break. He punched Sam in the gut before Sam could grab him, then shoved him onto the ground. Frank came up from behind, but Paul threw his elbow up and knocked Frank right in the eye, sending an injured Frank to the side. Rodriguez ran up to Paul, grabbed him by the legs, and tackled him onto the ground. Paul kept hitting Rodriguez, lankey punches to his sides, but Rodriguez held firm. Griffin and Sam came back to grab Paul by his arms. With his arms secured, Rodriguez grabbed Paul's ankles, even as he was struggling to break free.

"You're a guilty motherf$$$er, you know that, Paul?" Asked Sam, speedily and with spite.

Paul yelled, "AH, F$$$ YOU, YOU F$$$ING N$$$$R LOVERS, I SHOULD'VE KILLED YOU INSTEAD YOU F$$$ING PIG!!!!" He spat toward Rodriguez, but the spit only landed on his own shirt and pants.

The other townspeople were watching in, dumbfounded as to what to say.

"Frank, you alright?" Asked Andrew—unknown, unsuspected.

Frank was holding one hand up to his eye, covering it. A bruise ring was forming all around it. "Son of a b$$$$, he got me a good one. Getting what he deserves. I want to see that."

"DO IT OUT OF ONE EYE YOU F$$$!!!" Yelled Paul, still struggling.

More townspeople gathered to see Paul getting strung up and placed in the hangman.

Sam shook his head at the sight of him. He also looked somewhat relieved, mixed with the guilt of not having found him before Billy's murder. "Guilty."

Frank took one good look at him and yelled, "GUILTY!"

The other townspeople agreed.

Paul was chuckling, out of breath, and giving up his last breaths. "F$$$ you." He breathed harder, knowing his fate was sealed. "I'm innocent. I can still help!" His breathing was turning into sobbing and whimpering.

Jaime looked at Sam coldly. Sam checked her glance then looked at Morgan—a self-proclaimed Doctor—as though doing a morality check. Morgan frowned, but Sam shook his head. "Hang him."

"F$$$ YOU!!! F$$$ THIS TOWN!!!!!" Yelled Paul, right before Griffin kicked the chair out from underneath the hangman. Paul gasped for air and kicked his legs up multiple times before finally giving in.

"Son of a b$$$$. Guilty as f$$$," stated Andrew. "I'm the Sheriff. We're getting all of his things now on paper. We've got a will here, and we have some personal notes that will reveal his true nature and affiliations."

Griffin read the will out loud, "It says:

'Got my gun, gonna make use of it in the upcoming nights if the town'll let me.'

'I'm guessing that Billy is a good start. Seems suspect to me. Don't ask me how I know this, but I have a feeling he's the one that set the bomb on the first night.'

'Good luck to my brethren. I think they're onto me. I hope this town burns to the ground for what it did to me.'

And that concludes his will," finished up Griffin.

"And after going through his personal notes, we've found that he is truly one of the mafioso," said Andrew, the supposed Sheriff.

The townspeople breathed out in relief, clapping their hands.

Andrew held his hands up and out as though to stop the applause. He continued, "Our work isn't done here yet, folks. We have more mafia members among us. In due time, we'll figure out who is who. You all should keep us posted every day and night what happens around town. We're going to win this."

"Stay vigilant!" Added Frank, still holding his bruised eye, now with an ice pack.

"Alright, calm down, Frank," pushed back Andrew. "All of you, let's get some good sleep. Lock up and stay safe! Good work everyone!"

Sam winked at Jaime and then nodded up at Griffin. Jaime wondered who to interrogate before the night was truly up. Forgetting about Josh, she searched her list for the true unknowns in the town. She thought to take in Stewart since he was visited by Billy, but remembered that Billy could've worked his magic somewhere around Stewart's home. She decided to catch up with Frank, protecting him from harm within her jail walls, as well.

Everyone else went back to their homes and prepared for the nightfall. What happens next, one could only guess. Stay tuned for the next chapter of Brighton's Autumn Murders.

[littlekidsteve]

This year you didn't miss that much it sucked ass like ai generated bull that got everyone's stats wrong like water by tyla was not my most played song of the year mine should of been st chroma or squabble up (waters a bop but really ain't it) and kind of made everyone low key cringe if anything YouTube music was more accurate this year 😗

I always get such massive fomo when the Spotify Wraps come out because I don’t use it ☠️☠️☠️