#white ceiling / black dots wandering around

[luuurien]

파란노을 [Parannoul] - White Ceiling / Black Dots Wandering Around

(Noise Pop, Shoegaze, Dream Pop)

A collection of outtakes and demo tracks from Parannoul's 2021 breakout project, White Ceiling / Black Dots Wandering Around brings his music to new heights in such a casual fashion. It feels like any one of these six songs could have been on the final project, and that in itself is a remarkable achievement.

☆☆☆☆½

Parannoul's taken his success and done everything right with it. Finding his footing in the isolated, bright 2021 spring with his massively successful sophomore album To See the Next Part of the Dream, the past year for Parannoul has been a meteoric rise to underground adoration and a lightning-fast artistic progression, his three-way fall release with Asian Glow and sonhos tomam conta Downfall of the Neon Youth saw him experimenting with stranger grooves, more electronics, and a bigger vocal presence that showed he was only just beginning. Now, to begin the new year, he's put out the final chapter in this first year of his career with six demos and outtakes from To See the Next Part..., splashing you in the face with freezing cold water as Parannoul presents some of the best tracks in his discography, that even the scrap metal adjacent to the home To See the Next Part... built is just as lovely to have in your hands. You can hear bits of To See the Next Part of the Dream throughout White Ceiling / Black Dots Wandering Around: the melody on the rowdy and fast-paced Someday ends up on album opener Beautiful World, Parannoul choosing not to throw away the drowsy and warm recording but instead use it in a whole new way, and the tumbling synth leads on Escape are reminiscent of the ones that pop up on Excuse with a different structure to them; even though these are wholly new demo tracks, you can find through lines into the final product all throughout. It's not hard to imagine Someday sneaking its way into the hefty midsection of To See the Next Part..., or for the phenomenal and cerebral use of huge distortion and opalescent synths on Ending Credit to make an even better finish for the album than I Can Feel My Heart Touching You is. And, of course, there's the eighteen-minute uncut demo of White Ceiling, Parannoul's best song to date with its intricate guitar soloing and euphoric instrumental progression that never lets you fall off the train a single time, short softer moments pushing the next section of the song to be louder, to be faster, to be more urgent; just because this is a demo EP doesn't mean Parannoul slacked on any of these. And it's mainly just a ton of fun hearing the ways this album began taking its form through these songs, dating all the way back to November 2020 all the way up to the album's release in February of last year. You can hear the way electronics began sneaking into his work more prominently with the hearty synth arpeggiation on Escape, something he'd then take to the next level on Downfall of the Neon Youth, how the beautiful and intricate guitar leads throughout White Ceiling's demo may have convinced him to try similarly wild things on other album tracks, particularly the earthquake-intense drum fills throughout Youth Rebellion and the title track's delicately-woven acoustic interplay. While nobody but Parannoul knows exactly when these songs were put together, you can see how elements from these demos found their way into parts of the actual album, that these cut tracks were invaluable in helping him figure out how the album should sound and what each track should do. That alone makes White Ceiling / Black Dots Wandering Around an invaluable listen for any fans of Parannoul's music. There's no telling where Parannoul is heading next, but this EP appears to be closing off this part of his artistic arc with something that perfectly encapsulates the adventurous and prodigal nature of his music in an absolutely sublime fashion. Every song here carries the spirit of To See the Next Part of the Dream just as well as any track that ended up on the album, Parannoul treating them as equally important parts of the narrative he wants this story to tell. You can come to either of them to get your fix of this particular Parannoul sound and be fulfilled completely, everything you want these six songs can do and more. It might not come off as exciting or newsworthy as To See the Next Part... was when it was initially released, but don't let that demo tag hanging off the corner of White Ceiling / Black Dots Wandering Around fool you: there is never a time where Parannoul doesn't put his all into his music, and the joy in having even more of it with us is a blessing impossible to take for granted.

[moonlightsolo]

could you write something about harry flirting with y/n whose a fan during one of his shows. like maybe she had a sign that caught his attention (like a pick up line or a joke) and then for the rest of the concert he kept staring at her and making little jokes/comments to her.

mint to be

wc: 2.6k

warnings: mild language and really cheesy jokes.

pairing: harry styles x female reader

read part 2 here

today is the day.

finally, you’re going to see him.

it won’t be like the pictures viewed from the bright screen of your phone, it’s going to be in person.

you never wake up this early for anything- unless their name begins with harry and ends in styles. it’s exactly 4 am on the dot when you roll up to the venue and the bags under your eyes can prove it.

lining up was a confusing but once the workers started to hand out the wristbands it began to make more sense. according to the first people lined up everyone got a number, and thankfully you got a pretty good one.

once you got back to the hotel, you made sure to take a nap beforehand since it’s going to be a long night. the alarm you set wakes wake you up just in time to be able to get readying eat something without rushing. you shuffle your playlist named ‘my faves’ as you start doing your makeup.

canyon moon begins to play.

your nerves bubble with excitement, and a wide smile breaks out on your face. you truly can’t believe in a mere four hours you’ll be seeing the harry styles sing live tonight.

the outfit you elaborately picked out consists of a matching lilac trouser and blazer set with a matching lace bodysuit peeking out from underneath. you also couldn’t forget the iconic feather boa trend. the black feathery fabric hangs from the back of your neck and softly covers your décolletage. you tug your white hightop converse on your feet (such a y/n thing to do) knowing you wouldn’t survive the night in heels. especially in the pit.

the way you did your makeup makes you skin dewy and glow- the rhinestones that are glued onto your lower lash line shimmer. everything is going according to plan, and you look pretty hot- you can’t lie to yourself.

thankfully, you packed your bag yesterday. hand sanitizer, a few disposable masks, some feminine products, money, gum. anything that would be helpful for you or others around you.

and finally, your sign. not too big that it’ll cover other peoples view from behind you and not too small harry wouldn’t be able to read it.

it was something so cheesy. hopefully he will get a kick out of it and other people will too. you smile as you tuck it under your arm and walk outside to your car.

once the parking is paid for, you line up with the wristband sitting heavily on your wrist.

“this will stay on me until i die.” you think to yourself with a soft laugh.

some other fans in line make small talk with you, which you’re grateful for since you’re by yourself in a city you’re unfamiliar with.

finally, the general admission line begins to move. slowly but surely. the employees in the front are checking for your vaccination status or negative covid test. you get your information ready so you’re not fumbling around for it.

they briefly look over it before scanning the ticket your phone and looking at your wristband. quickly, they send you on your way to follow the rest of the long line down to the pit.

the arena is huge. you stare up at the ceiling, the eight ginormous screens hanging from the ceiling face the crowd in all directions. paranoid thoughts wander into your mind, “oh god, what if they fall?” but you knew they had to be secure.

the line stops as another venue employee directs people into their spots. they point to the barricade for everyone to line up.

no way. you’re getting barricade. your hand grips the metal so tight that your knuckles turn white. obviously, you were going to get it because you have lane one tickets and you woke up so fucking early, but reality is setting in and you’re so nervous.

the venue begins filling up pretty quickly, you watch people scramble into their seats from lower bowl all the way to the nosebleeds. jenny lewis plays a few songs before she tangos with a person dressed as a dog off the stage.

the music starts to play. it’s like a giant room full of old and new friends. everyone sings along to david bowie, olivia by one direction, bohemian rhapsody, and countless of other classic songs on the playlist harry must’ve curated.

the energy is so positive, everyone is so happy to be here. you couldn’t be more excited.

the iconic, but nerve wracking guitar strings begin to strum loudly over your head; sweet thang by shuggie otis.

the whole room roars with screams as the lights dim. spotlights fly around, almost blinding you as it hits a certain angle toward your face.

no way. no way. no fucking way. the band is walking on stage.

your eyes widen as this moment truly sets in. niji, sarah, ny oh, elin, pauli, and last but not least mitchell rowland.

golden starts briefly. the bunnies flash on the screen. you scream so loud and jump along with the people beside you.

“to do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous thing without it.”

the girl next to you is completely sobbing, her tears soaking her mask, practically drowning herself with the wet fabric.

the chime starts again and the bunnies flash.

“to do a dangerous thing with style is what I call art.”

your eyes dart around as you struggle to hear what the man is saying next.

suddenly you see something rising from the center of the stage. the screams become louder than ever.

“oh my god!” you exclaim so loud as his fluffy brown head of hair is highlighted by a spotlight.

the girl next to you grips your arm out of pure excitement and you grab her hand for moral support. “oh my god! it’s really him!” you screech as he starts to sing along to golden. “i know! oh my god! it’s him!” she repeats over a few times.

you jump in unison with the people around you, screaming and throwing your hands in the air. he smiles as his eyes dart around, his lips pressing into his microphone. you can see his dimples from where you’re at.

he sings through golden as he walks around the stage, waving to fans and completely making everyone lose their sanity.

the song ends and he transitions into carolina.

this can’t be real.

as you dance like no one is watching, you raise and wave your hands as he comes around to your side of the stage.

shit, the sign!

you quickly pick it up to raise it in the air, his eyes immediately catch it. his eyebrows knit together in the middle, and he chuckles during his line and shakes his head. harry LAUGHED at your sign.

he finishes his verse, the music still playing behind him. “i’ll be back.” he says to you, loud enough so you could barely hear his voice over the music.

shock runs through your veins and you nod your head vigorously at him. he continues to dance and perform around the diamond shaped stage.

you let the sign hang over the front of the barricade so it wouldn’t get stomped on, one hand holds it in place as the other pumps your fist into the air while you dance.

he skips around the stage, blowing kisses to people and then carolina ends.

“thank you so much! our job for the next ninety-something minutes is to entertain you. i promise i will do my very best, but you also have one job and that is to have as much fun as you possibly can have.“ he continues his speech, but it’s so hard to hear over the screams.

he makes his way with his mic to your side of the stage again, “but before we continue, i would love to acknowledge this sign.” he stops in front of you, and your whole body heats up. “may i read it?”

“yes!” you shout at him and nod again to make sure he knows it’s okay.

he chuckles again as he raises the mic to his mouth, his laugh reverberates throughout the whole venue. he shakes his head as he rests his hand on his hip, “if you were a vegetable, you’d be a ‘cute-cumber’.” the crowd screams and laughs along with him.

you can’t help but laugh too, realizing how bad it really is. “wow that’s bad. that’s a real bugger.” he laughs again, making everyone scream.

“but i like it. thank you. what’s your name?” he bows his head toward you, his infamous smirk curving its way onto his lips. “y/n!” you scream out.

it seems as if he’s about to walk away, but he slyly turns around to face you again, “then y/n, you must be a banana, because i find you very a-peeling.” he winks in your direction, making all the air seize in your lungs. he walks away from your side of the stage with a cocky grin on his face.

the person behind you grips your shoulders as you stare up at harry. “oh my god.” you wheeze out in astonishment. the people around you are shouting in your face. you’re hoping someone got it on camera.

adore you then picks up right after that, he does his little shimmy right in front of you. is he favoring this side of the stage?

his eyes catch yours again, a small subtle smile forms on his lips as he sings. a rush of confidence burns through you as you blow him a kiss.

his eyes widen with theatrical surprise as he grabs the kiss from the air and shoves it in his back pocket. this man is going to be the death of you.

you watch as he glides from one side of the catwalk all the way down to the other side. you can’t help but feel crazy as he continuously glances at you while he’s running around.

then you see anthony pham, he’s clicking away as he’s taking pictures of harry in action. the photographer stops in front of you as harry comes around to your side once more, singing directly to you, or maybe he’s singing to anthony. it feels like the few seconds of him singing is passing by in slow motion.

everyone around you has their phone up, videoing and taking pictures of the scene unfolding in front of you. there is no way you’d hold up your phone and let it ruin this moment. you’ll be able to rewatch it somewhere tonight.

everything is so real about him. the green in eyes, the way his cheeks are flushed pink, the little brown curl hanging in his eyes as he bends slightly at the waist toward the pit.

then suddenly, he’s gone once again as he happily skips around the stage to entertain the rest of his fans.

you let out a breath you weren’t aware of holding. the people around you are screaming in disbelief,

“i can’t believe he just did that!”

“you are so lucky!”

“holy f&$!ing sh*t!”

harry must’ve known he stirred everyone up with his little charming display for you. throughout the concert, he innocently glances over at you but hasn’t interacted with you in a while. you can’t help but feel a bit bummed. even though you know you shouldn’t since you just had the best experience of your life.

the concert passes by so quickly, almost like every song is two seconds long. you beam at the angelic man singing on the stage.

the way he bounces around like he drank five energy drinks before performing makes you smile.

he speeds through the songs on his album, as well as the banana song and takes a break to go under the stage.

you make sure to record and snap pictures whenever he’s close to your side again. you hope you caught a picture of him staring at you again. just so you can reminisce later on, and also for bragging rights (and probably for your lock screen too).

during watermelon sugar, he jogs up to your side of the stage again. it makes your heart skip a beat as he stops at the mic stand directly in front of you.

he looks out into the crowd, waving as he sings and smiling. he’s so happy. his eyes follow the crowd in the pit down to you in the front, his hand reaches out to wiggle his fingers to wave.

you can’t help but grin so wide. he can’t see your smile from behind your mask but he can read your eyes.

your hand reaches out toward his, knowing it won’t reach but it’s the thought that counts.

the shutters of a camera catch your attention as you whip your head toward the sound. anthony pham back at it once again. this time with a mischievous smile on his face. you wonder if this moment will be posted on his social media later.

the rest of the concert flashes by and soon it’s time to say goodbye. before the last few songs, harry says his long speech about how grateful he is and how he loves to perform for his fans.

you can’t help but let your eyes fill up with tears from how proud you are of him. you practically grew up with him, following him since his early one direction days.

the insanity of kiwi begins. the flashing white and red lights and the amount of people jumping in the stadium makes the floor shake.

an insane idea pops into your head as you push your way out of the crowd to the back of the pit. you grip your sign as you weave and bob through the scattered people.

you watch as he does a smooth spin and then runs down the catwalk waving goodbye to everyone and blowing kisses. he trots down the stairs toward his bodyguards below, swiftly grabbing his black mask to put on his face and then running with them to the exit.

you grip the metal barrier that separates you from walking backstage with him.

he catches your eyes one last time as he runs past, then screeches to a halt in the hallway leading to the VIP area, almost getting toppled over by the large men around him. he reaches into his back pocket to grab your invisible kiss and press it to his cheek with a cheeky grin.

“you’re going to give me a heart attack, harry!” you scream so loud that your voice cracks.

he just chuckles and shakes his head, “i’m sorry!” he shouts back with a shrug as he jogs backward before spinning back around and disappearing down the corridor.

the band quickly exits a few minutes after him and some fans are already leaving to make sure they beat traffic.

your sign hangs limply in your hand, pure exhaustion is finally hitting you as you slump to the feather ridden sticky floor. all this preparation and it felt like it was over in a few minutes.

“psst.” something sounds from above your head. you let your head fall back to look up.

the photographer again? “hey. do you mind standing up for me really quick?”

you slowly rise to your feet, gripping the rail tightly so your wobbly legs wouldn’t give out.

anthony hands you a sharpie, “write your number on your sign and give it to me.”

your eyes widen like a deer in headlights. you go completely still. “what? why?” you question, but you've already turned your sign over and began to scribble it down.

“just for business purposes.” but there’s a hidden sound in his voice. almost sarcasm or a stretch of the truth.

you hand over the sign with a confused look, but before you could say anything else he thanks you and jogs backstage with everyone else. what just happened?

before you could ponder on that thought some more, you force your body to gain enough energy to shuffle out to your car, the feeling of cool night air on your face makes you feel a little bit more awake. you shuffle your sad music playlist as you drive back to the hotel, knowing you’re going to crash as soon as you make it through the door.

the soft bed envelopes your worn out body and you blindly reach for your makeup wipes on the nightstand. suddenly, a ding sounds from your phone and you wildly scramble for the device plugged into the wall.

it’s an unsaved number. is it anthony, maybe? your thumb swipes up on your screen to unlock it, typing in your passcode faster than you ever had before. your heart drops into your stomach, your gut wrenches and twists from the familiar writing. 

unknown sender: Hi, guess who.

-

A/N: hi!! hope you liked this bc i honestly really enjoyed writing it. sorry for the little cliff hanger, just let your mind wander a bit heheh.

[kizaxi]

- neon lights // haruka hashida x reader

a/n ;; this turned out to be a bit longer than i expected lol. happy birthday hashida my love! <3

꒰ tags ꒱ fluff, laser tag, reader takes hashida out to do something fun for his birthday

it was the evening of your boyfriend’s birthday, and you had one more thing planned for haruka. after spending the day looking for new art supplies and going to a painting café, you decided it was going to be fun to end the day with a good ol’ game of laser tag. that’s what brings you to sitting in your car with haruka in the passenger seat, singing along to the music while driving to your destination. “so, what do you have planned for me now, mon amour?” he says with a fake french accent and signature bright smile. “it’s a secret! but i think it’ll be fun,” you say while looking over to him with a grin. moments later, the gps speaks out, “destination is on your right!”

steering to the right, you enter the parking lot in front of a brightly lit building contrasting against the darkness of your surroundings, not accounting for the street lights. its neon letters stretching across the top, reading out “laser lane.” after parking, the both of you step out; making your way to the entrance hand in hand. “laser lane, huh?” haruka thinks to himself with his hand positioned under his chin. “this ought to be interesting!” as haruka wanders around the lobby, you make your way to the front desk to get your tickets for the game. after the worker hands you the two pastel blue slips, you excitedly stride towards your boyfriend. “i have the tickets! let’s go before we miss the rules and announcements for the game.” entering a door to the left of the front desk, the room is much different than the lobby which was a dark blue with white designs and grey walls. this new room instead was very dark with black walls and carpets. however, it had neon color changing lights on the top and bottom of the walls.

you and haruka find an empty bench and listen to the instructor explain the rules and teams. “there will be two teams! the standard red versus blue team. the colored dot on your ticket indicates which one you’ll be on!” the man in the front says. the two of you glance down at your tickets, noticing how they’re different colors. while you’re on the red team, haruka is on the blue team. “this will be.. interesting,” you say. “it will! but it’ll definitely make things a bit more fun,” he responds grinning widely at you before making a second remark, “i’ll definitely beat you though.” you playfully scoff. “yeah right! whoever loses has to buy dessert. with a small pout, haruka says, “but it’s my birthday! you’d really make me do that?” he nudges your shoulder. “where’s the confidence from a second ago? beat me and you won’t have to, loser,” you laugh jokingly. “alright bet.” and with that, you two wait for the instructor to finish. once his speech is over, he opens another door which leads to a room separated in red and blue lighting. as you and haruka walk through, you make your way to your respective teams. putting on the laser tag gear as the man instructed, the two of you send competitive glances at each other in a “you’re so going down,” manor.

minutes pass and two doors open leading to a very large room which had many different structures and ramps leading almost up to the ceiling. it was also very dark, and there were strips of lights emitting a blue hue. you and your team walk into the arena and head to different places as you wait for the game to begin. “.. three, two, one, begin!” the speaker finally says, and with that the round begins. as you run up one of the ramps, the cold air of the room hits your face. hitting the laser’s trigger, you shoot at one of the opposing team member’s back target and it flashes red. they sigh in defeat and hide until they’re able to access their laser gun again. making your way further up, you reach a dark corner where there’s a small opening in the barrier. “this is the perfect place to shoot from,” you think with a grin evident on your face. after almost getting hit a couple times, you were able to eliminate a few blue members. standing up in your corner for a moment to stretch, you look down and see if anyone is in range so you could score more points. however, your plan was a bit.. ruined, to say the least. what you weren’t aware of was that haruka had found your hiding spot and was now making his way up to you due to your mistake of standing up in your post.

when he reaches you, he leans into you and whispers a small “boo,” which completely catches you off guard. you turn towards him raising your fake laser weapon and shoot towards his chest target, but to your disappointment, miss. “it’s just me!” he frowns at you. you sigh in relief. “nice post you got,” haruka says with a mischievous smile. “thanks! it’s helping me to score a bit of points due to how much high ground i have.” leaning towards you a bit more, “it’d be a shame if someone were to ruin it” he says. tilting your chin up with his finger, he kisses you. as he pulls back, he raises his laser gun to your chest target and presses down on the trigger. you gasp, seeing a red flash come from the target, the signal that you’ve been hit. looking back up to haruka, he swiftly turns around as his dark braids sway and he bolts down the ramp. your laser gun locks due to his hit and you groan, a blush still tinting your cheeks from his trick. you glance towards the timer noticing it said there was only a minute of the game remaining.

walking down from the ramp, you see haruka and a member from your team attempting to shoot at each other as they hid behind block structures. you continue to stride towards them, but suddenly haruka’s shoulder target glows red. you laugh and he shoots a joking glare at you. with that, the timer hits zero and a chime comes from the speakers, indicating that the match has ended, and you make your way to haruka. “that was totally karma at the end there,” you laugh. “it was worth it! i still beat you, and now you owe me dessert,” he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “you’re a jerk, haruka hashida,” you say while you laugh. “perhaps, but you love me!” he says. to which you respond, “you’re right :( now let’s go get some dessert.”

*small timeskip; about an hour later after they pick up cupcakes and small birthday candles*

sitting at the table with haruka across from you, you insert the small candle into his cupcake and light it. “happy birthday love! now make a wish” you say with a smile, and he blows out the little flame. swiping your finger over the icing of your cupcake, you then tap his nose with the sweet cream. he lets out a small gasp :o “hey!” :< , “that was payback for your cheap trick earlier!” you say, giggling at his reaction. “maybe a cheap trick, but it worked!” the two of you spent the rest of the night laughing and watching the new netflix show he’s been wanting to see. this is definitely one of the best birthdays he’s had in awhile.

[vukovich]

peculiar prompt: soulmate au where your dick is the same exact length as your soulmate’s (i guess everyone has a dick in this universe idk 😂) anyways drarry discovering they are soulmates in whatever convoluted way you would like!

Nine and Three Quarters

Summer weddings were an unlikely tradition for a family that ran high to freckles and sunburns, but Harry didn't mind. Usually.

This wedding, though, he'd have just as soon not attended. It wasn't that he harbored any romantic intentions toward Charlie, but seeing him so bloody happy made Harry keenly aware of his own solitude.

Charlie and Constantin fed each other forkfuls of cake and grinned. They were perfectly-matched. Identical white short sleeve dress shirts and gold waistcoats, sparkling blue eyes and mirrored grins as they threatened each other with blobs of icing, much to Molly's horror.

Their matching gold rings felt like an extension of the tattoos on the underside of their left forearms. Charlie's was a dragon, of course. Constantin's was a crouched hippogriff. They were exactly the same size, but different designs and colors.

Forearm tattoos abounded among gay wizards, but it had taken seeing Charlie and Constantin together for him to notice the pattern. A plate of cake floated to his table and set itself down in front of him. He picked it apart with his fork, separating the layers of frosting out from the the cake, then mashed the fluffy cake down into a pellet.

A breathless Charlie flopped into an empty chair next to him and surveyed the wreckage on his plate.

"Got a grudge against that cake?"

"Huh? Oh. No. Sorry."

Charlie slid Harry's cake away, probably for its own good. Constantin and Fleur fox-trotted past, and one of them reached out to ruffle Charlie's hair.

"No date?"

"Nah." Harry licked his fork clean, rolled the bits of cake around in his mouth, and wished he'd have eaten the slice.

"Still doing the playboy thing, eh?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

Charlie huffed a laugh. "You guess? What else would you be doing at clubs?"

Harry shrugged again.

"Well, if you get tired of it and want the name of a really good soulmate tattoo artist, let me know." Charlie wiped up a dab of frosting off Harry's plate and popped his finger in his mouth. "Until then, enjoy hunting in the dark."

Charlie rose to leave, but Harry reached out and grabbed him by the buckle on the back of his waistcoat.

"Soulmate tattoos?"

--

--

"But I thought the tattoo went on my arm."

Harry kept his hands in his jeans pockets, just in case the man decided to help him disrobe.

"It does..."

Bushy grey eyebrows rose in speculation, and the man's brown eyes squinted at Harry, unsure of whether Harry was playing a prank, playing dumb, or playing at nothing.

"So why would I take my trousers off?"

"Riiiggght," he said slowly, gently spinning back and forth on his stool. "Why don't you tell me what you do know about soulmate tattoos."

Harry hooked his thumbs in his pockets and looked around the tattoo parlour for clues, but there was nothing but drawings on the walls. Pictures of forearms, too, all with differing sizes of beasts and creatures on them.

"Uhm," Harry started, "they go on forearms." The man nodded and motioned for him to continue. "And... they're... magic?"

The man shook his head and sighed. "The death of gay wizard culture, I swear. I blame that app."

"Wait, there's an app for-"

"Soulmate tattoos are the size of the wearer's dick."

Every tattoo Harry had ever seen ran through his head at once, and he stood slack-jawed for what felt like hours.

The man continued. "And so part of getting one is getting your dick measured. Professionally."

"I... Uh..."

"Men lie on the app. That's why all these boys are running around thinking they don't have soulmates, but older men know better. Back in the day, we'd just walk up to a bloke, line our arms up, and pair off."

Harry looked at the ceiling and tried to imagine a scenario in which that didn't sound both terrifying and oddly comforting.

"Why would you line them up?"

The man stared at him for a long. fucking. time.

"Soulmate dicks match, kid." He grumbled something about the Internet. "Now do you want the tattoo or not?"

"I... Uhm... Maybe later?"

"Suit yourself."

--

There had to be a better way to do this.

Harry balanced on tip-toe, focused on his dick with one eye, and dipped his quill. His tongue peeked out a corner of his lips as he concentrated on tracing around his shaft.

Was the quill angled accurately? Was the nib too far from his skin to be accurate? Was width even relevant?

He let out a held breath and dropped down to his heels. The paper on his desk was an embarrassment.

"Looks like a fucking caterpillar," he grumbled to himself.

Maybe they made enchanted quills for this.

--

The nook of art supplies at Flourish and Blotts was overwhelming, but it smelled good. Needle-sharp enchanted nibs sounded like a terrible idea. Image-grabbing paper sounded equally dangerous. What if he got his dick stabbed or absorbed into a piece of paper?

Someone cleared their throat behind him.

"Can I help you?"

Draco Malfoy met his eyes with a hesitant smile. He looked strangely at home surrounded by paper and ink. He wore a rumpled black t-shirt that advertised in bold white letters "Truth Quills: The Reign of Error Ends Here".

"Uhm... maybe?"

"What kind of project are you working on?"

"I'm... just... tracing something?"

Draco nodded and reached up to grab a pack of nibs just above Harry's head. The Dark Mark on his forearm caught Harry's eye. It wasn't a Dark Mark anymore. The skull wore a crown of red roses, and the snake had been filled in with vibrant yellow and blue markings. Harry decided it looked a bit like a Grateful Dead album cover. But prettier.

"These are good for most projects if you're just starting out."

Draco handed him a plastic box with more thingamajigs than he had any idea what to do with.

"Uhm, okay. Thanks."

"No problem." Draco's eyes wandered down to Harry's forearm and his smile faltered. "Anything else?"

"No, I think I'm good."

--

He wasn't good. He was nowhere near good, and he had black ink all over his dick. Also on his hands, and the table, and the floor, but those were less important.

"Looks like a goddamn Holstein dong."

--

"Alright," Draco said, and his smile was bordering on a smirk. "But what's the reference? What are you trying to trace?"

A dozen dick-shaped things came to mind, and Harry blurted, "A banana."

Draco did not laugh. Not with his mouth. Just with his eyes. His t-shirt today said "Blink Ink: Drier than your ex" in jagged black script.

"Mm hm," Draco squeaked through his nose. "Is accuracy important?"

Harry let out a relieved sigh. "Yes."

Draco cleared his throat and schooled his face. "Here."

He handed Harry a Truth Quill. "That ought to give you an accurate outline of your... banana."

--

"Hot damn!"

Harry held the outline of his cock up to the light. Damned if it wasn't perfect. He laid it face-down on his forearm and frowned. How was he supposed to get it onto his skin?

--

Draco faked a cough and covered his mouth and nose with his hand. "Pardon?"

"I need to transfer it."

"But a backlight won't work because..."

"Uhm... it can't... light can't go through the... other... thing."

Draco's t-shirt today had a frilly, looping font that said, "Nearotica: Almost There."

"Dare I ask what material you're transferring this banana onto?"

Harry focused on Draco's forearm, and the curve of the roses, and the sinewy body of the snake.

"Uhm... leather?"

Draco shot him a challenging look Harry didn't understand. "I suppose you'd want a cautery tool for that."

"Uhm... okay."

--

He wasn't okay. He had two burned dots on his forearm, and a hole in his paper at the base and tip of the outline.

Over a hundred galleons spent, and all he had to show for it were what looked like two mosquito bites that were exactly one penis-length apart.

The hell with all of it.

--

Harry dropped bags of barely-used art supplies on the store counter, and Draco's chin snapped up. He cocked his head and looked at the bags while Harry read his t-shirt: "Thrill Your Darlings: Tropes and Nopes."

"Didn't work out?" Draco asked.

Harry bent down, rested his elbows on the counter, and shook his head. "Can I return it?"

Draco shrugged. "Store credit, since it's all been opened."

Harry buried his face in his hands. "I'll take it in coloring books."

"I'll throw in some markers."

Draco shot him a pitying smile and stood to collect the bags. His eyes caught on the two burn marks on Harry's forearm. He set his elbow next to Harry's and pressed their wrists together.

"Huh," Draco exhaled. He rolled his tattoo against Harry's forearm. The peak of the rose crown touched the mark nearest Harry's wrist, and the snake's tail met the other.

Harry stared at their arms, wide-eyed and panicked in the best way.

"Is it-" Harry started. "Do they, uhm..."

"I... do believe so. If your banana outline was accurate."

Harry gulped. "It was."

"Huh," Draco repeated. "Well, in that case, there's a giant mandala coloring poster I've had my eye on, but it's a bit much for one person."

Harry let a grin spread across his face. "Consider it sold."

[llamagoddessofficial]

what was it like the first time Mc met Skull in the portal Au?

Is it story snippet time? I think it’s story snippet time.

The vent cover was loose.

You’d noticed, as soon as you’d rounded the corner. It didn’t matter that the facility was dark, quiet, deep in one of its night cycles... in the faint illumination of the safety screens and directional arrows left on, you picked up the silhouette of the cover. You were so familiar with the area of the lab around the room you slept in that you probably would’ve seen it anyway... but what immediately made all your attention snap to it was the fact that the glint of sleek metal in the darkness was, in fact, misaligned.

... Sans wanted everything neat. Sans wanted everything right. Red liked it that way, too, but Sans seemed to have the final say. And it showed- the entire facility was neat, angled, symmetrical and impossibly clean. It was so regimented and unnatural that you felt like an outlier yourself; a strange, curved, imperfect biological creature in a space that seemed to bleed robotic perfection from every corner.

... So... something about this one plating... this one vent cover, at a bad angle, tilted just against the grain...

... You were hyperfocused.

You moved over to it, bare feet cat-silent on the warm white floor, crouching down. You weren’t supposed to be out of your room at night, Sans didn’t like you wandering around when he was unaware, powered down for system maintenance and repairs... your fingers sealed around the loosened ends of the vent cover, and with the gentlest of tugs the whole thing came off, leaving a gaping hole in the wall large enough for you to crawl into. 

...

It was like you had a fog, separating one half of your mind from the other. Every day in this strange lab was confusing- and when you tried to ask yourself normal questions, like “where am I?” or “how did I get here?” or “why do I have no memories before this place?” your brain supplied you with absolutely nothing. And not only that, it couldn’t even supply you with the concern you knew you should be experiencing... the fear, the panic, it wouldn’t come. It was the most paradoxical and horrible sensation... the feeling of knowing something was wrong, of knowing you should be scared, but something in your head just not letting you access it.

... Maybe that was why the sight of the hole in the wall, the gap in the artificially perfect world around you, made your heart skip in excitement instead of fear. Maybe that was why you normally would have stuck to what was safe and not done stupid shit like going into vents...

... But this time, you got on your hands and knees, and crawled right in.

You weren’t crawling for a very long time; after what couldn’t have even been a minute of moving in a straight line through the smooth metallic system, the dark space opened up above you, more than enough for you to stand up to your full height in. Your eyes were wide, childlike in wonder- unlike the rest of the facility, that at least seemed to try and fake an air of safety, this place behind the walls... every surface around you was dirty, stained and rusty, there were tubes and buttons and tangled wires sticking out of the floor and ceiling, the whole place was lit up with an unnerving orange glow that was leaking through slits in the flooring. The air was filled with a nasty tang, metallic and almost blood-like, heavy and claustrophobic...

... It was like you’d crawled into hell. Like you’d gone from the head of the facility to the entrance of the throat. Another world...

...

As your gaze lowered...

... There was something in the room with you.

The hairs on the back of your neck bristled. Near the other end of the room there was a large, metallic box, most likely containing important wiring of some kind. From where you were standing you could judge that it was about your shoulder height... pretty big. 

... But it wasn’t the box that had your attention. It was what it was blocking from your view. A perfectly circular crimson light was peeking out from behind that box... a turret eye, bright and awake and alive, cutting through the murky coloured darkness. And the more you stared, the more you could make out, the more you could see the partially obscured hunched figure attached to the eye that was trained directly on you. 

...

“H-hello?” You whispered.

...

“sh-ouldn_t.. be.here.”

... The voice was like nothing you’d ever heard. Deep, deathly deep, you could feel it in your chest like standing next to a speaker- vibrating in your stomach, the palms of your hands, even tingling along your scalp. It sounded... automated, jittering and autotuned and with inflections no human would use, but so clearly with thoughts and feelings behind it, the unmissable edge of somebody who’s cautious, afraid... a downright uncanny mix of machine and man.

“... Should you?” Your voice sounded so... weak. So biological. Your heart was pounding.

... The eye noticeably changed; the dot in the centre became a fraction wider. It took an odd shape, too... from your distance it... looked like a heart...?

A soft, low “... no_.”

“... Then that makes two of us. Right?”

...

The owner of the eye stood up. 

He stood slowly, too. And as he did, the box he’d been crouched behind just got smaller, and smaller, and smaller... a beast, made of the facility’s leftovers. Large enough to crush you like a beetle. The dim orange light touched his silhouette to reveal thick tubes, misshapen metal plates, wires hanging off him like cut vines... a gaping cavity in his chest where a half-broken plasma motor was faintly humming and glowing. One of his hands looked vaguely humanoid but the other was just a badly affixed pincer claw... the plate on his face had been haphazardly cut away so his one red eye could see, and a skeletal nose shape had been carved into the centre. Everything about him was asymmetric, uneven, mismatched... 

You opened your mouth-

[Bleep!]

...

It floated through the room. A light noise, like a phone notification. You took note of the fact that you couldn’t hear it echoing through the rest of the facility... something that was only heard in the backrooms, perhaps? It was a very gentle little sound, nothing more than a light jingle...

... Except he flinched like a gunshot had gone off, eye blinking out entirely. Immediately, he turned around- you let out a little “H-hey, wait!” and raised your arm but it didn’t stop him. In a few giant steps he’d completely disappeared around a corner, clanging sounds moving so much deeper into the metalworks in such a short amount of time that you found yourself immediately disoriented. How... you were just standing there, how did someone that huge and heavy move so fast?

...

You wanted to pursue. You wanted to chase him deep into the bowels of the lab, down where you weren’t ever supposed to go, where no light would reach... you wanted to so badly you’d already moved a few steps without realising.

... But at the same time, you felt like you’d done enough for one day. Your nose stung from the strange smells in the air, your eyes were straining in the orange darkness... you wanted to go to sleep, back to your relaxation chamber, to rest for now and figure out what the hell you’d just seen.

What the hell you’d just spoken to.

... You turned, and clambered back through the vent. It took no time at all to re-emerge back in the regular facility... back to the whiteness, the cleanliness, the perfect and fake.

...

You had no idea why he’d reacted the way he had to that sound. What did it mean? You trailed your hand along the wall as you walked, making your way through the halls back to your chamber, the floor smooth and faultless under your bare soles. Was it... some kind of warning? An alert system? Was he running toward something, or away fr-

“subject.” 

- You almost jumped out of your fucking skin.

You were never sure where Sans’ voice was coming from. It always seemed to just spontaneously exist all around you, disembodied and impossible to describe, surrounding you on all sides as if emanating from the air in the building itself. No matter how hard you searched you could never seem to find any speakers on the cold, unfriendly white walls or floor... just further adding to the confusion and dream-like quality of this whole place. You clutched your chest, taking a little breath, trying to disguise the wild flinch that you’d just experienced.

“Y-yeah?” You said, smooth as always, and totally completely not-startled.

Sans always heard you, no matter how quietly you spoke- and judging by passing comments he’d made he always seemed to be able to see you and your expression. God, you hoped he couldn’t read the panic in your face.

“the facility is in night cycle.” Calm, emotionless, slightly autotuned, as per usual... but a little softer than the norm. “why are you out of your relaxation chamber?”

You glanced up at the nearest camera, a small black orb close to the ceiling with a gently blinking blue light.

...

“I-I can’t sleep.” Was all you could think of.

...

“... perhaps it will be easier to sleep... if you are reclined in a position, in which you can actually sleep. you should return to your chamber.”

“... I’m just walking around.” You kept moving, hoping he wouldn’t think about where you’d come from. “I mean... N-not all of us have a ‘go to sleep instantly’ button. I’m clearing my head. I’m fine, I'm on my way back anyway.”

...

“you’re stammering. your heart rate is elevated.”

Shit. Shit. No, it’s-

“... did you experience a nightmare?”

...

“O-oh. Yeah. Uhm...” You rubbed the back of your neck, eyes drifting down to the floor. “You know about those?”

“i have access to the combined entirety of human knowledge. yes, i am aware of nightmares.”

“W-well... yeah. Yes. I... had one. I’m walking it off.”

... A pause, on his part. 

...

“... i can turn the lights back on. if... you’d like to walk around.”

“No thank you. It’ll just make me feel more awake.”

“i see. ... well. i need to complete some more system reboots. i will be partially offline again. if... you need me, just call.”

“Okay. Sure. I will.”

[enby-enderdragon]

For a writing request please can you write something harmony hollow s3 related about jack…maybe angst with callum or something I don’t mind just anything you want please because I’m so hyperfixated AND THERES NO CONTENT 😭😭😭😭 thank you for your service if you decide to do this I don’t mind if not

A/N: Anon, I would willing lay down my life for you. Also, Tumblr nuked me three different times for trying to post this helpppppp

[++++]

Jack stands at the edge of the treeline, his heart and stomach churning.

Dawn was beginning to rise, the first rays of sunshine stretching their fingers across the sky and forcing Jack further back under the shade. He had come to spy on his opposing faction leader, but instead was greeted by the sight of Callum exiting the pastel home of one Scott ‘Dang’ Major. His fiancé’s eyes no longer glittered the familiar red-on-black that matched his own and all the other vampires’ eyes, but now shone with the piercing blue-on-white of his human times. The fox-man gives a loud and relieved laugh as he stands in the sun, warming his previously cold skin.

Why was he so relieved?

Jack slinks further more into the shadows, no longer hiding from the sun, but instead shrinking away from the sunshine of Callum’s blinding grin as he chatters away with Scott. Did he truly hate being a vampire this horribly?

The mooshroom halfling’s hands shake and, though long unbeating, his heart clenches as the sound of Callum’s overjoyed laughter drifts to his own ears.

He turns.

He runs.

He runs and runs and runs, ever thankful for his own forethought to bring a parasol when he runs out of trees to cower beneath away from the sun’s harsh grasp. Soon enough, Jack reaches a place once called a peaceful and loving home. No, not his vampire mansion. His canal boat. The place where this all started, the place where it was easy to remember when this began with ‘just a prank, bro’.

The old thing looks the same way he’d left it. Fang’s old doghouse is still out front, rainbow woolen sheep still wander and dot the countryside and wade through the shallows of the river, that silly little sparkle still floats in front of his old front door. It’s still all here.

Careful, Jack jumps over the familiar lily pad pathing and enters the canal boat once again.

The air inside is stale and dust swirls thickly in the air, kicked up from the gust of the door opening. The same dust and grime counts all the abandoned furniture. Anything that had been left in view of the sun was faded and damaged. Oh… There’s a leak in the ceiling, dripping water pooling on the wooden flooring just in front of the entrance to his dungeon. Hell, he can even still hear that stupid vampire cow puttering around down there.

All at once, everything comes crashing down onto Jack and the clan leader collapses onto the closest thing that he could count as a chair— an abandoned crafting bench with scraps of gold still left on the work space. His shoulders shudder as he struggles to not break down into tears over learning that his beloved, the one he had promised his undying heart to, had abandoned him and the others. And for what? A silly human?

His engagement ring burns on his finger and Jack quickly snatches it off, holding the offending jewelry at arm’s length with a boiling glare.

“Gods damn you, Callum!” The vampire yells, breaking. The tears stream down his face as he throws the engagement ring across the ship.

Jack isn’t sure how long he spends, curled in on himself and crying like a fledgling over this stake to the heart. However long it was, whether it be minutes or hours, it was long enough for someone to come looking for him.

“Jack?” A voice tentatively calls out with a creak of the front door. Jack’s heart twists again.

Nicola, the poor woman, was shocked to see her leader in this state, but to her credit, she doesn’t hesitate in rushing forward with questions of Jack’s safety falling easily from her lips.

The scarlet-haired woman’s appearance did nothing to help calm Jack. If anything, it made him worse. He and Callum had turned her together, matching bite scars on each side of her pale neck at the juncture of her lifeblood. She was something of family to them, even closer than the rest of the clan. It was hard to place if the familial feeling was sibling or parental, but it was there nonetheless.

“Jack, talk to me. Are you hurt? Why are you crying?” Nicola says, her deep voice soothing while a frown etched onto her face as Jack simply shakes his head, hugging the woman close.

It takes several minutes for Jack to be coaxed into a calm enough state to talk again, but Nicola is determined.

“C-Callum. He’s not a vampire anymore.” Jack manages to vaguely explain before his shoulders shudder again, biting back a new sob. “He betrayed us.”

Nicola’s expression shifts through a roller coaster of emotions— shock, betrayal, anguish, before finally settling on anger.

“Don’t worry, Jack. We’ll make sure Callum and the hunters pay for this. This will not go unpunished.”

[musicmakesyousmart]

Parannoul - White Ceiling / Black Dots Wandering Around

Self-released

2022

[toffeethief]

Top 5 Albums In The Year Of Our Lord 2022

1. Bill Orcutt - Music For Four Guitars

2. Matthew J. Rolin - Passing

3. USO9001 - Rhesus Albert

4. Parannoul & Asian Glow - Paraglow

5. Black Country New Road - Ants From Up There

Honorable Mentions: 84 Tigers - Time In The Lighthouse / 700 Bliss - Nothing To Declare / Beach Rats - Rat Beat / Berthold City - When Words Are Not Enough / Björk - Fossora / Boris - W & Heavy Rocks 2022 & fade / Buñuel - Killers Like Us / Bill Callahan - YTILAER / Callous Daoboys - Celebrity Therapist / CAN - Live In Cuxhaven 1976 / Cave In - Heavy Pendulum / Chat Pile - God's Country / City Of Caterpillar - Mystic Sisters / Cloud Rat - Threshold / High Command - Eclipse Of The Dual Moons / Dälek - Precipice / Death Cab For Cutie - Asphalt Meadows / Dwellers Of The Twilight Void - Demo 1 / Elder Jack - Elder Jack Long Play / Hazy Cherry Sour - Strange World / Helms Alee - Keep This Be The Way / Julia Jacklin - Pre Pleasure / Dave Knudson - All You Have To Change Is Everything / KRS-One - I M A M C R U 1 2 / Lamb Of God - Omens / Mary Lattimore & Paul Sukeena - West Kensington / Shawn Lee & Misha Panilova - Space & Tempo / Lesser Care - Underneath, Beside Me / Lizzo - Special / Magma - Kartëhl / The Mars Volta - The Mars Volta / Meshuggah - Immutable / Mindforce - New Lords / Moor Mother - Jazz Codes / The Mountain Goats - Bleed Out / Murder By Death - Spell/Bound / Mydreamfever - Rough And Beautiful Place / Open Mike Eagle - A Tape Called Component System With The Auto Reverse / Otoboke Beaver - Super Champon / Parannoul - White Ceiling / Black Dots Wandering Around / Pedro The Lion - Havasu / Post-Skeleton - Everyone You Know Is Alone / Primus - Conspiranoid / R.A.P. Ferreira - 5 To The Eye With Stars / Raw Brigade - Aggressive City / Russian Circles - Gnosis / Sawtooth Grin - Good / SLUG - Continuing Growth / Soul Glo - Diaspora Problems / Spite House - Spite House / Stray Bullet - Factory / Sudan Archives - Natural Brown Prom Queen / The Tallest Man On Earth - Too Late For Edelweiss / These Arms Are Snakes - Duct Tape & Shivering Crows / They Are Gutting A Body Of Water - Destiny XL / Tutu Duo - Wisdom Fight / Warpaint - Radiate Like This / The Weeknd - Dawn FM / Weyes Blood - And In The Darkness, Hearst Aglow / Wormrot - Hiss / Youth League - Somehow Those Were The Days

[theeverlastingshade]

Favorite EP of 2022: Paraglow- Parannoul & Asian Glow

With each subsequent year since I started this blog the format of the extended play (or EP) has become increasingly utilized and recognized as a legitimate artistic statement in and of itself and not just a stop gap of leftovers in between proper albums. Some of the most exciting EPs of the last few years are just as vital, adventurous, and well-crafted (if not more so) as any albums that have come out. Paraglow, the collaborative EP from South Korean bedroom pop auteurs Parannoul and Asian Glow, is no exception to this trend. Both of these artists have become underground favorites within the last few years (Parannoul’s second LP, To See the Next Part of the Dream was of my favorite records of 2021) through the sheer strength of online buzz generated on sites like RYM for their self-released Bandcamp records. Regardless if either artist ends up taking the Alex G/Car Seat Headrest route of parlaying the rapturous reception for their work into major indie label deals is yet to be seen, but it is clear that something very exciting is bubbling in this intensely online intersection of shoegaze, dream pop, hardcore, and 5th wave emo. Paraglow is near perfect balancing act of the of each respective artist’s sound without ever sounding as diluted or tossed off as these sort of collaboration records often do. Paraglow is a triumph of digital shoegaze that thrills like the best of its analog influences, with sights firmly set on pushing the genre forward.

Paraglow isn’t the only thing that either of these artist have released this year, nor is it the only time they’ve collaborated on a record, but it’s easily the strongest record out of both of these categories. Asian Glow teamed up with 5th wave emo hero Weatherday for the slightly underwhelming Weatherglow EP earlier this year, and they released a solo LP called Stalled Flutes, means that was a richer sounding update on the lo-fi noise pop of their superb 2021 debut LP, Cull Fircle, but didn’t really break any new ground. Parannoul released a pretty solid, but very front-loaded EP called White Ceilings / Black Dots Wandering Around, which managed to yield one of his strongest songs yet in the form of the anthemic “Soft Bruises”, but ultimately felt cut from the same cloth as TStNPotD. Last fall Parannoul and Asian Glow teamed up with the Brazillian screamo act sonhos tomam conta for a collaborative split called Downfall of the Neon Youth, which was a little unfocused, but nonetheless pulled the artists into some thrilling new directions. On Paraglow, Parannoul & Asian Glow streamline their approach into a relatively succinct 4 song suite with 3 tight, yet unpredictable songs capped off by a single 16 minute epic that continuously piles on idea after idea without ever really letting the stiches show. The overall structure of Paraglow brings to mind something like Empath’s sublime 2018 EP, Liberating Guilt and Fear, another 3 song sprint with a fourth song that just sends everything through the stratosphere. Like LGaF, Paraglow exudes a boundless sense of possibility from artists who are still developing their sound in real time. And like Empath, Parannoul and Asian Glow both have a singular, well-defined sound, and don’t seem anywhere near finished saying everything that they have to say.

Opener “Hand” sets the stage with a characteristically dreamy, distorted temperament. On “Hand” the duo feign majestic post-rock courtesy of wispy guitar strums and the faint winkling of piano for a few moments before a nimble sleight of hand reveals a trap door of dissonance that envelops the listener. But the feedback dissipates behind the acoustic guitars and murmured vocals as quickly as it emerged, and what follows is a deft approximation of the classic loud/quiet alt-rock dynamic throughout the rest of "Hand", but executed with a much more nimble touch. The vocal melody throughout the hook is one of the strongest that either artist has recorded to date, exuding echoes of The Cure refracted through the stadium sized digital distortion of M83 by way of The Smashing Pumpkins. The last minute piles on riffs as the pair descend into a noise-addled coda that rides a wispy trail of feedback and chimes into the next song, "The Light Side of the Eyes". The first 45 seconds of “The Light Side of the Eyes” are pure instrumental build courtesy of a music box melody playing softly over battered floor toms and chugging distortion. An electronic polyrhythm eventually emerges, and then, like "Hands", the music erupts into a heavily distorted, technicolor bridge, with gentle vocals emerging from the calamity. Some dynamic math-rock drumming quickly gives way to a series of shrieks, and then everything quickly folds back into a chiming guitar progression eerily reminiscent of the Halloween theme song. The duo continue to steadily build up the music until they reach a full-blown noise crescendo that’s cut abruptly as synthetic strings bring us into “Swamp”.

"Swamp" is the EPs shortest cut, and is the most relatively straightforward song on Paraglow, but just as audacious in the execution of their ideas as everything else here. While the transitions from blown out noise and tender piano balladeering are jarring and a little clumsy, they showcase quite a bit of the duo’s range in a potent distillation. "Swamp" also claims some of the most tender vocal melodies of Parannoul's to date throughout the piano sections, which are rendered all the more potent when juxtaposed against the barrage of distorted guitars fighting for space in the mix. As lush suite of strings bring "Swamp" to its conclusion, and an ominous saxophone motif signals the descent into "Wheel". On "Wheel", arguably the most ambitious song that either artist has ever recorded, the duo mix saxophone and strings into their usual blend of guitars, bass, synths, and drums as they progress through several different movements. There’s an ambient detour, a hardcore breakdown, twinkling post-rock, more conventional sounding indie rock, furious piano arpeggios, drum solos, shrieks, and a cathartic vocal melody all held together by the lingering saxophone motif. The sheer scope of “Wheel” is thrilling in its own right, but the duo’s execution renders the unpredictable composition far more engaging than it would ever suggest on paper.

While “Wheel” is almost too sprawling for its own good, it, along with the other 3 songs on Paraglow, never outstays its welcome. The duo managed to (generally) rain in their knottier impulses while still leaving plenty of room for discovery. Paraglow finds a welcome middle ground between Parannoul’s soaring shoegaze and Asian Glow’s dense noise pop with some of the most adventurous, and anthemic music that I’ve listened to this year. It’s a testament to the strength of their individual voices that the project didn’t buckle under the weight of its ambition or come off like a pale imitation of either artist’s work. The music is tighter than a first idea best idea approach would suggest, but loose enough to allow for the pair to follow their impulses on a dime. The charm of Paraglow lies in hearing how many ideas that these two artists managed to pack into these songs without repeating themselves, and while working in service of what is ostensibly still pop structure. Given the prolific, and highly collaborative nature of each artist it still feels like both Parrannoul and Asian Glow are just getting started, and hopefully Paraglow will be far from the last time that they record music together.

Essentials: “Wheel”, “The Light Side of the Eyes”

[certifiedskywalker]

Another Memory - Kylo Ren

forthesakeofstarwars said: If you’re still taking requests, can I send one in for Kylo Ren, in which the reader is dating him and she’s sent out on a solo mission one day? She gets injured on the field and hides it from Kylo when she returns, but he finds out anyway. He was upset at first that she didn’t tell him about it but than he takes care of her and helps her wound to heal.

AN: Guess who got too carried away? Me, this guy, I did!

Magma burns. That’s what it felt like. Searing, beyond white-hot pain that shot through your lower abdomen with each aching step. You heard once of Mustafar, the lava rivers and lakes that dotted the scorched landscape like bright death traps. Within your stomach, you imagined a crater, akin to the magma pools of that dastardly planet, spewing concentrated bolts of flame towards the rest of your internal organs.

“Commander.”

Through a grimace, you dipped your head at the two lower ranking officers that acknowledged your presence with a salute. Unbeknownst to them, you were in near-debilitating pain with your right shoulder pressed against the wall of the ship’s hallway for balance. As they passed by, you stood up right and muscled through scream of hurt in your stomach.

“As you were,” you snapped back. They walked off with a little more speed than when they came upon you. You took a small bit of pride in their fear before pressing your shoulder back against the wall. Out of all of the First Order’s officials, you were the least frightening. The towering Captain Phasma and the biting voice of General Hux made even you, a being well trained in the darker arts of the Force, shake from time to time. And that was not even considering the short-fuse temper of Kylo Ren.

At the thought of him, you felt yourself weaken. A groan slipped out past your lips and you pressed yourself impossibly closer to the wall for support. If he saw you like this you would never live it down. Another wave of searing pain rushed through your abdomen, this time mingled with a twinge of shame. Eyes squeezed shut, you gritted your teeth and forced the stinging tears behind your eyes to stay there. 

If only he had stayed. Stayed in your shared bed, tangled with you in sheets until the comm stopped blinking and whirring for his attention. How you wished he had ignored the device, the mission he was given, and stayed with his hands on you. But then your comm had started to blink, coaxing you out from under him and the messed sheets. You should have stayed instead of going to...you couldn’t even recall the name of the planet now.

Overwhelmed by the pain left behind by the blaster bolt that had charged through your gut, your brain worried itself with keeping you on your feet rather than the destination of your mission. Despite the battle scar and trip to the infirmary that danced in your near-future, you had been successful. The insurrection and rebels that had amassed against the Order had been dealt with. Though they had not gone down without a fight.

Seemingly triggered by the memory of battle, your wound screamed with a heat painful enough to pull the air from your lungs. With a gasp, your knees hit the cool, tile floor of the ship. Black spots dotted the edges of your vision as you fought to stay conscious. Focusing on deep breaths, you reached out to the Force for aid, for the power to push your body through the pain; a skill you had learned from Luke Skywalker so long ago. 

You fell back on his old lessons only when the situation was dire. Passing out in the hallway, surrounded by inferior officers was truly dire.

“Commander?”

With an aimless, wandering hand, you pushed the concerned officer to the side.

“Leave me,” you hissed, trying to maintain a steady rhythm of breaths. The Force seemed to recoil from you as a fresh and overwhelming wave of pain cut through your abdomen. Your vision began to blur. “No, no, no.”

Murmurs from the officers and troopers around you muddled in your ears. Each comment or quip sank into a thick mud, unheard by you. Harsh and growing shallow, your breathing was the one sound you could hear clearly. A haphazard, unsteady beat of air down your throat and into your chest. Desperate to stay lucid, you closed your eyes and willed your body to stay aware. Get to your feet, your mind echoed the mantra, get to your feet.

You pushed up on your knees and, shaking slight, moved to stand. With a careful step forward, you opened your eyes. Bright lights installed in the ceiling shown in a staggering display. Darkness swept over your vision, but you weren’t sure if you shut your eyes or succumbed to the agonizing heat in your stomach. Your knees impacted the hard floor once more and, in a brief moment of audible clarity, you heard the gasps of those surrounding you.

Then you heard a deeper, familiar voice; one laced with worry. “Y/N?!”

Grey walls and bright lights enveloped you when you opened your eyes. Steady and mildly annoying, a beeping vitals monitor served as a reminder that you were alive. That, and the dull aching all over your body. Most of the lingering pain was concentrated in your abdomen and your knees. You didn’t dare to look at the mess whatever medical droid made of your wound; there would be a scar, no matter the make and model of machine. 

“What happened?”

You let your head fall to the side, your gaze shifting from the unentertaining ceiling to your right. Sat beside you, masked in a shadow of his own creation, was Kylo Ren. The soulless visor of his helmet was fixed on your face. In any other position, the intensity of his hidden gaze would have set you aflame. Now, you felt only shame. 

“Tell me.”

“The mission was a success,” you replied curtly, ignoring the truth he wanted.

“That’s not what I meant.” Coldness edged Kylo’s tone, mostly due to the modulator embedded in his helmet mouth piece. You hated how it changed his voice and, despite it’s mechanic alteration, how it was still so wonderfully familiar to you.

“The dissidents fought back,” you explained, “nothing I’m not used to.”

“You’re hurt.”

You can’t help but laugh at how plainly he makes the statement. “I hadn’t noticed.”

At your mocking tone, Kylo stands. You watch as he moves towards the entrance to your infirmary room and forces the door shut. The metal screeches against the floor until the two sliding doors meet in the metal. Kylo’s arm falls as he turns to face you once more.

A biting comment makes its way to the tip of your tongue. Just as you’re about to spit it out, Kylo moves again. He brings his hands up towards his helmet and you hear the telltale hiss of release as he lifts the metal from his head. The comment dies between you lips the moment you catch a glimpse of his skin. A breath of relief takes it place.

Without hesitation, and slight shame momentarily forgotten, you meet Kylo’s eyes. Dark, wavy strands of hair covered part of his face, nearly obscuring the med-tape covering the gnash the scavenger girl carved into his cheek. Against the uncomfortably thin sheet of your infirmary cot, your finger itched to traced the lines of his face, the curve of his jaw. The want became nearly unbearable when he moved to stand by your bedside once more.

“You should have come to me when you returned.” Without the modulator and helmet, Kylo’s deep voice was smoother. Akin to fine granules of sand running through your fingers rather than grating gravel. You felt comforted by the sound, even if he was chastising you. 

“I thought you were still out on your own mission.”

“You couldn’t sense me? My presence on the ship?”

When you shook your head in reply, Kylo frowned. Disappointment flashed in his brown eyes but did not linger; nor did the downwards turn of his lips. Quickly, Kylo collected himself and plastered on that flat expression you assumed he wore often beneath the mask. He took a step closer to your bedside, resting his heavy helmet on the end near your feet.

“I could sense you,” he said lowly, “your pain. How you were thinking of me.” Heat rose to your cheeks, spreading to every inch of your skin. The warmth further dulled the ache in your abdomen. Your attention was fully focused on him now. 

“Is that why you came to my rescue? You were a little late if you…” You trailed off as Kylo’s leather-gloved hand brushed against your cheek. A shaking breath rattled in your chest and you closed your eyes for a long moment to search after your words in the dark. 

“I’ll never be late for you again,” he murmured when you opened your eyes again. Sincerity dripped from his tone, filled the dark depths of his eyes. His hand brushed against your hairline at you stared up at him, covered fingertips dancing down along your jaw. “Never again.”

“And I’ll find you the moment I return from missions.”

Kylo nodded and you saw the slightest up tilt in the left corner of his mouth. An almost smile. The same expression he would often give you when you came to him, ready to share a bed for the night. If you were lucky, you would get a half smile, large enough to bring out the lines in his face; the evidence you had that he could be happy.

“Good,” he replied, pulling his hand away. 

You watched as he plucked the glove from his fingers, exposing the skin of his palm to you when he reached out. Picked up by the vitals monitor was the quickened pace of your heart as Kylo tugged the thin sheets tucked around you down from where they rested. Cool air kissed the skin of your nearly naked chest and then your bare abdomen. You wanted to recoil, hide from him despite knowing he had seen you far more exposed before.

His eyes held your gaze before you lost your nerve. Daringly, you glanced down at your abdomen and eyed the dark red, inflamed scar left behind by the blaster bolt. The medical droids had done well, better than the last time. There was still ample room for improvement. Displeased, you looked away, back up at Kylo.

“Another memory,” you mused bitterly, “though yours is far more handsome.”

Kylo let out an amused huff before studying your new scar. He leaned forward and let his bare fingertips traced the outer edges of the puckered mark. His touch did not hurt but the vitals monitor alerted you both to an uptick in heart rate again. In response to his fingers, your body tensed; wound itself tight like bacta-gauze around a bleeding limb. Enjoying the sight of your body reacting so precisely to his touch, you saw Kylo wore another almost smile. 

“Do you want it gone?” 

His question catches you off guard. Is he serious? When he moves his eyes from your wound to meet yours once more, you see that he is. The almost smile is dropped, his brows are relaxed, and he reads as unconcerned.

“Yes,” you say, more curious to see what he means than to actually have the scar removed. Kylo nods and moves his bare hands away from your abdomen, though just barely. Palm facing down towards your wound, Kylo’s hand hovers. A moment passses and there is nothing but the want to make a teasing comment.

Then you feel it. It, the Force, is warm as it licks at your wound. Licking is the only way you can describe the feeling though it is not wet. Only warm, comforting, and moving. You gasp and your eyes lift to study Kylo’s face. His eyes are closed, lashes fanned out against his cheeks as he focuses all his energy, the Force, on your scar. 

You feel a shift in the air as he lifts his hand. When he opens his eyes, he does not meet your gaze but peer at the scar. Or where the scar was. A few inches above your hip, fresh, unharmed and unblemished skin was shown. It was as if you had never been struck at all. The dull pain that gripped your torso was relieved like a dark cloud being brushed from the sky.

Speechless, you barely react when Kylo leans further down. His hair falls around his face as he pressed his warm lips to the spot where the scar had been. The ends of his hair tickle your skin but you’re still too enthralled to twitch at the sensation. Kylo turns his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are knowing and his mouth quirks up into the slightest of half smiles.

“Beautiful.” 

Falling from his lips, the word thrusts you back into another memory; this one not embodied or immortalized in a scar. You are back, caught in the morning before you mission, with your skin pressed against Kylo’s. Sheets are scattered around you and he is kissing your bare shoulder when he says it over and over again, punctuated by a new kiss each time.

“Beautiful.”

When he says it for a second time, you’re back in the present, in the infirmary. Kylo has straightened his posture and is reaching for his helmet now. You move, sit up in your cot and throw a hand out to his. Your fingers wrap around his wrist and gently squeeze.

The touch brings his eyes to yours. His mouth is open slightly, shallow breaths coming and going as he waits for you to say something. To say what he is thinking, wanting, too.

“Stay.”

Wordlessly, Kylo moves to meet you in the middle. Before you can react, his lips find yours and you are falling back against the cot. You are lost in him again and more than enjoying the feeling of it. When you feel his bare hand against the skin of your waist, you smile into the searing kiss. What another good memory this will make.

[unicronian]

a bunch of powers/hybrid smp character design hcs based around their powers in the mod:

(small warning for slight body horror in tubbo and wilbur’s sections, and horror themes in wilbur’s section)

this got long so here’s a snapshot of my fav bits above the read more:

tubbo can open his stomach up like a shulker, and just reach in there and put stuff in and get it out again

wilbur’s physical appearance is dependent on how well rested the person looking at him is

tommy glides by t-posing because his arms are his wings

ranboo can open unhinge his jaw and open his mouth like an enderman, and he has like an extra layer of mouth skin like a snake that you can only see when his mouth is unhinged

Phil hates places with low ceilings cause his wings are super long and he can’t stretch them out

Niki’s got gills on her neck to help filter water, so when she wants to talk to people above water she has to stick just her head out of the water and leave her neck beneath it

You know su!peridot’s augments she had at her intro, jack can like do that with his clawed fingers. Just like detach them at will and control them but they can’t go very far from him so it isnt very useful

Shulk!Tubbo:

tubbo has pretty thick skin with a slightly sickly pallor even though he’s perfectly healthy

he also has a carapace that’s similar in color and texture to a shulker’s shell covering the parts of his body that don’t bend(arms, legs, top of his head, upper chest) he can use these to block sword blows but if the sword is sharp enough it’ll stick cut into his skin

the carapace itself doesnt bleed, but it does heal and tubbo feels pain if it gets cut

like a lobster or turtle the carapace is a part of tubbo’s skin and can’t be removed(without extreme pain)

his hands are also reinforced by his carapace, giving him sharp claws at the tips of his fingers, and this is why he can punch through stone easily and without breaking his hand

he’s also pretty heavy underneath this extra armor and as a result he’s got a lot of intense muscle mass

tubbo can open his stomach up like a shulker, and just reach in there and put stuff in and get it out again, but it has limited storage

it kind of makes his stomach look like a shulker, with interlocking squares

the stuff inside his stomach exists in a type of hammerspace(we’ll just call it shulkerspace) so if you were to cut him open the stuff wouldnt be there

you do NOT want to stick your hand into tubbo’s shulkerspace, he can do it with no ill effects but if someone else did they might as well wave goodbye to that hand even if tubbo doesnt close his shulker mouth on your hand

Phantom!Wilbur:

wilbur can do like... ghost things like turning invisible and walking through walls in phantom state

particularly astute(or anxious) people can sense when wilbur’s nearby in phantom state, but not accurately guess where he is

wilbur oftentimes goes in and out of phantom state without even realizing it, sometimes just vanishing in the middle of the conversation because he let his mind wander

he also burns in the daylight which is sadge but not when in phantom state so he sometimes goes into the phantom state on reflex when entering a very bright room

wilbur can sense how tired people are, and if they are tired enough to summon phantoms wilbur can sense whose insomnia the phantoms are targeting on sight

wilbur looks like how you’d expect a ghost to look: see through, human, or at least... that’s what he looks like when you wake up in the morning

his physical appearance is dependent on how well rested the person looking at him is, but he is always corporeal when out of the phantom state

by nighttime, when you’re getting ready for bed wilbur’s eyes are green and if you look closely they glow in the dark, and if you look closer a skeleton makes itself clear beneath wilbur’s skin. it is not a human skeleton

by morning the next day without sleep transparent membrane stretches between wilbur’s claws and you can clearly see the skeleton. fangs protrude from its mouth and its rib cage stretches grotesquely outwards with every breath wilbur takes

by the second night wilbur’s transparent skin is blue and phantom membrane has escaped the confines of his hand and run down the length of his arm, extra bones begin to grow from the skeleton to accommodate the growing wing. it is harder to see through him.

by dawn of the third morning you can see a tail, more bone than blue, leathery skin, lashing behind wilbur, it seems to always whip itself in your direction. it stings when it touches you, but not for long. his frayed wings are fully formed.

night falls and wilbur’s glowing green eyes are sunken in, practically floating in black eye sockets. his skin looks vacuum sealed, giving you a perfect map of the meatless bones inside. he is entirely opaque, you cannot see through him but his stark white skeleton, expanding, stretching, and clawing at you, is clearly visible

you sleep, and wilbur looks human once again

this version of wilbur doesn’t only exist in the minds of the sleep deprived. if you let him stay in the edges of your vision too long, no matter how rested you are, you can see this form

by the time you focus your vision on him wilbur will be back to his normal state. you can’t see what your brain desperately tries to refuse. it is only when your mental walls have been broken down that you can witness wilbur’s form. for better or for worse.

Avian!Tommy:

instead of having an extra set of limbs like phil tommy’s wings and arms are the same limbs, like a harpy(and like wilbur)

where the wing’s wrist is(essentially where it bends, if you’re unfamiliar with bird anatomy) Tommy has some extra human-like clawed fingers that he uses as hands

tommy isnt strong enough to fly with them, even if he is very light thanks to hollow bones. he can glide, though

yes, this does mean that tommy glides by t-posing

tommy also has talons for feet, which sort of assist him in being slightly faster than everyone

his feathers are the same colors as a red parrot’s, and he keeps them very well maintained so they keep their lustrous color

he’s also got a lot of feathers dotting his body, like around his ears and stomach and they protect him from the cold in the high up areas he likes sleeping in

ok i dont really have anything to say abt his veganism he’s just Like That because parrot(cause god knows chickens are omnivores)

he has a beak that he uses for nuts and seeds and he can make bird noises!

And he’s got a small feathery tail that isnt useful for much but does look cool

Even though he can’t fly Tommy does have a third eyelid like a bird, it goes side to side and is transparent, he mostly just uses it while gliding or swimming

Enderian!Ranboo

Very tall boy with very long arms

Honestly very similar to dsmp!ranboo

Water burns him like acid and leaves behind very distinctive burn scars but he heals pretty easily from water burns

He is Constantly bamboozled by people wearing pumpkins and he’s Not a fan

Ranboo can open unhinge his jaw and open his mouth like an enderman, and he has like an extra layer of mouth skin like a snake that you can only see when his mouth is unhinged

He’ll avoid eye contact at all cost because it agitates him and gets him unreasonably angry at whoever he’s talking to, the others have gotten very good at avoiding eye contact with him, though

Teleporting is a lot of fun to him and he’ll sometimes just teleport around just for the sake of it, because he can sense the change in location when teleporting in a way humans with ender pearls cant

Enderians are the results of people trying to fuse together with end-based magic and so all of them have the half and half texture of their skin, but most of them all have the same powers

Speaking of skin, Ranboo’s ender skin is strangely smooth and he doesn’t have a protruding nose, just slits in his face he smells through

He also doesn’t have any body hair at all, but his long ears generally distract from that

Elytrian!Phil

Phil is an incredibly light person, compared to a human he’d be dangerously underweight

He’s essentially skin, hollow bones, and elytra because if he was anything else he wouldn’t be able to fly especially with armor on

However this and his hollow bones means he’s pretty weak in all areas, especially underground

Thanks to his Brain he gets slow and weak under low ceilings and also sadge

Aside from the kind of unearthly tint to his skin Phil looks pretty human, aside from the elytra of course

He’s got insect wings protected by an elytra. So, elytra on beetles and things are kind of like a half circle protecting the wings and pressing them to the body of the beetle, and this works because beetles are wing shaped- phil is not

So, phil has very unique elytra that completely encase his wings, and the top part moves out of the way to let his wings fold out so they’re like twice his height- and that partially adds to his dislike of low ceilings, he can barely stretch his wings

Phil’s got fragile beetle wings so they look pretty fragile but they can withstand a beating and carry Phil a ways(though it’s partially phil’s innate magic that lets him shoot into the sky)

Phil has a transparent third eyelid just like Tommy

And, he has antennae that he uses to feel the wind while flying

Merling!Niki

Niki essentially has two types of skin: a human-looking thick layer of skin that covers the upper portion of her body and an even thicker scale-like layer that covers the lower half

Her human-like skin is very rough and it doesn’t absorb water like human skin does, the scales are smooth but also don’t absorb water

She has two legs and a long, thick tail she uses to propel herself through the water, the tail is entirely covered in her blue scales

Her hands and feet are webbed so when she swims she spreads her hands out to help push herself through the water

Niki also has decorative fins on various places on her body like her ears, legs, arms and stomach, they’re all blue and can’t be controlled in anyway

She’s got gills on her neck to help filter water, so when she wants to talk to people above water she has to stick just her head out of the water and leave her neck beneath it

Breathing in air and rain at the same time is extremely uncomfortable and leaves her constantly feeling short of breath but she considers it well worth it to walk on land for a period of time

She also has sharp teeth because: yes

She doesn’t have eyelids, though, her eyes are built like a fish’s

Blazeborn!Jack

Jack constantly gives off heat, he wont burn anyone but you’ll get very hot if you stand too close to him for too long

He has metallic blaze skin that glows like molten metal if he was recently on fire or in lava

You know su!peridot’s augments she had at her intro, jack can like do that with his clawed fingers. Just like detach them at will and control them but they can’t go very far from him so it isnt very useful

And, of course, he’s immune to poison and hunger because he’s basically an android, he’s like a gold material and metal cant get poisoned or hungry

Jack will, however, become fatigued if he’s away from intense heat like fire or lava for too long, like a week

He gets hurt in water because the water basically sucks the heat away from him and that actually hurts him

Staying in a cold biome too long would do the same thing if jack didnt go prepared with warm clothing and probably a flint and steel but tbf to jack humans also die in cold biomes if they’re unprepared

I’ve got nothing for fragranceman right now as i’m not sure if schlatt’s going to be on the server a lot

But i might make skins for these!

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Winter Court Wedding

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Rhysand

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: This has been in my head for a few days and I had to get it out of my head so I could write other stuff XD

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) 2,356 words... yup it ran away from me again. This one pretends Tamlin isn’t a terrible person so we get Rhys instead 😉 @itscheybaby

^^^^^

“Rhysand?” I called through the town house.

“Yes?” His voice was coming from the kitchen.

I went downstairs, holding the box I’d found in our room. “What’s this for?” I asked, indicating the heavy fur-lined black cloak with silver embroidery of the moon and stars up the sides.

“Can’t I give you a gift just because I want to?” His smirk was almost too casual for me to believe him.

“You know I prefer coats in Velaris,” I replied. “So there’s something going on.”

He sighed, wings drooping. “Alright. You caught me,” he muttered. “We’re going to the Winter Court.”

“What for?”

“Kallias and Vivane’s wedding.”

“Didn’t they get married like an hour after he got back from Under the Mountain?”

Rhysand folded his arms, tucking his wings against his back a little tighter. “Yes,” he said carefully, “but they’re hosting a formal reception for their court, as well as for the other High Lords. I’m sure Kallias doesn’t actually want to invite us, or any of the other High Lords for that matter, but Mor and Vivane are really good friends and I don’t think he wants to harm that relationship.”

“So Mor’s coming with us, then?”

“Unfortunately, no. She has to put out a fire in the Court of Nightmares.”

“Literal or figurative?”

“Figurative. Keir is pitching fits again.”

“Ah. Same old, same old, then.”

“Pretty much.”

I decided to change the subject.

“So, the cloak is to keep me warm in the Winter Court climate, I’m assuming.”

“Yes. Hopefully without damaging your dress. Sometimes your coats rumple the skirts. While we’re in Velaris—and anywhere in the Night Court that’s not the Court of Nightmares, really—I don’t mind. But you know what we look like to the other courts. The image we present.”

Wealthy, dangerous, ruthless, powerful Night Court High Fae. Immaculate and pristine. Never even a hair out of place. Always in control of every situation. The High Lord who always got what he wanted, his thunderstorm of a High Lady by his side. Nary a trace of the Illyrian half-breed with self-worth issues and the Autumn Court runaway who’d never belonged anywhere.

“I know,” I said.

Rhys approached me and pulled the cloak out of its small box. “Besides,” he said, slinging it around me, “it does look rather fetching on you.” He bent his head and pressed a kiss to my neck.

“Charmer,” I teased.

He laughed. “I could say the same about you.”

I wrapped my arms around him. “I missed you, while you were… gone.”

Even though he insisted he was fine, I still did my best not to mention Under the Mountain. The secrets he’d been forced to keep, the things he’d been forced to do to keep me and the rest of the Night Court safe. We talked about it when he needed to, and I would always be there for him, but I didn’t need to force the past forty-nine years on him.

Rhys put his arms around my waist under the cloak and buried his nose in my hair. “I missed you too.”

“So when do we leave for the Winter Court?”

He knew I was changing the subject away from what I didn’t want to bring up, but he let me. “Tomorrow. We may stay overnight, we may not.”

“Shame Mor’s not coming with.”

“Agreed. She’d love to see Viviane again.”

“We’ll find some way to reunite them. How about that?”

“I think it sounds delightful. We’ll put them in a sound-proof room so we don’t have to hear them squealing into the late hours of the night.” His sarcasm was not lost on me. I chuckled. We swayed in place for a bit. “Let’s go get prepared for tomorrow, darling,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed.

—

I already miss the Northern mountains, I thought at Rhys, wrapping the beautiful new cloak tighter around me to suppress a shiver. Even they aren’t as cold as this.

He hid his amused smile with a lazy smirk, boredly surveying the Winter Court ice waste around us as the reindeer-pulled sleigh whisked over the snow. I agree, he thought back, but it’s not for very long.

The small tiara I’d chosen to accompany my gown was like I’d wrapped an icicle around my scalp. The metal of it practically frozen to my skin.

The sleigh turned a corner.

“By the Cauldron,” I breathed.

The palace was made of ice. It towered into the sky with sharp jags and icicle towers, hexagonal walls filtering sunlight from behind. White-furred bears patrolled the battlements alongside the soldiers. All of whom sported white hair and pale blue uniforms. Snow was falling, but there was only a scattering of clouds. The High Lord’s magic, then, probably.

It might be a good idea to close your jaw, Rhys advised, no sarcasm present. We have an image to maintain while we’re here.

Right, I thought.

The sleigh driver pulled us up to a half-circle drive of packed snow. At the apex of the half-circle were two massive doors to the palace, wide open to the deep blue gloom of indoors. After slowing to a stop, we gave the driver a curt but polite thank-you and swept out of the sleigh. I caught Rhys flicking a finger before offering me his arm. What magic did you just do? I thought at him.

Tipping the driver. It’s polite but I definitely don’t want to be seen doing it. Would ruin the monster reputation I’ve spent centuries building. An image accompanied his reply—of a cheeky wink. I sent him back nothing but laughter.

An attendant—a young “lesser” faerie female with skin the color, texture, and reflectiveness of powdered snow—guided us inside. It was a lot warmer within the ice-crafted walls than I would have expected. I almost wanted to remove my cloak. The attendant looked absolutely terrified of us. Rhys and I barely acknowledged she was there, both keeping impassive expressions on our faces. I wished I could reassure her that everything was alright—that we were friendly—but I knew why I couldn’t.

She led us up what technically counted as a spiral staircase—despite it being hexagonal and not perfectly circular—to a suite of rooms. “His Lordship hopes you will be comfortable here,” the attendant said.

“Thank you.” A curt dismissal from Rhys. She scampered away.

Once she was gone and the doors closed, both of us relaxed. “I hate acting like that,” I muttered.

“Me too. But every High Lord puts on a face,” Rhys said. “You remember Helion. He seems terribly prickly and temperamental in public but is quite amusing and kind in private.” Rhys sat on a white sofa embroidered with sky blue winter flora and a few snowflakes.

“I do remember Helion. I also remember wishing you’d given me a warning about it. I was ready to punch him for being so rude to you.”

Rhys winked at me. “That wouldn’t have been nearly as fun,” he replied. I rolled my eyes. “Well, love, there’s nothing to do but wait until the reception. We did arrive a little early.”

“Four hours is ‘a little’?” I joked.

All I got was a shrug. “I like making statements,” he replied casually. “I arrive when I wish and I don’t care about their scheduling. Usually I would prefer to show up late to make it seem like I really don’t care about whatever it is they’ve had the courage to invite me to, but sometimes it’s more fun to arrive much earlier than planned and make that everyone else’s problem.”

I laughed. “You do a good job of making your act seamless.”

“Centuries of practice, darling.” He lounged on the sofa but patted the seat next to him. I sat beside him. It was almost warm enough inside to remove my cloak, but not quite. Rhys’ body heat was helping make up the difference. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

I grinned. “Thanks. You’re quite stunning yourself.” Black jacket, immaculately embroidered in silver and gold, deep midnight blue shirt underneath buttoned all the way up to hide his tattoos, black slacks with a single ring of silver thread around the ankles. It had taken me an hour to convince him to wear a blue shirt instead of black. But it really brought out his eyes. Dimmed the blazing, powerful violet just enough to reveal that his irises were actually blue.

“I’m always stunning,” he replied.

I smacked him in the chest with the back of my hand. “Arrogant,” I accused.

He kissed me. “You like it though.”

I rolled my eyes.

—

The ballroom was enormous. Pillars of glimmering ice reflected faelight bobbing around the ceiling. It was lightly snowing inside. Winter Court High Fae and faeries milled around, talking, eating, drinking. A line extended away from the bride and groom. Well-wishers offering their congratulations.

Rhysand wasn’t going to bother waiting in the line. I knew that. We’d approach from behind or from the other side, offer our regards, and then leave.

But not immediately.

The ballroom was warm enough that I passed my cloak to a waiting attendant. My gown was so dark violet it was almost black. A bell-shaped skirt dotted with beads in the shape of stars swished over the ice floor, lightly dusted with snow. The gown’s sleeves barely capped my shoulders, but the long black satin gloves that ended two inches from the bottom of the sleeves helped keep my arms warm. The bandeau tiara had three dark amethysts glinting among the white diamonds.

The finery wasn’t terribly comfortable, but I knew the effect it had on others.

Rhys and I wandered the ballroom, mingling only occasionally—and only if the other party dared approach us first.

Including High Lord Tamlin of the Spring Court and his charming bride-to-be, Feyre Cursebreaker. Both of them looking happy and healthy and more in love than ever.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Rhys,” Tamlin said begrudgingly. His eyes flicked over to me. I didn’t have to be daemati like Rhys to know what he was thinking. The whispers of the other faeries milling about followed me the moment we entered the room, and Tamlin was likely in agreement.

Freak. Unnatural. Witch. Lightning was not meant to be harnessed by magic like that. She doesn’t belong in any court.

I thought about snapping something at Tamlin, but Rhys cut in smoothly, “We could hardly miss an important function such as this, Tamlin.” He inclined his head at the female on Tamlin’s arm. “A pleasure to see you again, Feyre.”

“Wish I could say the same about you,” she replied dryly.

Rhys tsked, but didn’t say anything to her. “Enjoy the party,” he said to both of them instead before pulling me away. I waved at Feyre, letting an apology touch my expression. Her glare softened a moment and she lifted her fingers as though to wave back, but thought better of it.

I turned away. She’d saved Tamlin and freed the other High Lords and their courts from Amarantha. She gave Rhys back to me—and I couldn’t even give her the thanks she deserved. Electricity crackled in my veins. Rhys jolted slightly as I shocked him. No one else would have noticed.

Easy, he thought at me. What’s wrong?

I let him into an antechamber in my shields, to see what I thought and felt without having to explain. Thoughtful silence followed. We’ll find a way to let you thank her. For us both to thank her. She gave me back to you, too.

Thank you, I thought at him.

Of course. I felt a loving caress against my shields. I sent one in return.

Rhys took me through the crowd, occasionally offering greetings to the High Fae and faeries who didn’t cower as we passed. Rhys’s damper on his power had been loosened. Not released completely, but relaxed—allowing tendrils of darkness to drift from him like shafts of steam. It was an intimidation tactic. He did it a lot.

“Kallias. Viviane,” Rhys said as we approached the bride and groom. Both looked resplendent. Viviane in her simple but no doubt expensive gown that glittered like powdered snow under the moonlight. They turned to us. “Morrigan sends her regards and regrets that she couldn’t make it.” Those words were directed at Viviane. She smiled at the both of us. More warmly at me than at Rhys.

“Congratulations to you both,” I said with a genuine smile. “You deserve to be happy with one another.”

Kallias gave me a cold stare. Wondering where my calculating, ruthless High Lady mask was, no doubt. But I did want them to know that I was happy for them. That I was happy they’d found one another after Amarantha.

“Thank you,” Viviane said before Kallias could reply. She reached out and took my hand in both of hers. “And thank you for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Rhys said smoothly, smirking slightly.

“We left our gift on the table with the others,” I said softly to Viviane.

She gave me a warm grin. “Thank you. Thank you, both.”

I returned the grin and Rhys bade a curt goodbye to Kallias before we retreated back into the crowd.

“Care to dance?” I asked.

“With you? Always.” He smiled at me. For a moment I forgot we were in another court. All I could think of was him. All I could see was those blazing eyes—that lazy smile. His warmth against me.

I didn’t realize I must have been showing that on my face because he leaned down and kissed me. “The rest of tonight is going to be so much fun,” he whispered suggestively, giving me that playful smirk he always had when he knew we were both going to get what we wanted from each other before the night was over.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the Winter Court chill travelled down my spine. Excitement. “Oh, I think it will be,” I replied.

[comfy-whumpee]

Birdhouse: Blue Flowers

Whumptober Day 7: Blindness.

TW: BBU, conditioning, learned helplessness.

Taglist: @neuro-whump​, @rosesareviolentlyread​, @whumper-in-training​, @mylifeisonthebookshelf

Florence woke in the single bed with cream bedding, blue flower blossoms dotted along the brushed cotton, sunlight striping across the white ceiling from the blind over their big window that faced the garden. Only Florence and Boo got windows that faced the main garden and it was the best thing. They could look out every day as much as they wanted at the fuzzy colours of the grass and trees and flowers in their beds.

They usually woke in the daytime, after everyone else. It was the best way. Everyone was out of bed and Florence didn’t have to be alone. They climbed out of bed, pulled on the light blue robe that Avis had asked them to wear outside their room if they didn’t want to get dressed, and padded down the creaky old stairs to find the others.

The first person they saw was Roman, a shimmer of light blond hair and a pale face. They smiled vaguely in his direction and moved on. Roman was still too new and nervous to talk properly to anyone, but they knew he would eventually. Everyone was like that at first. He was brave for coming out of his room.

In the kitchen, the window over the sink let in more sunlight, and Tenten was at the sink doing the washing up. He was a figure of brown and white, with the red thing around his neck that looked like a collar. Florence smiled in his direction too and said sweetly, “Good morning.”

Tenten replied, “Good morning, Florence!” and they could hear his chipper smile. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Mm, yes please.” They pulled out a chair and sat, looking sleepily around for others. “Has everyone eaten already?”

“Yes, it-t’s gone noon,” Tenten answered, knowing that Florence couldn’t read the clock hanging above the door frame. “Break-kfast today was – jam c-croissants and summer fruit smoothies with c-c-cream.”

“Was it nice?”

“I think so.” Tenten went to the fridge, and came back with a plate and a glass that were smooth and cold and pink and brown. “T-T-Try it.”

“Thank you, Tenten.”

The glass was freezing cold but the liquid tasted nice. The plate was white, so they weren’t sure where the cream was, but the croissants were okay even though they had gone cold too. Tenten must have been having a bad day, to forget to heat them up, but Florence didn’t mind. They couldn’t cook on their own, after all.

Once they had finished eating, careful to take small bites, they took the crockery to the sink and let Tenten take them to wash. “It was nice,” they told him. From this close, they could see the big smile on his face. “Do you know where Kamala is?”

“Yes,” he said, without looking up from the water, “K-K-K, ah, K-K-kk…” He took a breath. “She’s, she’s in the glass room.”

“Thank you, Tenten.”

They wandered through the TV room, where they found Avis watching the news. “Morning, Florence, you alright?”

“Mm.” Avis was lots of pink hair and skin, and the rest changed colour. Florence didn’t stop. “I’m going to see Kamala.”

“She’s in the conservatory. Have you eaten?”

“Mm. I had croissants and pink juice.”

“Great. Remember, your piano teacher’s here in an hour.”

“Mm.”

Kamala changed colour all over, except for her face, which was always light brown. Today she was dark blue and black. She was sitting on one of the benches, smooth wood and rough cotton. She looked up, and Kamala’s smile was always easy, a big white shine. “Florence, hi.”

Florence sat down next to her and leaned against her shoulder. There was a splash of bright colour in Kamala’s lap, which meant she had been reading a comic. “Hi Kamala. How are you?”

“I am well. How are you?”

“I’m happy, thank you.”

The rehearsed words came easily from both of them, their miniature script. Kamala looked back down at her book. “I was reading.”

Kamala was incredible, for being able to read. Even if they hadn’t made it so Florence didn’t know how to read, the tiny, tiny letters were far too much for them regardless. Even seeing a few letters gave them a headache, they were so small and they never looked right. Everything was blurry every day, but it was even worse with letters.

Florence thought about this for a moment and then said, “Can you read because you have glasses?”

“Yes,” Kamala replied, sounding surprised. “My eyes aren’t very strong so Avis took me to someone who found I needed glasses.”

Florence frowned very slightly, careful not to wrinkle their brow. They had been with Avis longer than anyone else, but she had never done anything like that.

A lot of things that happened now didn’t happen when it was just Avis and Florence, though. Florence had been here first. Avis loved them the most.

“I wonder if I would look beautiful in glasses,” they mused.

Kamala reached up to her face. “You can try mine,” she offered without hesitation. Florence held up their hands, and Kamala put the glasses into them the same way as people gave Florence anything else they couldn’t get themself. They unfolded the glasses and put them on, giving then a nudge to settle them just so against the bridge of their nose.

They blinked at the twisted image, as if they had crossed their eyes. Somewhere in the kaleidoscope was a patch of grass as clear and green as one of Sir’s photographs. Florence blinked, already forgetting about the weight on their face. “Oh.”

Oh, the world really did look like the photo albums after all.

“Does it help?” Kamala asked.

There were little blue flowers in the grass around the patio and Florence could see them and their outlines and their petals and their leaves folding between the blades of grass that were so soft and cool from morning air, just like their duvet. Forget-me-nots. “I can see more now.”

“Then you should have glasses too! Oh, I’ll get Avis. She can take you to an optician, like me.” Kamala got up straight away. Kamala never lingered when she had something helpful to do.

“Wait,” Florence said, looking up. Oh, Kamala was beautiful. Not as beautiful as Florence, but she had symmetrical features and pretty long eyelashes and a wide, smiley mouth. Remembering themself, Florence pulled the glasses from their face and held them out. “You need these. I can wait.”

Hesitantly, Kamala took the glasses. “Are you sure? You could keep them.”

“They make my head hurt a little bit,” Florence admitted reluctantly.

“Okay. I’ll tell Avis. You can get some that are made just for you.”

That would be nice. To see the world like the photographs all the time. “Okay.”

But first they had piano.

[ellstersmash]

if you wanted the sun

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Pairing: Mason x Theo West Rating: T for Teen (language) Words: 1639 [Read on Ao3]

mason takes theo somewhere special, for @wayhavensummer days 5 (stargazing) + 6 (date night). extra kisses to @brightpinkpeppercorn​ for the inspiration ♥

“What the hell is this?” Theo climbs out of the passenger side. Hands shoved into her jacket pockets, she slams the door shut with one hip and stares up at the letters mounted above the building.

Mason walks up next to her. “A planetarium.”

“Wow,” she drawls. “Thanks, man. It's tough navigating the world without being able to read a fucking sign.”

He snorts and heads for the door. A wide white path, clean, lawn edged harsh and neat, leads to the entryway.

“I meant what are we doing here?”

That's not an answer he's prepared to give up, but even without it, she follows. Steps as familiar as her heartbeat right behind him, faster, then she catches up.

“They're closed,” she points out in a deadpan tone, leaning against the glass next to a list of white-etched business hours. “See? I have eyes.”

Mason glares at her wearily but she screws her face up to match, then sticks her tongue out to make him break.

And he does. He always does.

“C'mon, you little shit,” he says, and veers off the sidewalk, hugging the whitewashed walls to the back door. Metal, up a few shoddy-looking cement steps, all lit by one long loudly buzzing fluorescent bulb. A shake of the handle tells him enough: the hardware's sturdy but there's no deadbolt to break.

Grip firm, he yanks the door open.

Theo blinks, frowns, then climbs the steps. Her fingers smooth across the shredded wood around a small mangled hole where the latch strike busted free.

“Sometimes I forget you can do stuff like that,” she says, wearing an uncertain expression.

“Surprise.”

“You know, I probably could've picked that and saved the museum a buck.”

Mason shrugs and squeezes past her, swinging backward and hooking a finger in her belt loop as he passes. “In my defense, sometimes I forget you can do stuff like that.”

They wander down the hall past a few Staff Only and storage rooms and into the lobby, eyes peeled for cameras or even a cleaning crew. Despite the sheer size of it, there’s no sign of security. Probably reserved for the museum next door and all its grand exhibits and ancient artifacts, but there’s definitely some shit in here worth stealing.

Dotting the floor are embedded golden plaques with names and companies, ego-appeasers for generous donors, and at the center sits a large elegant model of the solar system. After a cursory search, Theo finds a basic-looking switch behind the membership counter that brings it to life, planets crawling their thrown race around the sun while a few moons whirl around their mother planets.

She hops onto the counter—first attempt a false start that makes her snicker, but the second takes—and thumps her sneakers against it. “Looks different than I remember it.”

Her voice is hushed, though there’s no need. Even so, it echoes around the room. Bounces off the sparkling floors and high ceilings and smooth painted walls. Follows a million paths into Mason's ears.

“Yeah?” he asks. “You come here often?”

She shakes her head, craning her neck to see all there is to see from her vantage point. “City's too far for school field trips. But I came once a few years ago. It's weird being here in the dark.”

“Want the lights on?”

“I don't know, do you want to spend the night in jail?” she shoots back, leaning forward on the heels of her palms. “Because that's how you spend the night in jail.”

Mason hums thoughtfully and approaches her perch. Theo doesn't shy back when he parts her knees to stand between them, knuckles planted on the desk beside her hands. A top-down view of long lashes as her gaze flickers to his lips.

Funny how that doesn’t get old.

“Think they'd let us bunk together?” he asks. “Because I'd be down for that.”

“Bet you would.”

It's late and she's tired, eyes all soft, blinking a little slower and staring a little long. Mason's reaching up for her before he can think about it, not that thinking about it would end any differently. Not these days. It's just more time spent not doing it, so why bother?

Fingers beneath her chin, his thumb sweeps across her lower lip—she follows it with her tongue as if trying to taste him there.

Kissing her is dangerous, but he does it anyway. Real quick, but he sinks back in like he knew he fucking would, all too ready to lose himself for just a minute in this one good thing. Her lips. Her tongue. Her hands climbing up his chest. Her eyes, blue-black, when she pulls away with a hard shake of her head that tells him she got lost, too.

“So, uh…” She clears her throat. “I'm assuming we didn't drive for three hours to break in here just to fool around on the front desk.”

“Sounds like a good time to me.” Mason grins and gives her room, throwing an arm around her shoulders once she's got her feet back on the floor. He tilts his head toward a set of double doors at the back of the lobby. “Wanna catch a show?”

The nod she gives him is almost gleeful.

Inside the theater is pitch black, doors sealed so well not even he can see. Theo digs in his pocket for his phone and the screen bathes both their faces in harsh blue light before she turns the flashlight on and the screen off.

It’s an impressive place. The domed ceiling takes up the whole upper half of the structure, stark white against the dark carpet and soundproofing and circular rows of seats. The projector in the center of the room, almost futuristic in appearance, has its own stand and accompanying instrument panel.

“That’s new,” Theo murmurs, flashlight sweeping back and forth across the panel as she inspects the various labels on each of the sliders and switches and screens.

“You know how to work this thing?”

She turns to him with an incredulous stare. “Do I—? What do I look like, some kind of A/V wizard? No, I don’t know how to work it. Do you?”

Mason looks over the panel. He flicks a switch mounted alone on the side, and the edges of the screen glow faintly as the projector whirs. 

“Lucky guess,” Theo mumbles. Reaching past him, she presses another button, and all at once Mason’s senses are slammed by light and sound and vibration. He staggers, clasping his hands over his ears.

Almost as quickly, it abates. 

“Shit!” Theo hisses through her teeth, hand soothing on his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’m fine. But let’s not do that again.”

“I think this one’s the master volume.”

She slides the knob all the way down, and they hope that means off but he braces for the worst. Thankfully, this time, it’s only the screen and without the rest, it’s not too much. Just a dizzying sky filled with pinpoints of light spinning silently above them.

“Woah,” Theo says with her eyes cast upward. 

“Well? What do you think?” Mason asks, just to hear it.

But the smile on her face is more than answer enough. She slides his phone back in his pocket and takes his hand instead. Brings his knuckles to her lips. Leads him to the rows of seats and they pick two and clamber over, Mason’s arm settling back around her shoulders. Easy.

The view abruptly changes to one of an astronaut on a spacewalk. As their tether drifts weightless around them, their feet hover above the faraway Earth, all that emptiness in between and nothing to show the scale of such an unfathomable distance.

“You know,” Theo muses, “I wanted to be an astronaut when I was younger. Well—” She gazes longingly at the scene. “Ok, longer than that.”

Mason does know. She’s mentioned it sort of in passing, before, though not as a story to be told. “What changed?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “Nothing. Got talked out of it. Bobby was going to school for journalism and wanted us to have more classes together. Said my p— Uh. My writing was ‘too good to go undeveloped.’”

That last bit is accentuated with a snide voice and finger quotes but it still sounds off. In Mason’s experience, that shithead reporter doesn't know how to give a compliment without wanting something for it.

Theo bumps her elbow into his, a sweet half-smile cutting through his growing rage. “I see that look. And you're right, it was total bullshit. He just wanted someone to carry him to graduation.”

“It’s interesting how nothing I learn about that asshole makes me not want to punch him.”

“Yeah,” and she goes so quiet. “But guess which idiot fell for it?”

Not you, he wants to say. Just... another younger stupider you.

Yeah, that won't come out right. He squeezes her hand instead.

The idea of her out there, stuffed into that suit, all that nothing between her and here, makes Mason’s chest tighten in a way he’d rather not think about. But she would love it. And she’d be incredible, he knows, brave and smart and decisive and curious.

“You could go back.”

“Maybe. Probably won't, though. I've lost so much time. And momentum. And shit, I'm too tired to sign up for twelve more years of academia. Besides, if I was up there, I wouldn't—” She shifts next to him and drums her fingers on the armrest, little echoes in Mason's skull. “You know. Wouldn't be here. Doing this.”

Fuck, her heart is so fast. Flying through beats like they're disposable. As a solar flare arcs across the ceiling, she meets his eyes for a split second, skin painted with freckles like stars, and he gets it.

[chaospanics]

⎨ FEBRUARY PLAYLIST ⎬

HUGE month. And after it all I am stanning White Lies again. Faves:

Alt-J - The Dream Animal Collective - Time Skiffs A Place To Bury Strangers - See Through You Basement Revolver - Embody Beach House - Once Twice Melody Black Dresses - Forget Your Own Face Blushing - Possessions Caroline Loveglow - Strawberry DAI DAI DAI - MAYBE PERFECT Deserta - Every Moment, Everything You Need The Body & OAA - Enemy of Love Empath - Visitor Mitski - Laurel Hell Pearly - Silver Of The Mirror Polly - Pray Pray Pray Raum - Daughter Parannoul - White Ceiling / Black Dots Wandering Around Plattenbau - Shape / Shifting Shamir - Heterosexuality Sleepy Dog - Euphoria Sonhos Tomam Conta - Insolação Trentemøller - Memoria Warstories - Warstories (January) White Lies - As I Try Not To Fall Apart 8BIT WIZRD - Blue

⎨ cover image credit ⎬

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

Can you save me from this nothing I've become?

Pairing: Kook!JJ x Pogue!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: Life Swap AU. JJ grew up as a sheltered boy in a golden cage in Figure Eight and doesn’t even have a clue how life in the Cut is like. That is until he meets you, the perfect example for life in an abusive household drowning in poverty. 

Warnings: A little bit of sadness, mentions of abuse, mostly fluffy tho

Available on: AO3

A/N: @outabanks​ asked me to write this for her so I tried. It’s a little different from anything else I’ve written so far and it was quite hard to find a tone for JJ now that he didn’t grow up in a physical abusive home and probably wouldn’t react with so much violence. I went with him feeling trapped, lonely and just sad inside due to him more suffering from emotional abuse. Also, switching POVs! Have fun!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Yes, Charlotte, I make sure to pick out my best outfit.” JJ groaned at his stepmother and went to his own bathroom to take a shower.

She was really annoying sometimes but after his mother and father divorced, he had been quick to replace her to maintain the image, dragging his mother’s name through mud in the process.

Figure Eight was a place where you grew up comfortably and never had to worry about a thing, at least on the outside.

JJ had grown up as the typical rich kid, getting everything he wanted. Problem was, he had been showered with money, not love, meaning he was missing what was most important. Back when his mother was still here, she had been the only person to show him what life really meant but she hadn’t been around for too long. Actually, he never got to know why she had left.

When Charlotte had married his father, it got even worse. Money here, fancy clothes there. She had never been a mother to him, she also never even tried as she wasn’t interested in him and only the money his dad had.

Whatever, he didn’t care about her either, he just wished she would leave him in peace once in a while but whenever he planned to go outside and do something she always came running and told him how to dress so he would look the best.

Tomorrow was another charity event and she had been stressing about the right clothes for weeks and he wouldn’t have any of it.

JJ got out of the shower with a sigh, towel around his waist and hair still dripping a little on the floor beneath him. He knew he had a good life, technically but sometimes he wondered how it felt to be a normal kid, growing up downtown or the Cut. He had never been down there actually, only heard that people from the Cut were poor but in comparison to the people from Figure Eight, poor couldn’t be too bad, right?

The reason he had never been down there was his father. He might look like the perfect father on the outside but on the inside, he was rotting away, fueled by his addiction for money and a wealthy lifestyle. One wrong step and JJ would suffer, in either emotional and very rarely physical way.

He was trapped in a golden cage he couldn’t escape until he was old enough which would still take a few more years. He just had to hold on, pretend to like his life when they were in public and just be done with it.

“We’re off then, son. See you tomorrow!” his father yelled from downstairs as JJ got dressed in some loser clothes so he could enjoy his time home alone.

“Yeah, have fun,” he said nonchalantly, not really caring about them leaving to visit the Cameron’s to talk about some preparations for tomorrow.

When he heard the front door shut he let out a sigh of relief and lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. They wouldn’t be back until past midnight, that’s always how it went.

It was the perfect time to think about how lonely he actually was. His parents divorced, his mother not even calling or writing him, his dad only caring about money and his new wife. Friends? Sadly none. Kook Academy wasn’t the place where he wanted to be and he had a hard time blending in. It was a place where everyone was so narcissistic and wanted to show off all they had. Also really competitive people. Who had the bigger car, who had the more expensive outfit, things like that.

The only person he rarely talked to at events was Kiara, a wealthy girl from the neighborhood next to his own. He heard that she was hanging around with the Pogues in the Cut but he never asked her about it. They mostly just saw each other, nodded briefly and started drinking together. He listened to her rambling about saving turtles in a drunken state later on while he made flirty comments she always shut down very quickly. It was a simple way to pass the time while trying to get through the evening.

His father told him to befriend the Cameron’s but to be honest? No. Wheezie was just a little girl, Sarah was the princess around here and he had no desire to walk around with royalty and get judged by only that. Rafe was a dick, he had actually tried to befriend him when they were younger but that boy had massive issues.

So yep, loneliness it was. On the outside, his life was perfect but on the inside he was struggling. One day he would escape, go to the mainland and do his own thing. He wanted to get far away from Outer Banks and his father, all these riches he had. There was enough money on his own bank account to help him get started but JJ wanted to work with his own hands, get dirty, live the life he wanted.

Suddenly he heard a crash in the front yard and he shot up from his bed, opening the door to his balcony and looked outside, trying to see something in the darkness. It took a moment for his eyes to get used to the missing light before he scanned the garden. A vase was shattered to the left and to the right…

Shit!

Someone was face down in their pool and it looked like they weren’t moving.

JJ rushed downstairs and to the garden, quickly jumping in to get the person out. He put the body down next to the pool, slapping the cheek slightly. Luckily enough he had been quick enough and the person was waking up, spitting out a little bit of water.

“I don't think it’s the best time to take a swim,” he said while he sat there on his knees, looking over at the girl that couldn’t be older than he was.

She wasn’t answering, just looking at him for a moment before closing her eyes again, passing out once more.

    When you woke up, you had no idea where you were. The bed under you felt softer than your own and you had a huge headache. Also, you were wearing comfortable clothes for some reason. Still a dream? Maybe.

You slowly opened your eyes, afraid that feeling of warmth would be gone now but it didn’t vanish. As you were looking around you noticed a boy on the ground, wrapped in a blanket and you blinked. 

Looking down at your body told you that you were totally not wearing your own clothes. These were really fine and soft, it almost felt like they were giving you a warm hug.

It took awhile for you to connect the dots but then your face turned white. The boy on the ground had seen you naked.

“Perv!” you suddenly yelled and threw the pillow behind you at him which caused him to stir.

“What the fuck,” he mumbled and got up and for the first time, you got a good look at these blue eyes and the messy, blonde bed hair. “This is what I get for saving your ass?”

Saving your ass? You frowned and now that you thought about it, you had no idea what had happened last night after you ran away from home. You knew you had been drinking to try and stop the pain but then it all went black.

“What do you mean?” you asked and tilted your head a little to the side like a lost puppy.

“Apparently you were either really fond of having a swim or trying to drown yourself in my pool,” he said while he got up, stretching and showing off his body to you. Of course he was not wearing a shirt, why would he. It was too hot for that anyway. He was too hot. Shit, focus!

“I wasn’t drowning myself,” you said even though you wished that had worked.

Silence fell over you for a moment while he just stood there, looking at your miserable form before he rubbed the back of his neck and looked clearly uncomfortable.

“Look, I’ve seen the bruises…,” he started and you looked back at him, clenching your jaw. Of course he had seen the bruises, he had seen you naked and they were quite visible all over your body.

“It’s nothing. Where are my clothes? I want to leave.” You didn’t want to stay here and talk to a stranger that apparently saved you from drowning. Oh. That was probably why you were wearing different clothes, he had taken care of them so you wouldn’t get a cold. Well, not exactly the first thought you had but thank god you still had your virginity.

“Do you need help?” he asked softly and crouched in front the bed which caused you to frown. No one had ever asked you that. It took a long moment before you shook your head.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You nodded and got out of bed which made him stand up again. He was taller than you were and you bit your bottom lip while looking around in his room some more. This was clearly not the Cut. This looked like a Figure Eight house. Oh god, had you wandered that far?

“Can I make you breakfast at least? My parents are still asleep,” he said and you chewed on your lip a little before you nodded. Your stomach was dying inside as you hadn't eaten in two days because your aunt prefered to let you starve while she spent all her money on alcohol and drugs. You wished your parents were still alive but that wasn’t an option.

“Alright, wait here, I’ll bring you some up.” With that he was already gone and you went back under the soft blanket. If you would stand up more your head was probably going to explode and you would fall due to it’s spinning non stop. Laying down was good. Sitting upright a little was good too.

You had never seen this boy before which wasn’t a surprise given that you had been to Figure Eight only one or two times with Kiara. The Pogues were the only reason to get out of bed in the morning but currently, they were all doing their own thing which was fine but also made you sad a little.

The blonde boy was up quicker than you thought and he put the tray down on your legs with a smile.

“I’m JJ, by the way,” he said as he grabbed the chair from his desk and rolled it over, taking one of the plates from the try to put some food on it.

You blinked at all the food in front of you and you were sure you hadn’t seen that many at once, at least not something you were allowed to eat. Bread buns, scrambled egg, different kinds of sausages and grapes. He must have noticed how skinny you were.

“I’m (y/n),” you simply said while staring at the food, not even sure if you could eat but when you looked at him eating and he smiled at you, you couldn’t stop yourself.

It was a feast for you. Did he always have breakfasts like that? God, what a lucky person.

“Nice to meet you, (y/n). Wanna tell me now why you were swimming in my pool at midnight?” he asked and grinned a little. He wanted to get details but he didn’t want to completely ruin the mood, something you could appreciate.

You didn’t know him and you weren’t easily trusting a person but he saved you, made you breakfast and you would probably never see him again, so you kinda owed him, right? Also he had already seen the bruises and given all the books he had in his room, he seemed to be a smart boy that had figured it all out on his own already.

“I was trying to get away from life,” you mumbled with your mouth full and he raised an eyebrow at that. “Got beat up, didn’t eat for two days, ran away to drink the pain away and then it went all black but it seems like I wanted to get a look at a life I’ll never have and then I somehow ended up in your pool. I wasn’t trying to drown myself, I promise.”

Well, the mood he had been trying to maintain was totally ruined by your words now. You spoke them so casually like they were no big deal but you saw how his eyes widened and he stopped eating while you still continued. Yes, your life was pure shit but it would be okay one day. One day you’d get out of your aunt’s death grip and get the life you deserved.

“I-,” he started but didn’t seem to be able to finish so you waved off. 

“It’s fine. It happens. Something you can’t understand, no offense.” He was living a good life full of privileges and riches, of course he wouldn’t understand what you went through and that was okay. You didn’t want his pity, he didn’t seem to care about people at the Cut anyway. 

“I might not understand your life but you obviously don’t understand my life either,” he chuckled and took some grapes to eat. You raised both eyebrows at him, what did he mean? Apparently he could read the face you were making and continued. “Life here isn’t all that great either. I may not suffer from a lot of physical abuse but emotional one. Being rich isn’t always good, ya know.”

“I’d kill for being rich,” you blurted out and it made him laugh. He had a beautiful laugh but it also sounded really sad for some reason.

“Yeah, that’s probably how a lot of people here became rich.” That made you laugh too, he was probably right. You knew a few Kooks that looked like they had killed for their wealth.

You both ate in silence and when you were done, he put the tray away to look at you with a look that you couldn’t quite place.

“Where are my clothes?” you asked to break the stare and he nodded.

“I’ll get them, one second,” he said and walked over into a room which was...his bathroom? God, he even had his own bathroom. What the fuck.

JJ came out with them again and they looked so much cleaner than before. “Did you wash them?” you asked because it didn’t look like it was just the pool water.

“Yeah, they looked like they needed it,” he said and put them over the bed. When you grabbed them you felt how soft they were now after the cleaning and you smiled a little to yourself. They also smelled really good.

You got out of the bed and pressed past him into the bathroom so you could get changed. When you came out of it again you felt old and new at the same time. Thankfully, the headache was slowly fading away.

“Alright, thanks for saving me, I’ll be off then,” you exclaimed as you had occupied him enough now. He already knew more about you than a stranger should and you had to get out of here before he tried to play your savior.

You had already a hand at the doorknob when he reached out to you, grabbing your arm to stop you from leaving. Of course he had to do that.

“I know this isn’t any of my business but if you ever need help, come here, okay? I’ll try my best,” he said and normally you would huff at such an offer as you had been disappointed so many times in your life but for some reason, he sounded so absolutely genuine that you nodded. You believed him but you also had no desire to get back here any time soon. Figure Eight wasn’t the place you wanted to be, it only reminded you of what could have been but wasn’t.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he let go of you.

    Two weeks had passed and he couldn’t get the girl out of his head. There had been something that made him want to save her even though she seemed to be the kind of girl that didn’t want saving. 

Something deep inside of him was screaming at him to find you and that’s exactly what he did right now. His father would kill him but he didn’t care anymore. It was like there was a strange bond that was pulling him closer to you and away from the life he didn’t want.

The Cut was different than he had expected. During his sheltered life, downtown had been the only area he had visited, it was almost like an invisible wall that his father had placed here, not allowing him to go any further. As a kid he had been curious about it but after a while of useless attempts to convince his father he had given up on getting to know the rest of the island.

He couldn’t say why he didn’t try again now that he was older. Maybe he really wasn’t interested anymore after all those years. Maybe it was his father’s voice that was echoing in his head the closer he got to that invisible wall.

Until he broke through it. He drove past that magical line that had kept him and suddenly he saw what was really going on. They weren’t just a little less fortunate than the people from Figure Eight. His dad had lied to him and he felt sick for a moment.

He drove past small shacks, some looking like they would get blown away by the next storm. They were just poor and lived in poverty. Well, maybe not all of them but the further he drove away from the downtown area the more sad and wild it looked around him. There was also a strange feeling of freedom to it, he couldn’t really describe it.

Figure Eight was all beautiful houses and big mansions, perfectly cut grass, cars and pools. Everything had to be perfect but this? Lots of people didn’t care about their grass, he saw some old cars and trucks, some people had a small boat but nothing compared to the yacht his father owned. It was so different and he hated himself for never coming here. When did he become such an ignorant person?

Something suddenly jumped out of the bushes to the right and he hit the breaks, barely stopping in front of the person who was standing right in front of his car, looking straight at him.

“What the fuck?!” the girl yelled and he would always recognize that voice, it had almost burned into his soul. She was so different from everything he knew. Looks like the string that was pulling him had reached its destination.

    Great, now some idiot tried to run you over while you were busy running away from Barry. This couldn’t get any worse. You were about to keep running when you saw who got out of the car. It was the blonde pretty boy with the sad eyes from Figure Eight that you kept dreaming about for the last two weeks. A wink of destiny? Either way, it looked like he was your escape.

JJ got out of the car and smiled at you, slowly coming over to you, probably wanting to make sure you were okay but he barely scraped you. 

“JJ?” you asked in disbelief and he chuckled a little. It was weird to see him here, out of place, so far away from home.

“If I wouldn’t know any better I’d say you tried to get him by a car this time,” he said and laughed when he saw you glare. You really didn’t have time for this bullshit. Yes, being dead would be better sometimes given your circumstances but right now you’d prefer to prevent that.

You threw a look behind you and then back at him. “In the car,” you hissed and shoved him back to his side of the car while you got in on the other side.

“Drive,” you said and looked out to the right side where you had been coming from but he looked at you confused.

Barry came out of the bushes and you turned around to JJ in a split second, pressing your lips against his, hoping to make Barry think that it was just a rich couple that came down here to make out. He wasn’t the brightest candle on the cake after all.

When you saw him leave out of the corner of your eye you sighed into the kiss but only slowly moved away. JJ’s lips felt good, pressed against yours like it was the only thing he had ever wanted.

Reality hit and you pulled back, swallowing slightly. “Sorry uhm...just needed to distract that guy,” you mumbled and licked your lips, still tasting him.

“What was that about?” he asked and seemed a little dumbfounded by the sudden kiss.

“I was running from our local drug dealer,” you explained like it was the most normal thing to do. Maybe you had stolen him some money but you only wanted food and you knew where he stored it so you might as well just borrow it. For a very long time.

“You could have just hidden on the backseat, you know,” he teased and wiggled his eyebrows which caused you to slap him slightly against the shoulder.

“It was a distraction kiss, nothing else. Don’t let it get to your head,” you said ang took a deep breath when you felt your body relax.

“What now? Any place I can drive you to?” he suddenly asked and you looked over at him, thinking for a moment. You’d be safe with John B and the others as you wanted to meet up later anyway. You nodded and gave him some quick directions.

“So, what are you doing here?” you asked and watched him drive. He had such a pretty face if those eyes wouldn’t be so sad. You wondered why he was like that, he had everything you could wish for and yet, he was still so sad.

“Actually, I was looking for you. I also had never been down to the Cut, my father always keeping me from it so I wanted to take a look.” His voice was so smooth and you had the urge to just press your lips against his once more.

What the fuck was going on in your head? God, that needed to stop, he was a Kook after all. No good came from them.

“Why were you looking for me?” It was beyond you why he would come here only to find you. You were just some girl he had saved from her own stupidity. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny that you hoped to see him again shortly after you had left his place back then. There had been something about him that was pulling you closer and those dreams you had weren’t for nothing. He was special in a way you couldn’t describe just yet.

“I don’t know, to be honest. I just had the feeling I had to,” he said and it confirmed your feelings. He also didn’t really know what he was doing here, just like you didn’t know why you wanted him here.

It was a strange connection that had formed within a couple of hours two weeks ago, a connection that didn’t break. Normally people meet other people, establish some kind of relationship between them. Acquaintances, friends, work colleagues, stuff like that. Sometimes you just meet a stranger, talk to them and then break the connection off.

That’s what you thought this would be but the connection was still there, it was deep in your bones and your mind.

Stupid Kook, about to turn your world around.

You arrived at the Chateau where John B was already coming over before JJ could turn the motor off. He obviously wasn’t used to such cars arriving at his place, that’s why you got out first.

“It’s me!” you yelled and JB visibly relaxed before taking another look at the car and the boy coming out of there.

“Who’s that?” he asked and frowned at you but you just waved off. 

“That’s JJ. He saved me, two times to be exact. He’s cool.” You waved JJ over and he followed you step to John B. You gave him a quick hug and then saw how JJ held out his hand.

You glared at John B and he groaned slightly before shaking JJ’s hand.

“I don’t know why you’d bring a Kook here,” he grumbled and you hit his arm slightly.

“I told you, he is cool. He’s pool boy.” You might have mentioned that accident to your friends without any names or mentioning that your blonde savior was a Kook. Oops.

“Pool boy?” a female voice said while coming out of the house and you waved at Kie.

“Kiara?” JJ suddenly said and looked over at her, watching how she stopped in her tracks. You looked between the two of them forth and back.

“JJ?” Yup, they totally knew each other.

“Donkey?” you threw in and laughed a little at your Shrek reference, causing the others to laugh too.

“You know each other?” John B said in choir and the both nodded.

“Yeah, he’s the guy that keeps me grounded at all the Kook events. We drink and make it through the night somehow. He’s cool,” Kiara explained and JJ nodded in agreement.

“See, told you,” you teased John B and he just rolled your eyes. He sometimes acted like a big brother when he wasn’t drowning in his own shit.

“Are you staying? I know what it feels like to be a Kook, so I might as well show you my escape”, Kiara said and JJ rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

You laughed a little because he seemed so out of place right now but you could tell he probably needs an escape from life once in a while.

“Okay, show me,” JJ said and you grinned at him. It was a reckless thing to do, taking a Kook in but technically, Kiara was one too and if she and JJ got along, he would also get along with Pope and John B. It might just take a while but it would be okay.

There was this feeling inside of you that was telling you to help him, to make his eyes look sad and to hear a genuine laugh from him.