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wood-white-writer · 6 months

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"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [6/...]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“On sunny days I go out walking, I end up on a tree-lined street. I look up at the gaps of sunlight. I miss you more than anything."

— Mitski, "Francis Forever"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. The crew arrives at the Baratie, and several things go down in a matter of hours. Decisions are made, both stupid and not so stupid. Old and new faces come back into your life, and unable to deal with the events in Orange Town, you handle it in the worst best way possible: through the bottle.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, alcoholic indulgence on a catastrophic scale (drink responsibly ppl), blackouts, morally grey reader, violence, mentions of everyone (marine, fish people, pirates, etc.) having a past beef with Reader/"Cross-Hairs", Buggy POV in the end,

A/N: So, since this chapter was delayed, I think it compensates due to the fact that it is approximately 7k words long. The chapter jumps a little between the events of the Baratie, but there's a reason for that: the reason being that the Reader is shitfaced for most of the time during this chapter. Also, shout out to @ay0nha for putting up with my rambles during this period, really appreciate it XD

It hurts. Everything hurts. That’s the first thing he feels.

His feet, his back, his torso, but especially his head. It’s like a hamster is running on a wheel inside the bones in his skull, squeaking, chirping, driving him insane from the inside.

The wheel is pounding, and pounding until all he wants is to chuck that fucking hamster into–

“Hey, he’s waking up!”

Shanks? Why is he in his head? Fuck, he takes it back. The hamster can stay, rent-free, for as long as it fucking wants to, as long as it isn’t fucking Shanks—

“Buggy?”

On second thoughts, that voice doesn’t strike any sense of irritation with him. In fact, he finds it comforting, like the morning sun shining atop the ship deck. He doesn’t mind listening to that.

“Buggy?”

His eyes open, and he thinks he's seeing the sun for the first time. The sun and the moon, in fact, at the same time. Golden, blinding, warm, and cold, but he wants to watch them until his vision turns white and all sense of sight abandons him.

It’ll suck to be blind, but damn, what a hell of a way to go.

The more he stares, however, the more everything else falls back into place. He realizes it’s not suns he’s staring at, but two sharp eyes and a concerned face that makes him feel just as warm.

He’s in a bed, he finally discovers. There’s a pillow under his head, a fresh sheet up until his midsection which strangely smells of vinegar, inside a room he just now remembers is the Oro Jackson’s de-facto ‘infirmary’ which really is just an old storage space that was refurnished when they first got the ship.

There’s something wrapped around his head, tight but not too tight that it’s squeezing. It’s been done by precise and sturdy hands; a professional, someone who knows what they’re doing.

He blinks once, then twice, and everything around him finally settles. Including everyone perched around the bed.

“Ah, Buggy, my lad!” It’s hard not to recognize the booming voice of his captain, who proceeds to lean over him with his hands pressed around his biceps until the massive mustache trickles his chin. “Thought you were a goner for a moment!”

He kind of wishes he was one because the strength of Gol D. Roger is not to be underestimated. His ribs squeeze and it's hard to breathe, but out of respect for his captain, all that leaves his throat is a guttural groan that he hopes conveys the message clearly enough.

Gol D. promptly removes himself from his poor apprentice with his hands raised, and when he steps back, Shanks takes his place next to the bed. “Gods, Buggy! What were you thinking? You could’ve been killed! Rayleigh said you were lucky it was just a concussion!”

That’s when it dawns on him. Riiight, there was a scuttle. Some asshole pirates trying to ambush them, they picked the wrong fucking targets. Some … guy was flying over him? Did that happen, or was it just a fever dream?

He remembers kicking someone in the balls, and then … and then …

Lightning. Making its way for him as the darkness embraced his vision. A line of gold, straight as a sword, narrowing in on him.

Did it catch him before the darkness did?

He hopes so.

“Lay off me, will ‘ya!” he shouts at his friend, trying to get up. However, the fucking hamster wheel in his head keeps spinning until he settles back down against the pillow. “I was doing good!”

“Yeah, until you weren’t!” Shanks disputes and grabs his fellow apprentice by the collar of his sleeve. “I told you to fucking move, but it’s like you spaced out! She had to carry you all the way back here with your head all bleeding!”

Carry him?

He glances at you, finally. You’re sitting there, hunched slightly over the bed with those eyes looking at him, and he’s thinking you fucking carried him? It’s not that he’s ashamed, not at all, but if anything, he was always hoping the roles were switched.

He’d be the one carrying you. With your strength, he imagined it would be quite the weight to uphold, but he would do it. For you, he would move the seas if he could, Devil Fruit or not.

“Buggy, are you alright?”

You’re the one talking this time. Not the captain, nor Shanks, just you. The lighting is here, and he feels his skin prick. It’s electric. Cold. Warm. All and nothing combined. He could listen to it – feel it – for hours, days, maybe even years without ever growing weary of it.

He puts on his best brave face and scoffs, forcing his arms to cross themselves despite the surge of aches that rush through his body doing so. “Of course I’m alright! I’m Buggy! I bounce back, always!”

“Still,” your hands fall on top of his, and he feels his body freeze. “I was worried.”

“’Worried’?” Shanks cackles and gestures to you with his thumb over his shoulder. “You should’ve seen the damage she left behind. The entire place was smithereens, I tell you, Buggy! She knocked over those assholes like frickin’ chessboard pieces!”

“What did I always tell you?” Gol D. slams a hand on top of your shoulder, knocking you slightly forward. “She’s got eyes sharp enough to cut through steel, and pirates too, apparently.”

You laugh awkwardly. “I didn’t cut through them, really. I just … knocked them a little over.”

Shanks cackles. “Don’t be humble. You should’ve seen the guy who knocked you out. I swear, none of his bones were where they were supposed to be. He won’t be walking, or doing much of anything, ever again.”

Buggy can imagine it, but also not. He looks at you now, and he sees his concerned friend with those kind eyes that contain both the sun and the moon. He’s always known you’re strong – the strongest person he knows of save for his captain, but not unkind. Not cruel. Not sadistic.

Yet, if what Shanks just said carries any weight, it confirms what he’s always known.

You’re a beast, and beasts only follow their prime instincts. They don’t allow others to harm what or who they consider theirs.

And it means that you consider him yours.

Maybe in a different way than he’d prefer, maybe in a way that’s different from the kind he harbors towards you, but it still confirms he’s yours.

He will never want to find himself on the opposite side of that. Of you. Never you.

When he looks at you again, looks down at where your hand is pressed on top of his, he takes it in his own.

“I’m fine,” he finally says, his lip tugging in what is supposed to be a smile. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, though.”

You chuckle softly, and he smiles. Fuck, how can he not? He remembers it all so clearly. The way your dimples are shaped, the length of your hair, the soft tint of your lips.

“You? Never.” You finally say. “Never you”

---

You reflect on how it's weird that some things change whereas others don't.

Flowers prosper and bloom and die. The sun ascends, stays up for a few hours, then descends back into the horizon.

Friendships grow strong, stay strong, then they aren't.

Some things change, some don't.

Baratie being among the latter.

It's bright enough inside to momentarily blind you, just like it was a little over ten years ago. Save for new faces with the employees and some design choices, the overall place has stayed the same.

There are people there of prestigious backgrounds - both pirate and not - and you think of how receptive the restaurant must've been to make both parts come together without any regular scuttles.

A neutral ground for all to come and enjoy the feast. Well, that is the principle, but not everyone abides by it.

It’s been a while since you last visited the establishment, and last time, you were banned for life.

Frankly, you don’t recall much of the events; too drunk on rum at the time.

What you do remember is that it involved a few broken bottles of Baratie’s finest wine, some mashed-up furniture, and cutlery, a rival captain who wouldn’t take a “fucking get lost” for a “no”, and it ended with you standing surrounded by a bunch of broken bodies of your own making.

Needless to say, Zeff was pissed.

More than pissed, actually. He was fuming.

He probably still is.He has a thing for grudges if he’s still alive.

Maybe … Just maybe the old man’s chewed off something more than his leg and kicked the bucket? That’d be a sight to see considering he only has one remaining foot.

"My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?"

The waiter - Sanji - is fine, not going to lie. A good fighter, too, if his little display seconds ago is a testament to that. A bit too young for your preference, with a nose too small, and hair too bright and blonde. Not quite blue colorful enough.

All in all, not a bad look at all. Just for the aesthetics, though. A solid 7/10, you conclude.

"One of everything, please!" Luffy requests enthusiastically.

For whatever reason, Sanji does not seem to share your general affinity for the restaurant. That’s odd. Most people who work here tend to boast about their occupation in the famed restaurant.

Though, if you have to make a guess, Zeff is likely a contributing factor behind that disdain. He’s tough on people, even tougher if he likes someone.

As discontented as Sanji seems, however, it does not keep him from trying to withhold his flirtatious demeanor with Nami. A Casanova, it looks like. Funny.

"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?" Zoro asks, fed up with the one-sided dalliance going on between your shipmate and the waiter.

"Two beers!” Usopp promptly adds. “though, I usually have three."

"And one milk!" Luffy chimes in.

"Three beers and a milk," Sanji notes. His eyes land on you, and that signature smile falls to his lips. "And for the ladies?"

You’re already here, you think to yourself. Why not make the most of it? For nostalgia’s sake.

"A bottle of Baratie's Finest," you request, your chin resting in your palm. "Not the kind you keep for customers, though. Pick one from Zeff's private stash, if you can afford to smuggle it past his bushy nose?"

"A classy beverage for a classy lady, I see." A mischievous glimmer shines in his eyes and smile. "Although that stash is off-limits, what kind of a man would I be if I refused a lady her desired beverage?”

You tilt your head a fraction to the side. "I'm sure he won't mind. At his age, he needs to watch his liver."

"That is true,"

Quite frankly, everything else evades your attention the second the waiter arrives with your order. Sanji brings you your meals, and your pricey bottle of Baratie's Finest, and it’s the Red Apple edition.

Perfect.

You eat, and eat, and drink, and then drink some more, not even stopping to concern yourself with the price tag.

The food at the Baratie's has not been in decline when it comes to quality above all else. It's delicious, and not a lot of places have earned that kind of claim in your life.

The food is good, but the drinks are ethereal.

One glass turns into two, and two promptly becomes three. So forth, and so forth. Anything to dull the tightness lodged in your chest.

A tightness that has not left you alone in the past couple of weeks.

You've developed a pretty good tolerance over the years, and after several more units, you begin to feel the tickle on the edge of your hands. Baratie’s Finest indeed.

After five, the feeling settles on the tip of your spine.

After seven, you start to wonder what went wrong. It's a dangerous area to indulge in, especially if liquor is involved, but you don’t stop.

What went wrong?

What did you do wrong?

In another life, you would've traveled the world with them, doing nothing but drinking, fighting, exploring together.

Instead, you’re here, drinking with a crew yet still feeling like the loneliest asshole in the world. It’s not your crew.

You lose a smidgen of focus, and in the grand specter of things, focus is something you could do well with less off.

You can afford to think less, feel less, and know less. Life has been full of ups and downs, and quite frankly, you've grown weary of it all.

Fuck, maybe Luffy’s onto something? Maybe you are sad?

… Nah.

Once Zoro orders another beer, you go as far as to share your bottle with him. His face scrunches at the taste and he coughs several times, but he admits that it’s good.

As you sit there on the edge of the couch, sipping your beverage and tasting your food, Sanji arrives to collect the bill. You know Luffy doesn’t have a berry to his name yet, and so you wonder how long it'll take before Zeff notices.

More specifically, how long it’ll take him before he realizes he's missing something from his private collection?

“Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?!”

Speak of the Chief… and he shall appear.

This time, you do not interfere when Luffy attempts to bargain for his lack of cash. You simply sit back and observe.

As much as Luffy tries, he does not have the words or mind suited for this kind of business yet. It’s Capitalism at its finest.

“You eat, you pay!”

Thoughts and dreams can only get you so far in life, but at the Baratie, it’s coin.

When Zeff grabs Luffy by the front of his shirt, the chief's eyes turn to you, and holy hell, is he furious.

“And what in the blazing hell are you doing here?!"

“Zeff,” You greet him and raise your beverage his way, a tilted smirk on your face. "It’s been too long."

"Not long enough! I thought I told you to get fucking lost last time? The damages you did cost a fortune!"

“In my defense, it was the other guys that started it.”

He gives you such a dirty look that his jaws clench. “Don’t give a shit. Why are you here?”

You twirl the bottle around in your hand. "Just enjoying the ambiance, as always. I was in the area, and so how could I pass up the chance to try your scrumptious meals again? Or drinks, for that matter?"

On cue, you raise your - or rather his - bottle closer up to him.

It’s stupid, the rational part of your brain argues. One does not fuck around with the Chief of the Baratie, but among the few joys you have left in life, this remains one of them.

His eyes narrow in on the bottle and there he is.In the blink of an eye, he snaps it out of your hand with such fast precision that you're almost caught off-guard.

Zeff narrows in on the mostly empty flask like it's personally insulted him and his entire lineage. “Where did you get this?"

"It was on the menu."

"It sure as shit was not! How could you—" He freezes like a thought suddenly dawned on him, and if a man can become purple from anything other than oxygen deprivation, Zeff's current mood is the closest thing to it. "Sanji. Why that snot-nosed, little—! ... When I get my damn hands on him."

It seems that whatever vendetta Zeff has towards his employee, it outweighs the one he has for you tenfold, which says something. Without another word, he yanks Luffy by the scruff and all but drags him with him to the kitchen.

Ordinarily, you would’ve intervened on behalf of your captain, but with Zeff now preoccupied, it’s your chance to rob the bar of a few more beverages.

And in your dictionary, “a few” is the equivalent of “a shitton”.

"Wow," Usopp murmurs with a low whistle. "That guy really hates your guts."

"What are you talking about? I’m his favorite customer." You raise what remains in your glass to them. “Anyone want another one?”

"I do," Nami relents.

Zoro laughs, probably for the first time since you’ve met him. "Now you're talking."

Maybe, just maybe, you’re beginning to like these people.

With a couple more drinks, maybe you’ll be able to tell.

———

“You know, I kind— I kinda assumed you were an asshole when we first met?”

Usopp’s struggling to stand on his feet, legs bent slightly forward as he makes a half-assed attempt at ordering another drink. You can’t tell if the bartender is electively ignoring him or not, and truth be told, you don't blame the guy if the former applies.

Between the two of you, you’re more adept when it comes to dealing with liquor. Sure, your lips are a little looser now and the bright lights are starting to hurt your eyes, but all in all, you’re not even half as drunk as you want to be.

Seriously, fuck me sometimes. You just had to go all out when you were younger. Days and nights spent pouring bottle after bottle left your liver hardened rather than weakened.

Now, because of the high tolerance you stupidly developed, it's come here to bite you in the ass and keep you from getting wrecked.

“Oh?” Your sarcasm couldn't be any more discernible than it is now as you eye your crew mate. “What made you reach that conclusion?”

Usopp twirls around, horribly off-balanced, and slaps a hand over your shoulder.

A little too personal for your liking, but you let it slide for now.

“I mean, for starters, you—,” he hiccups. “You always have that look about you. Like someone just pissed in your ale.”

You give him an unimpressed but vaguely piqued once-over. “Descriptive. Go on,”

“And soso— And so I and the guys are wondering if you’re like that because some clown broke your heart or—,” he hiccups again. “Or some— something? Did he piss in your ale?”

You shrug his hand off at once. You don’t want to think about him, now least of all. "No.”

Not even a second later, his arm his back over your shoulder and he leans closer. It's probably meant as a comforting gesture, but given how absolutely wasted he looks, you perceive it with a grain of salt.

"Y-You can tell the great Capt— I mean, the Great Usopp, alright? We've all been there before, I—I'm ssssure. I mean, Zoro doesn't strike me as much of a ladies' man, but he's probably got stories, too."

The bartender finally stops by and leaves a beer bottle in front of you on the table, completely ignoring your companion, and disappears to make his next rounds.

You take the flask and flick the cork off with your thumb. "Well, if you really want to help, —"

You turn around so that your back hits the bar counter, twirl Ussop around with the guidance of your hand and shove him lightly towards where Nami and Zoro are sitting. "— Talk to the others first about their heartbreaks."

If he wants to object, he's too drunk to for it. Instead, he recollects his limited stance and all but wobbles over to the corner where your other companions are seated.

He’s their problem now, but it’ll be an interesting display.

You recline against the bar counter to chug your beverage in peace when a voice suddenly speaks up from next to you.

“I thought you were retired.”

With how loud the music is, it might have slipped your notice completely. Then again, the owner of said voice has always had that thing about him.

He could whisper, and the entire room would’ve heard.

You glance up at your side, and you’re halfway tempted to smile when you see who it is.

“It’s been a while, Hawk-Eyes.”

Everything from the feather on his hat to the cross around his neck and the pointy way his beard is trimmed has stayed the same. Not a scar, a bruise, or blemish to spot on him.

In ten years, he looks to have aged only one. Some people are fortunate in terms of youth, and you would definitely consider Dracule Mihawk one of them.

“Cross-Hairs.” He inclines his head to you, a silent courtesy reserved only for those whose company he tolerates. “I believed you abandoned your life behind the mast years ago.”

You take another generous gulp from your bottle before you respond. "So did I, but life finds a way, doesn't it?"

"Indeed." He peeks over his shoulder to where your companions are seated, his countenance less than impressed. Then again, that's just his face by default, so hard to tell with him. "And last we met, you were a Captain."

"Last time we met, you almost cut my right arm off." For emphasis, you pull back your sleeve to show off the straight scar that separates your upper arm from the rest. It's faded, old, and never noticeable unless you decide to wear anything short-sleeved, but it's there all the same.

He doesn't apologize. Of course, he wouldn't. Instead, he raises his sparse glass of wine to you. "Nothing personal."

You raise your bottle to him in turn. "Of course not,"

Clink!

You drink your respective beverages in companionable silence. However, even with your halfway inebriated state of mind, you can't help but think of the reasons for his presence.

You have your suspicions, and you're not shy about voicing them.

"This isn't your usual scenery." You say. “What makes one of the great Warlords of the Sea seek out a place such as this? Business or pleasure?"

"Business," he answers curtly, as though he'd prefer to do anything but. "I'm looking for a captain."

“It’s not Shanks, I take it?”

“No, it’s not. It’s a captain by the name of Luffy.”

It doesn't surprise you. It should, but it doesn’t.

The lengths the vice-admiral is willing to go to retrieve his grandson, which apparently includes hiring a Warlord to do so, doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. Unbreakable willpower is a family trait, after all, if you've learned anything from Luffy.

It wouldn’t suffice with a gun; he had to send the entire fucking arsenal.

Still, at least it’s Mihawk of all people. It shouldn’t be a source of relief, but had it been anyone else, be it Kuro or Axe-hand or Bu-...

Your fingers subconsciously dig into the fragile, empty bottle you’re holding.

The point is, had it been anyone else, you would've intervened. You have intervened, several times by now, but not tonight.

Tonight, you're here to drink and forget, then drink some more. You don’t have the sobriety to worry about much of anything anymore.

"Garp must truly be at his wit's end if he employs you for his endeavors." Once you retrieve the bottle at your disposal, you pluck off the cap and swirl it lazily in your hand. The lights from the bar dance around the transparently brown rim, like a shooting star with no exit and no entrance to the rest of the universe. Forever stuck. "Seems excessive to send you of all people after something so seemingly simple."

"From what I've heard, this particular quarry is something of a wildcard."

"If you’re here, I’m sure of it."

Mihawk tilts his chin up, eyeing you curiously in your peripheral vision. "Are you saying that you're acquainted with this Luffy?"

"I'm saying no such thing. It's just mere speculations on my part." Another fistful of alcohol travels down your esophagus. "You're only employed when it's truly serious, and the vice-admiral is known for only getting involved in those kinds of matters. It adds up, is all I’m saying."

“I hardly consider it dire. It's more a means of killing some time on my part." He does not take his eyes off of you, and even in your current state, you can tell that something is brewing beneath those sharp eyes. "However, if said captain has you in his arsenal, then I feel like some investigation is warranted. After all, the Captain of the Cross-Haired pirates is not particularly known for her tendency to submit to others."

You quirk an eyebrow at him and circle your finger around the bottle rim, pondering on the subject yet not biting at the metaphorical carrot he dangles in front of you. "Technically, it’s just like you said: I'm retired, and the Cross-Haired pirates are no more. I’d think most people are aware of that.”

"The Marines believe otherwise,” he counters calmly. “The Cross-haired pirates may be disbanded, but their captain’s bounty remains on the posters. The vice-admiral was quite adamant that, while he wants the boy alive, he’d prefer it if you weren’t."

“I see.” The vice-admiral should learn to take a fucking number. “Tell me, have you elected a means of execution, or is it the dealer's choice?"

"I recall he mentioned something along the lines of wanting your head on a spike."

"Crude."

"I agree."

"Then," you raise your glass. "Am I to have my last drink here tonight?"

He shakes his head. "No, I'm here for the boy and nothing else."

You'd expect him to be forward with his line of questions; demand you just give Luffy up and be done with it, not side-stepping the subject like he's doing now.

If he suspects something, he'll sniff it out like a bloodhound until he gets what he's searching for, regardless of how many cards or people fall around him. You’ve not exactly been subtle about your affiliations with his quarry, something you’ll berate yourself for come morning, but it all depends on how this plays out now.

"I won’t give you the answer you seek. You’ll have to do that on your own.”

You're not friends, but you're not necessarily foes either.

For as long as you’ve known the swordsman, Mihawk's only ever had a beef with Shanks for reasons undisclosed even to you. Even after you parted ways with your red-haired crew mate, Mihawk never seemed to have anything personal against you despite the rather brutal nature of your previous encounter.

If anything, there's a certain level of respect veiled between you, one former pirate to another semi-former one, and it’s something you hope he'll honor just this once.

To your relief, he decides to not push the matter, but the interest lingers in his eyes.

It's not easy to notice, but you make it a habit to take note of limited details. "The boy must be something special to have earned your loyalty like this, Cross-Hairs."

"I suppose you'll have to find out for yourself."

"Perhaps so," he concedes.

You chug the rest of your drink in one go, put the empty bottle on the tabletop in the space between you, and push yourself off the counter. "For what it's worth, I wish you good fortune with your endeavor. However, I’ll warn you; if anything happens to the kid, I'll get involved.”

“Duly noted.” Once again, he dips his head to you. "And Cross-Hairs,"

"Hmmm?"

You glance at him from over your shoulder, but his gaze is fixated on something else this time. Something on the other side of the bar, to the borders of the waters. If he sees anything, you can't tell what it is, and he doesn’t share.

Not explicitly.

"There is unrest brewing in the seas," he finally reveals, casually as if he's discussing the current state of the weather. "I'd suggest you keep your feet dry for now, at your convenience."

You don't know what he speaks of, but whatever it is, you'll follow. He is not a man who prides himself on his capacity to proclaim falsehood. If he tells you that the sun is green, you'll believe it, and you make it a habit not to believe in a lot of people.

That applies to this warning too.

"I'll see you around, Hawk-Eyes."

You need another drink.

———

You slip in and out of consciousness a couple of times throughout the night, never coming to the same places twice, with a belly full of rum, beer, and whatever else with enough alcoholic percentage to knock out a horse.

At one point, you're in the restaurant munching on some bread rolls.

At another, you're puking your guts out in the bathroom stalls.

At the third, you're chugging even more liquor straight out of the bottle while a bunch of people cheer you on.

The circle goes on and on and on until it spins out of control like a zoetrope. Faces flash in front of you, one after the other, never the same two times in a row.

It's alright, you tell yourself, as long as you forget.

You forget about blue eyes, blue hair, and red noses.

You forget about Gol D. Roger and the time you spent on his crew.

You forget it all, if only for a few hours.

Next time you come to, you're still miraculously standing on your feet. You’re currently in the kitchen on the Merry, and currently listening to Nami telling a ridiculous story about how Zoro challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel.

What a funny story.

In fact, it’s so funny and so outlandish that you can't help but snort. Since when has Nami been the kind of person to tell jokes?

Maybe Usopp's tendencies have rubbed off on the standoffish young woman, or maybe she's smoked something along with her drinks?

Fuck, you have to ask her where she got the stuff.

It takes a few moments of awkward silence until you realize that no one is joking, Nami least of all. The room is still, and as if all alcoholic content has left your blood, it dawns on you last of all.

Oh hell no.

You slowly turn to Zoro with a deadpan look in your eyes, and despite the urgency, you ask him as calmly as you can, "You challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel?"

He bobs his head and continues polishing his swords. "Which he accepted,"

You blink, and blink, hoping that this is just a fragment your beer-and-bottle-drenched brain has conjured to fuck with you, but Zoro remains where he is and so is everyone and everything else.

Fuuuuuuuck…

You thought he was one of the smart ones, too. His sense of navigation doesn't work for shit and if anyone can get lost on their way to the lavatory, it's him. Still, you withheld some semblance of hope that he would exhibit the same kind of recklessness as his captain.

Turns out, it has all been for naught.

You rub your temples hard enough to sting. With a nasty headache developing, you decide to pop the question. "Cremation or burial at sea?"

"... What?"

"Pick one or the other, I'll see to it that arrangements can be made."

"I'm not going to die.”

"You are a fly to him." Nami grimaces. "Something to be swatted and forgotten,"

"Not if I win." Zoro is steadfast and determined, like every new pirate on their first voyage.

It’s a look you remember well. In a way, the young swordsman kind of reminds you of Mihawk himself, and if there's one thing you can link to both, it's that annoying stubbornness that never yields. Even when the odds are against them.

"You're not going to win," Nami tries.

Zoro remains infuriatingly unconvinced. "You don't know that."

"You won't." This situation, to your chagrin, sobers you up enough that you can't blame the liquor on your next actions or words.

You take a step towards him, and with an iron fist, grab him by the front of his shirt and force him to face you. He's unamused. “I think I liked you better when you were drunk,” he murmurs.

"I want you to get this, really get this.” You snarl. “Once you go against Mihawk, and there's no coming back for most. He's not known as the World's Greatest Swordsman for no reason, and as good as you are, take it from me. He'll end you."

He inclines his head to the side with deep-rooted skepticism. "Sounds like you really know the guy,"

"It doesn't matter whether I know him or not."

"Everywhere we go, we make enemies, and for some reason, they've already got a grudge against you, Captain Cross-Hairs."

With one hand clenched against your offending wrist, he starts to list off his other hand. "Since you know just about every asshole we come across, you might as well tell me about Mihawk's preferred method of execution. Will he chop me in half, or is he excessive like the damn clown and goes all the way with splitting someone into pieces?"

You feel your nails begin to pierce through the fabric of his shirt, inches away from leaving open gaps. You're not their guardian or their mentor. You're not the one supposed to keep the crew at ease or lead them towards certain victories.

That's the captain's role, and you're not it. Not on this ship, with this crew.

Your only purpose here is to keep them from killing themselves on their first voyage, but if they're so determined to do it themselves despite the warnings you provide, then it's not on you.

Pulling him a few inches closer to you, you look him straight in the eyes, and that's when you see it. The aforementioned stubbornness that follows each and every young pirate you've come across in your life. The notion that they're invulnerable; unkillable.

Nothing can hope to end them.

You remember what it was like, that feeling, and it almost breaks you to see it in front of you like this.

You know aggression won’t do it for him, so you try an approach you haven’t tried in years. Bargaining.

“What will it take for you to pull back from this?”

“He’s coming for Luffy. I’m his first mate, it’s my duty to protect the captain.”

To protect the Captain…

That's how you know that there's no convincing the young swordsman to stand down, not this time.

He's persistent, exceedingly so, and if there's one thing you've learned during this voyage with these people it's that hell hath no fury like a straw hat pirate determined.

This is not on you, yet it doesn't make it any easier to let go of him. But you do.

Taking a deep breath, you uncurl your fingers and let him step back.

"Fine."

You need another drink.

Glancing over your shoulder, you meet Luffy’s concerned gaze. “This is your call, captain.”

You don’t need to be here for this. You’ve done your part, and now it’s his turn to do his.

You give Zoro a pat on his back, just one. It's not meant for comfort, it's not an act of sympathy either.

It's just a pat, like the kind you give your friend when they're about to gamble away all their savings over a game of cards. It’s the “fuck around and find out, but do it yourself”-kind of gesture.

Heaving a sigh, you sidestep him and let your fingers fall off his shoulders. "It's been fun, Zoro."

And the worst part about this all is that you mean it, truly. It has been fun to sail with them, share a few beers, and joke at the expense of others. Your time on this ship has been fun.

Like old times.

You won't go as far as to call Zoro a friend, you never do, but it's close enough that you'll probably miss him in the long run.

Zoro looks at you, his countenance indecipherable. "Say that to me again when I win this fight,"

"I can't." Because you won't.

---

The water forces its way into his lungs at such speed that it feels like he's swallowed buckets by the time they finally come up for air. He harks and coughs and tries to get as much of it out, but he doesn’t feel any lighter.

Get it? Lighter, because he’s just a head now and— alright, forget it.

For once, he's happy his head is disjointed from the rest of his body because if it wasn't, he'd probably sink to the bottom of the ocean from the fluid in his belly alone.

The taste of salt and sand stays like a sour afterthought on his tongue, and as much as he tries to spit it out, he can't be rid of all the grains. "Fuck! Give me a warning next time, will ya?! Kinda vulnerable to seawater and all that!"

Whatever fish-guy has him strapped to their back this time does not dignify his complaints with a verbal response. Instead, all he hears is a couple of snickers, like their humor is fuelled at his expense.

Assholes, the lot of them.

It takes some time for the tangy scent to abandon his nostrils, but once it does, it's immediately replaced by the fine scent of something divine. Something delicious.

It smells of food. Actual fucking human food. Not whatever Arlong and his litter gorge on, which he personally believes to be carcasses of dead sea animals they happen to catch on the shores of their island.

It's honest-to-god cooked, seasoned, edible food.

Buggy can feel his mouth water, and for once, he cannot blame it on seawater.

They're finally at Baratie.

The finest restaurant in all the East Blue, renowned for its excellent taste and unrivaled quality. Only the richest of the rich get to dine here, and while he's not exactly flowing with berries at the moment, he’s famished.

“Hey, Lips!" he yells out as loud as he can through the shitty bag. "How about you order me some hot dogs once we get a seat? A clown's gotta eat!"

The only sort of response he gets is an elbow to the bag, which incidentally clashes right into his nose. "FUCK!"

"Shut up!"

There's scuttling to be heard, doors opening, and a shitton of gasps echo from all around him. They have an audience, he deduces, and not a particularly receptive one at that.

Arlong makes a spectacle, something about "serve" and yish and yash about dinner and last meals as they get a seat.

Fuck, what he would give for a meal.

For the first time in what feels like forever, he feels solid ground settle under his neck. Though it's a pleasant reprieve from being thrown back and forth like a yarn ball caught in a cat’s game, he won’t consider it much of an upgrade. He's fucking hungry, damnit!

"Who are you, old man?" Arlong speaks, and Buggy hears uneven steps approach them.

An unfamiliar voice answers. "My name's Zeff, and I own this place."

Right, the Chief. Maybe he can ask him for some crumbs since his captors aren’t exactly on the generous side.

"Well, I'm Arlong, and I own the East Blue."

"No one owns the sea. Not even a fish man."

Ooooh, burn! Suck on that, shitface!

"Listen up!” Arlong exclaims when the chief’s negotiation tactics fail to appease him. “I'm looking for a pirate in a straw hat! Goes by the name of Luffy!"

The saw-nosed motherfucker truly has to be even more extravagant than himself, Buggy admits to himself with no short amount of begrudging compliance. Fishface even goes as far as to threaten the poor diners with having them for dinner instead, by the sounds of it.

Buggy can appreciate the message it conveys; he’s used it himself, but he refuses to find any common ground with his captor, so he buries the sentiment ten feet down into wherever the hell his body is.

He listens as the diners lose their appetite, all the while Arlong begins to gorge on whatever he has on his plate. For a while, all he can make out is the sound of meat being torn off something and the occasional cry from one of the diners in the distance.

Even from miles and miles away, Buggy can feel his stomach twist painfully due to the lack of food in it. Oh, it’s hell on earth to smell everything you want yet being unable to even grasp it. And here his captors are, toying with him, torturing him with it.

Seriously, fuck them.

He’s about to demand to get something to chew on when Arlong’s other henchman — Kuroobi or some shit like that — beats him to it. "Hey, boss, I'm feeling for a bottle right about now."

Arlong laughs. "Don’t have to tell me. Take what you please. I don’t think that one will mind sharing one of hers.”

“And get one for me too while you’re at it,” Lips supplies.

The henchman cackles and gets up to his feet to retrieve what he’s looking for, but not before lightly kicking the bag that is Buggy’s current prison cell in the side.

“HEY!”

“Sorry.” He apologizes unapologetically.

Buggy grinds his teeth together and tries to think of something — anything — to keep his mind off his ever-rising hunger. When he gets his body back, he'll take some bottles and shove them right up these fuckers a—

CRASH!

Buggy hears the sound of something breaking from the opposite side of where the fish man just headed. Countless gasps ring through the restaurant’s interior, bouncing on the walls, and he hears the henchman’s painful wails from a distance away.

He’d laugh - he does laugh, because it seems like someone didn’t want to share their precious drinks and decided that full-on attacking one of the fish people was the appropriate kind of response.

It’s impressive, he thinks. Very much so. Oh, he’d pay to see that again, and he’ll have to give that person a fucking kiss, just for making his day a little bit better.

It’s a shame he can’t see the—

"Fucking get lost."

Buggy feels his head freeze in the bag.

He recognizes that voice. The morning sun shone atop the ship deck. Warm. Cold. All of them at once.

He's finally found you.

---

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #one piece live action #one piece x reader #buggy x you #one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #DMTMYHB #didn’t mean to make your heart blue

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metalhoops · 1 year

Text

Corroded Coffin didn’t ‘do’ love songs.

It wasn’t some unwritten rule or unspoken theory that they were too ‘cool’ for love songs. Hell, metal ballads were a whole subgenre. Even W.A.S.P. had a love song.

It was just that in their three years as a band, they’d never written a single love song. If Corroded Coffin had a lyricist, it was Eddie. It wasn’t as though other members hadn’t tried their hand at writing. Gareth and Jeff had written a handful of songs between them, as well as helped Eddie polish a couple of verses. Grant had even written a chorus, but generally, the lyrics of a Corroded Coffin song were, first and foremost, Eddie’s brainchild.

The closest they’d ever gotten to writing a love song was ‘Killer Konnection’, and that was all Jeff. Though it was more about lust than love. So you could imagine the boys' shock when Eddie showed up to band practice and played them a love song.

It was unlike any of their other material. Since Eddie disappeared back in March after being framed for a series of murders, the songs he’d written had changed. That hadn’t surprised the boys. Being proverbially run out of town with pitchforks could really change a guy’s view of the world. He pulled out some killer prose about red skies filled with bats and dark wizards out for deathly revenge. But they’d never heard Eddie write anything like the song he played for them that morning. He hadn’t even named it. Though Gareth caught a glimpse in Eddie’s notebook and saw it was going by the tentative title of ‘S’. A mysterious name for a mysterious song.

Sure, ‘S’ had all the hallmarks of a Corroded Coffin song. It had the killer beat spurred on by the anxiety-inducing pounding drumbeat and base, accompanied by thrashing guitars and raw vocals, but the lyrics? Downright Robert Smith or Morrissey vibes. Maybe ‘love song’ was too harsh. Really, it was a song about longing. Even the guitar chords appeared to ache under the weight of the song.

The song left the three other members of Corroded Coffin asking one question. What the hell happened with Eddie? They’d known Eddie was gay since before they’d become a band. It wasn’t like the boys were the type for adhering to societal conventions anyway.

It’d be another year before Gareth decided he didn’t particularly have any preference as to who he fell in love with, and Grant? He decided he’d rather play D&D and work on creating his own tabletop RPG than date anyone, anytime soon. Thank you very much. Jeff was the token straight friend, though he did like wearing eyeliner and painting his nails, so people thought what they would.

They knew Eddie had dated guys — maybe ‘dated’ was too strong a word. They knew Eddie had hooked up with guys but none of them had inspired such a response. They made it their mission to work out who the hell ‘S’ was about, and maybe try to knock some sense into him. Eddie’s song sounded so damn heartbreaking. They were his best friends. They had to do something.

It wasn’t until their next Hellfire session that all the pieces fell into place. Since Hawkins burst of Satanic Panic, D&D at the high school was no longer an option, so they’d been couch surfing across different members’ houses. How they ended up at the Harringtons’ the Corroded Coffin boys would never know. They knew Dustin and the younger kids were friends with the guy, but since he’d gotten off the hook for the town murders, Eddie and Steve had gotten close.

The men had eyes. It was clear to see by the way Eddie’s focus honed in on Steve the second he entered the room, the guy was equal parts smitten and grief-stricken. It was also painfully apparent Steve was oblivious. Not Eddie falling for a straight guy, again. That always ended poorly.

Yet there were moments, the boys questioned how one-sided the affair was. Gareth noticed the way Steve went straight to Eddie after the session was over. He asked about the game. He knew Harrington didn’t give two shits about D&D but he listened attentively, nodding his head and narrowing his eyes as though in deep concentration as Eddie spoke. Weird.

He was also nice to the Corroded Coffin boys. Uncharacteristically nice. Harrington got a little snarky with the kids. He’d make jabs about them making sure to use coasters or get their feet off the coffee table, but the Corroded Coffin boys? It was nothing but small talk and platitudes, as though he was trying particularly hard to be nice and non-offensive. Why would Harrington care what they thought?

Eddie was always the last to arrive at rehearsals, which left plenty of time for the men to discuss. One pressing question: was Steve actually queer? Gareth said yes, Jeff said no and Grant wanted to be excluded from the conversation. The next, had anything actually happened between Eddie and Steve? After going through ‘S’s lyrics with a fine-toothed comb, they all agreed on ‘maybe’. Which was less than helpful. The boys weren’t usually the type for meddling but Eddie had been downright mopey all month. They needed to do something.

Gareth took one for the team at the next Hellfire session held at the Harringtons’. They’d been playing for three hours straight and were taking a well-deserved break. The kids were eating lunch while Eddie was smoking out back near Steve’s pool. Harrington was cleaning plates in the kitchen, so Gareth offered to help. He’d never been subtle, so he began the conversation with a sentence that seemed to hit Steve, much like a sledgehammer to the face.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Steve looked at Gareth wide-eyed, all deer in headlights, dull doe eyes. Gareth didn’t understand Eddie’s seemingly deep and aching love for the guy, but he was easy enough on the eyes.

“No. Not currently,” Steve fumbled.

“Oh. Okay cool.” Gareth paused for too long. He should’ve had a better plan than just ‘talk to Steve’.

“Do you want one?”

“A girlfriend?” Steve clarified, still looking both alarmed and dumbfounded.

“A friend. Who doesn’t happen to have to be a girl,” Gareth circumnavigated. People said Harrington was dumb, but the guy appeared to catch onto what he was implying too quickly for an entirely straight ex-jock.

“I-uh. I don’t know you that well,” Steve mumbled, his eyes suddenly glued to the dishes in the sink.

Holy fucking shit, Steve Harrington thought he was asking him out. Nope. NO. Abort. Gareth needed to crawl into a deep, dark hole for the foreseeable future. He had no clue what he’d said to Steve. He just got himself the hell out of there. Steve spent the rest of the session being annoyingly nice to him, without mentioning the awkward moment in the kitchen. Gareth spent the time wanting to crawl inside himself and puke. Eddie was going to be so mad if he ever found out.

With all his inner turmoil, it wasn’t until he left the Harringtons’ that he realised, Steve hadn’t turned Gareth down because he was a guy. He’d turned him down because they didn’t know each other. Holy shit. There was hope.

At the next rehearsal, he managed to sway the other band members into believing that despite their (and likely Eddie’s) assumptions, Steve Harrington wasn’t as ‘totally straight, off limits’ as they’d assumed. It was Jeff’s turn to have a plan. He kept the other members in the dark, besides his exclamation of ‘I have a plan’. By the time the plan came to fruition, it’d sunk into the back of the band members’ collective subconscious.

The band was playing at The Hideout and Jeff insisted they change their setlist to include ‘S’. There wasn’t much argument. When it was time to play the song, Jeff quickly introduced it, dedicating it to ‘someone special in the crowd’. It was then that the other Corroded Coffin boys were suddenly on hyper-alert, searching the crowd for whatever poor girl Jeff had decided to fall for, when all three sets of unassuming eyes found the familiar face of Steve Harrington lingering in the back booth. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst their regulars.

Eddie looked ready to puke or run but the boys quickly counted him in, and they were off to the races. Eddie couldn’t resist a catchy hook. Once the setlist was over, Eddie remained hiding backstage, pacing and looking ready to actually commit a string of murders while muttering ‘what the fuck did you do?’ whether to himself or the rest of the band, they didn’t know.

Eventually, a familiar figure appeared at the backstage door. Steve knocked tentatively before peeking in. He gave an awkward half-hearted wave to the other members before making a beeline for Eddie.

“I got your note,” Steve said, the note all band members were now sure Jeff had somehow engineered.

“I liked the song, it was kind of sad though...” Steve muttered, gazing down at his shoes: dentist’s teeth fresh, white reeboks. Who wore reeboks to a metal show at a bar?

Much to the dismay of the other Corroded Coffin members, Grant chose that moment to get involved. He ushered Gareth and Jeff out to the front of house, out of earshot. Leaving Steve and Eddie to have their conversation in private.

The next week, Eddie arrived at rehearsals early, with Steve Harrington and a new, real Corroded Coffin love song in tow.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fictlet #drabble #steddie drabble #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #outsider pov baby #everyone is a disaster #stranger things 4 #stranger things au

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steviewashere · 3 months

Text

Laughter Like a Kiss on the Lips

Rating: General CW: Steve Harrington has Lackluster Parents (Not Terrible, But Not Amazing Either) Tags: Established Relationship, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Dialogue Heavy, Making Promises, Reflecting on the Good Parts of Childhood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Laughter, Tickling, Ticklish Steve Harrington For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is wanting to know everything about what makes up the person you're in love with, even the difficult stuff."

💕—————💕

They’ve been laying on the carpet of Steve’s living room for the better half of an hour. Sprawled, loose, listening to one another breathe. The day’s been a long one. Early work shifts, car breakdowns, a short and resolved argument. It’s just been rough.

Debriefing usually results in this. Silence and floor. Closed eyes and steady chests. But Eddie, the restless jumble of energy he is, begins to hum. Not something he’d usually go after, at least that’s what Steve believes. Isn’t heavy. Isn’t loud or dark or saturated. Light. Effervescent and warm. Like sun rays cascading through a stain glass window.

It’s almost country, funny enough. Again, at least that’s what Steve thinks it is. He’s not the most versed when it comes to music. Sure, he knows about jazz and pop and early rock, blues and all. He’s aware of all that and some more indie things that Robin likes to shove down his throat when they’re driving out somewhere. But Eddie’s not one to steer far from his usual course, so this humming music he’s got going on, it’s new yet welcomed to Steve.

“That’s new,” he points out.

Eddie stops and his head shifts against the carpet, hair lightly scraping. He’s gonna be a frizzy mess, but Steve adores taking care of it at the end of the day. A questioning hum emanates. But neither of them open their eyes.

“The song you got stuck in your head,” Steve notes, “it’s a new one.”

Chuckling, Eddie mumbles, “Ain’t that new.” Steve hears him turn on his side. His voice closer against the shell of his ear, facing towards him then. “Something from when I was growing up.”

“Wayne like country or something?”

Eddie scoffs. “It isn’t country, Stevie. It’s bluegrass. Different kind of folk, babe.” A hand settles on Steve’s chest. His thumb rubs in circles where Steve’s heart is. “‘Nine Pound Hammer’, but it’s Merle Travis’s version. Mom was from eastern Tennessee, the Appalachian region. Lots of folk songs come from the Appalachian people.”

Steve opens his eyes and lolls his head to look directly at Eddie. They softly smile at each other. “She sing that to you?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Eddie murmurs. “More so heard it on her records. She wasn’t the best singer, not to speak ill of the dead. But—“ He sucks his teeth. “—Yeah, she’d sing. Dance to it, too. Dad came from Tennessee, too, but moved up to Indiana when he was a little kid. Didn’t stop him from pursuing a failed music career or women. He sang to her, what she liked, played it on his acoustic.”

Steve hums. “Music is your family’s world, isn’t it?”

Eddie chuckles again. “Well, it got my parents together. And they had me. So, it’s kinda like god in a sense. The life bringer.” He sighs. “What about you, Stevie? Got any songs from your childhood?”

Thinking back, no not really. His parents have always been very distant from one another. Not necessarily away from him, but the crumbling of their marriage lead to the rusting of the bridge that connected the three of them. There isn’t any rich storytelling within the Harrington name either. Nothing like a cute little meeting at a bar on the outskirts of town. Or even something where they went from high school rivals to close friends to lovers and then back to strangers.

No, his parents were forced to meet over a business deal meeting. Forced into a marriage neither of them wanted. And they made love in the dark. Steve was conceived in a dark bedroom where only their stuttered breaths could be heard. And they didn’t look after one another. Didn’t take care of each other, not like Steve does with Eddie and Eddie does with Steve.

So he shrugs. “No,” he answers honestly.

“Really?” Eddie incredulously questions, “Nothing at all?” He sits up on one of his elbows, eyes wide down at Steve. “That feels hard to believe.”

“You wanted to know, so I’m telling you. It’s not a pretty story.”

“What isn’t a pretty story? The birth of some song that reminds you of being a little kid?”

“I don’t—There isn’t anything that takes me back to being a little kid. I hated being a little kid. The story’s ugly anyway.”

“Tell me,” Eddie quietly pleads. “Tell me even if it’s shitty, I wanna know.”

He has to really think hard on this. Still, there’s no music. No movies or plays or anything of that nature. Books felt like an obligation, too, when they were teaching him how to read. There was bible study and church Sundays and his starchy, stiff outfit. His mom and her spit slick thumb and his unruly eating habits. Manners taught and hands slapped.

There’s not much good, unfortunately. But, something nice comes to mind.

“My parents didn’t like each other. I don’t think they really knew how to do that,” Steve starts. “I was just kind of a product of that, I guess. Like I was the trophy to complete their gauntlet. They dated and they bought a house and they got engaged and they got married, they had me. Forced dating, though.” He rests his own palm on the back of Eddie’s hand. Scratching dully at his skin. “But, as much as they hated being near one another, there was this one thing they did constantly. That they included me in on.”

Eddie hums. “Sounds promising,” he whispers. “What’d they do, babydoll?”

Steve squeezes Eddie’s wrist. Pulls away and runs his fingers through the ends of Eddie’s curls. “They did each other’s hair. They did my hair, too.” He eyes the frizz that he knew would eventually make itself known. Raking over the pattern of Eddie’s curls. The rough, choppy cut to his bangs. He adores Eddie’s hair. “It was kinda funny. We’d all be topless—sans like my mom’s bra, y’know because the hair would get on our shirts anyway?—and we’d huddle in the downstairs master bathroom. As big as this house is, that room is fucking small.

“I’d sit on the counter. In my sleep shorts, hands wrapped around the soft tummy of this brown teddy bear my mom got me, socks on my feet. Butt on the edge of the sink. Feet kicking around in the open air. I liked to sit in front of my dad.” His hand gently rests on the side of Eddie’s neck, eyes remaining glued to the spot. He’s never shared this before. Kinda wants to remain lost for a while.

Continues, “He has this very thick handlebar mustache. He’s always had it. And as my mom stood behind him—trimming up the top of his head, raking her fingers through with mousse—he’d take his own shears to his ‘stache. Would shape it up, stretch his lips down, raise his eyebrows in focus.

“It made me laugh. And he’d kinda chuckle. But when he was done?”

Eddie’s still smiling at him. He can feel it. His own face must be doing the same. “What’d he do, sweetheart?”

“He’d set his shears to the side and he’d—“ Steve chuckles. “He’d tickle my ribs! The bastard would turn his attention to me, crinkle up his eyes in sadistic laughter, and shove his fingers in my ribs. It was stupid, but I liked it. And obviously, it made me laugh. I used to honk-squeak. Like super loud.” He takes a deep breath, and on the exhale his smile wisps away from him. “It’s the only time we really laughed together. It’s the only time I felt like—Like I was their kid. Not some object to show off. Now I just do my own hair. I miss that time, those feelings,” he quietly admits.

Above him, Eddie gently coos. A soft sound. But when he finally chances a look, there’s a mischievous glint to his eyes. Mirth. In one swift motion, Eddie is straddling his hips, cold hands under Steve’s t-shirt, rucking the clothing up, and jabbing his fingers into his ribs.

Steve tries to shove his hands away, but can’t help the way he surrenders. Curling in on himself, smile stretching across his face, nose scrunching with his laughter, the kind of laughter that leaves him gasping and honking and squeaking. Just like it was when he was a little boy. The sensation leaves him breathless and squealing, slapping at Eddie’s chest. Still smiling and wonderful when Eddie relents.

“And there he is,” Eddie whispers. “There’s Steve Harrington. Smiling at me all gorgeous. Can’t believe you’re ticklish, baby. That’s adorable.”

A half-hearted slap lands to the center of Eddie’s chest. “I told you that with confidence. Don’t use it against me.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Eddie swears. “Eye for an eye. I gave you my love for bluegrass, you gave me the joy of your laughter.” He leans down into Steve’s space again. His body yin-yang to his own. A hand petting over Steve’s hair. “You know what we get to do now?”

Steve gives him his own questioning hum.

“We get to combine. Make our own good memories. Tell each other our tainted stories. About your insufferable parents and my criminal dad and my long-gone mom. About your cold house and mine that was consumed by fire. I’ll melt your ice, you’ll douse my fire. And we find you a song that’ll remind you of the start of this. And you take care of the frizz in my hair.” He kisses Steve’s forehead. Murmuring against the skin, “I saw you eyeing my ends. You ain’t discreet.”

In response, Steve laughs once more. He sighs and leans up into Eddie’s space, a soft kiss square on his lips. Pulling away, he whispers, “To new beginnings.”

“And to happily ever afters,” Eddie promises.

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 4 #mild hurt/comfort #fluff

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intynidad · 11 months

Note

How would the LI's from the otome au react to their first date with the reader?

this is such a cute idea uwu

first date with the otome au love interest

childhood friend: Your first date would likely be a cozy evening spent cuddling on the sofa, enveloped in each other's presence. As you sit close together, you decide to indulge in a nostalgic trip down memory lane by watching a movie from your childhood. The flickering screen illuminates the room, casting a soft glow that adds to the intimate ambiance. You find yourselves immersed in the story together, laughing and sharing lighthearted banter as you playfully mock the movie's cheesy lines and outdated special effects. The shared enjoyment of the film strengthens the connection between you, creating a sense of comfort and familiarity. and you know, if things get boring your/his bedroom is upstairs if you know what i mean ;)

older family friend

For your first date, you would be whisked away to an extraordinary, five-star restaurant that embodies lavishness and sophistication. The elegant ambiance, impeccable service, and a menu filled with culinary masterpieces would create a truly unforgettable dining experience. Together, you would indulge in delectable dishes, engage in a fascinating conversation, and embark on a journey of gastronomic delights, setting the stage for a memorable and romantic evening. after that, he would take you for a walk through the city, just enjoying each other company

the heroine

She adores amusement park dates, where the sweet aroma of cotton candy fills the air and the exhilarating thrill of rides makes her heart race with excitement (almost as fast as when she is with you). The joy and laughter shared as you both navigate the colorful attractions makes her heart skip a beat. However, if amusement parks aren't your cup of tea, a cozy skincare date filled with pampering and gossiping is a must. You can indulge in self-care rituals, exchange beauty secrets, and enjoy moments of relaxation while talking about the latest gossip in town

the loner what do you mean by “first date”, to them you two already had a first date that consisted of them watching you through your window for 3 hours, oh right but you didn't know about that. For your first "official" date, you would find yourselves in a cozy café, indulging in an abundance of delectable sweets. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sight of mouthwatering pastries would tantalize your senses. As you both embark on a delightful culinary adventure, the café becomes a sanctuary where you can savor the blissful moments together. From delicate macarons to rich chocolate cakes, you would explore a delightful array of desserts, sharing laughter and creating a sweet bond, loner has a sweet tooth after all and you are the sweetest thing they have ever seen

the playboy

You two would embark on unforgettable clubbing adventures together. He possesses an uncanny ability to know everyone and is well-versed in the hottest party spots in town. With him as your guide, you'll gain access to exclusive venues and experience the pulse-pounding energy of the nightlife scene. From dancing to the pulsating beats to mingling with a vibrant crowd, each night out becomes a thrilling escapade filled with unforgettable memories. With his charisma and connections, your clubbing experiences will be elevated to new heights, creating an electric atmosphere that keeps you coming back for more.

the delinquent

would depend on two things, if his gang knows about you, all of you would go around town breaking some laws and doing some chaos to everybody that crosses their path. but if you prefer a less “violent” setting you two would go into his house and he would prepare you a fancy homemade dinner that would leave your wanting more and more

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marvelsswansong · 2 years

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the perfection of every Midnights track (in order)

Track 1: Lavender Haze

the fact that it opens with "meet me at midnight", the tagline for this era. the pounding beats with drowned out melodies that makes it feel like you're hearing the song through the bathroom wall at a party winding down at midnight. the line "you don't really read into my melancholia." the narrative of pushing through the chaos of popular gossip and sexist social commentary, to be wrapped up in the soft 'lavender gaze' of a love and to surrender to falling down the love spiral.

Track 2: Maroon

the entire song reads like a narrative of a romance story, seeing vignettes of her falling in love with one connecting factor: various hues of red (the most romantic and bold color) bleeding into maroon. silly mistakes like him spilling wine on her shirt, passionate love marks left on her collarbones, rust that grew from telephones in between long distance calls, the blush on her cheeks. by the time the song ends and so does the relationship, the colors of these memories have faded from rubies and scarlet (remarkably more bright and happy colors) to maroon.

Track 3: Anti-Hero

brutally honest and self-reflective track, taylor's most sharp cutting lyrics yet. the insufferable passing of time, feeling at unease at every turn. how ease you feel doing self-destructive things (like staring at the sun) but then not being unable to face up to yourself and stare at the mirror. feeling like you're the problem at every turn, doubting your kindness as selfishness, acting out in unkind ways as a 'self fulfilling prophecy' because you already view yourself as the anti-hero.

Track 4: Snow on The Beach (ft. Lana Del Rey)

the soft strummings of instrumentals, taylor's delicate lyrics and pacing of her words mimic snowflakes slowly falling down, beautiful atmosphere on this track. the harmonies of Lana and Taylor's voices are absolutely heavenly, they complement each other's tones so well. the paradoxical image of there being snow on the beach to reflect falling in love in the most nonsensical, unbelievable and magical ways. feeling surrounded by a noiseless dream, not knowing if this is real - "it's weird but fucking beautiful, stars by the pocketful."

Track 5: You're On Your Own, Kid

after waiting eternities (watching fires wither into ashes, endless drip-drip of sprinklers and sitting through video phone calls with an unsympathetic lover smoking on the other end) - she realizes he's never cared and she's truly on her own. she yearns to escape this town and in an attempt to earn love, she's thrown meaningless parties and starved her body. it's all in hopes that she'll be saved by a magic kiss (as many princesses are saved in fairytales, notably). she endures it all, the jokes and fake friends and cruelty of the industry. but as she stands in a blood soaked gown, she sees it all for what it is: you may be on your own, as you always have been, but you can face it. such an incredibly relatable message and a harrowing yet comforting realization. you're on your own, but that also means you can save yourself.

Track 6: Midnight Rain

the distorted vocals and light synth rhythms work with the song so well, the reflections of why the relationship didn't work out are haunting her and replaying in her head. he's sunlight - nice, comfortable, comes from a picture perfect family with holiday peppermint candy. she's midnight rain - covert, hard to read, seeking out darkness and pain. it could've never worked out and she never thinks of him, except for on midnights like this (perhaps it was also raining when she wrote this song).

Track 7: Question... ?

Taylor's tortured by endless questions. she knows he's painted her nights with a color she's been searching for ever since. but with life, circumstances and miscommunications getting in the way she's ultimately been left with more questions than answers. the organization of the verses as different questions meant to unravel the failings of her relationship with this 'sad boy' is brilliant, showing us little glimpses into their history. her playful "it's just a question" after each biting remark, poking at the most sensitive and tense parts of their relationship, is exceptionally delightful.

Track 8: Vigilante Shit

the callback to reputation era is strong with this one! but whilst reputation revenge tracks were loud, unapologetic and messy, this track screams organized crime, meticulous planning and cunning games. the brilliant lyric ‘i don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends'. the revenge storyline intertwined with the track of a coke addicted, high power businessman facing his downfall with his ex-wife and Taylor being on their 'vigilante shit' is just... some Bond level shit.

Track 9: Bejewled

the ultimate self-love, re-claiming your worth anthem. she's been letting him take advantage of her - walking over her peace of mind with shoes she bought for him - and she's tired of being too kind. "familiarity breeds contempt", being close to him has only drained her. so she's going to go out and polish up real nice because she's a jewel and a "diamond's gotta shine". i absolutely adore the twinkling sounds in the background, alongside with the peppy "nice" shouts in between verses and the upbeat beats underlying the whole track = it all beautifully constructs this image of Taylor shining bright like a jewel and it fits the happy emotive aspect of the track.

Track 10: Labyrinth

taylor's vocals are notably more muted, quiet and apprehensive on this track compared to the rest of the album. which makes sense, because she's lost in a labyrinth of her mind, facing her worst fears. like an elevator she knows will fall as quickly as it rises, she's frozen and lost in an endless maze as she realizes she's falling in love with someone who has the power to redirect the plane she previously thought was falling down. i also really love the cyclical imagery Taylor uses in this song to show her uneasiness at the situation, an attempt at repetitive patterns in order to calm herself: "breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out" and "break up, break free, break through, break down."

Track 11: Karma

For her enemies, karma is something to be afraid of (a bounty hunter, thunder, an agitating thought) but not for Taylor. instead, karma is a sweet cat, her boyfriend, the wind blowing through her hair on the weekends - it's a friendly force always on her side of the street. the concept of turning karma (this intacticle, inhuman concept) into a powerful force that she's friends with.... genius. Taylor's signaling her security and happiness, that ultimately karma will always be on her side and she's not worried. her sweet voice and glossy synths paired with these cutting lyrics are a pairing made in heaven.

Track 12: Sweet Nothing

the CUTEST love song ever, i adore how simple this track is. it starts out with a reference to a childish game - "i spy with my little eye" - and a pebble that she forgot she pocketed from Wicklow. the relationship is comfortable and sweet. Taylor sings about how so many people want her for fame and money, how there's immense pressure on her and endless demands and criticisms from all directions. but not her lover. he's content with just being with her, even when the world is banging down on the walls, he's humming in the kitchen and ultimately he doesn't want anything from her except sweet nothings. whisperings of love that are superficial in nature, sure, but contain and express so much affection and trust.

Track 13: Mastermind

the closing track to slay all closing tracks. the references to fate (stars aligning, lighting of a fuse) and meticulous planning (chess, dominoes falling in clockwork, being the wind in their free-flowing sails and liquor in their cocktails) add so much rich imagery to this song. this track touches a lot on the concept of control and self determination (a theme throughout the album be it lack of control, self destructive control or restrictive control) but the ending of this song makes it a little different. turns out, all along, he knew what she was up to. she didn't need to concoct all this Machevillian, mastermind level planning that she's been doing with all her relationships since she was a little kid because people didn't want to play with her. she's found her match.

#taylor swift #midnights #midnights album #swifties #taylurking #stream midnights #just wanted to add my two cents onto this excellent album <3 my fave Taylor album sorry Speak Now :(

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sebsxphia · 9 months

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ptolemaea. | the family tree in god’s country.

preacher!rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: you and rhett have finally found peace within your home, and rhett wishes to reassure you that he’ll protect you forever.

￫ word count: 3.5K.

￫ c/w: heavy religious themes, knives, blood, death and preacher!rhett abbott.

￫ a/n: as always, i’d highly recommend listening to ‘south alabama (god’s country demo)’ and ‘family tree’ by ethel cain when reading! a huge thank you to @sunblchdfly and @becks-things who continually encouraged and inspired me. i love you both very much! there’s only one more chapter left after this! and… i’m sorry <3 this is part of ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ my main masterlist can be read here! 💌

previous chapter | next chapter

The coastline of California, though far off in your line of vision, sparkled with what appeared like crystals dancing above the waves as they crashed against each other. That was your line of sight for the next three days that passed in your final resting place of the last Motel you would ever stay in.

On the drive out West, when you poked at your Preacher and asked him what the plan was when you couldn’t drive further, he would simply squeeze at your cheeks and tell you, “Don’t y’ worry your pretty little head.”

Momentarily, it was a softening blow to your anxieties of having no real plan. Instead, Rhett guided you to pray with him and trust that he, and God, had a plan for you.

During your last night's stay in the Motel room, he came through the front door and kicked it behind him with his boot heel as he spoke on the phone, signalling that it was coming to an end.

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll see y’ tomorrow. God bless.” He tapped on his phone screen to end the call and threw it onto the Motel bed. A long exasperated sigh left his lips. It was the sound of tiresome relief as he ran his hands down his face. When he caught your gaze, his lips quirked up into a smile and he took several strides over to you on the bed to pick you up by your waist and spin you around.

You let out a squeal and playfully batted on his shoulders. “Rhett! Rhett! What is it?”

“I got us a place t’ stay, sweet lamb,” he placed you back down on the ground but still kept you close. “It’s Arizona, a small town called Green Bowl, but ‘parently they nickname it the Dust Bowl. I need to meet a guy in the mornin’ ‘nd then we’ll drive over.”

You mirrored his smile with your giddiness and buried your face into the crook of his neck. He pulled you in close to his torso, warm from the California heat. A sigh filled with content escaped your lips and your eyes fluttered close for a moment. You matched Rhett’s relief and you could feel his heart pounding in time with yours as rested against his chest, him swaying you gently.

“Our own home. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Your voice was hushed against the fabric of his shirt. “It’s all God ever wanted, right?”

Rhett swallowed thickly and one of his hands came up to trail his fingers through your hair. “Right, my sweet lamb.”

When the morning came, you packed up your few and scattered belongings from the Motel room and let Rhett drive out to a nearby diner.

It was just a Thursday. The morning sun was beating down on Rhett’s truck. It was nowhere near the hottest point of the day, but the morning dew heat wouldn’t let up nonetheless. The streamlines of sunlight bounced off your passenger seat window as you watched your Preacher make his way into the diner. It wasn’t right for you to join him. He told you he had to do this himself.

But, there was concern in his voice when he climbed out the driver's door. He left you a pack of his favourite smokes and a note. “If somethin’ goes bad, read this ‘nd fuckin’ drive.”

You had a complete view of the windows to the diner and you opted for people watching. An elderly couple was sitting together and peacefully enjoying their morning breakfast. A cop was sitting up high on a stool and presumably sinking his third coffee of the day. There were a handful more odd people dotted around, some who you suspected were truck drivers and now being five hours into their twelve-hour shift.

The mellow tune of some local gospel radio station was playing quietly as your gaze drifted back to Rhett and followed him. He cocked his fingers upwards to wave to a man at the opposite end of the diner. The stranger nodded back and walked down the length of the windows towards him. The cop was situated four seats down from the front door where the stranger had now met your Preacher.

Rhett lifted his Stetson off his head and held it between their torsos. You saw him reach out his arm to presumably shake the man's hand. They were exchanging words and polite smiles. It all appeared amicable and you consciously let the anticipated breath you were holding go. You were so close to having your own home with your Preacher. Somewhere that was quiet and where you’d never be disturbed by any judgmental and wandering eyes. You were hours away from living in peace with the man you loved. You couldn’t help but feel on edge.

You blinked and the meeting was over. Rhett exited the diner quicker than he went in. He careered round to the driver's side and hopped in, his boot pressing quickly to the accelerator and pulling off from the diner. He had planned for a car chase down the highway if necessary.

He chewed furiously at the inside of his cheeks for a while before snapping back to his reality where his little lamb was sitting next to him and hanging off his words. He swallowed thickly and bit back a grimace with a faux smile. “All done. On our way to Dust Bowl. Say goodbye when we hit Route one-two-two.”

Rhett’s voice was extremely rugged. His breathing matched in frantic gasps. He sounded as though he was underwater when he spoke to you. He was gulping down seawater and spluttering over his lap. You were none the wiser to the fact that Rhett’s pocket pistol was sat snuggly against the waistband of his jeans and it had just been pressed against the stranger's torso to steal the key to your new home.

You flashed him a comforting smile and let your head fall to the glass pane of the passenger window, watching the road move at speed. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the knowledge that you were some time away from your new home, gave your body the excuse to allow your eyes to droop and fall asleep.

As fast as the road was moving in your eye line, was as fast as it took until you were comfortably moved into your home. It happened within the blink of an eye.

It was a rickety house far off from the dusty roads or any traces of life. There was an old barn that was falling apart, but it sat upon acres of country land, stretching as far as your eyes could make out. Between the barn and your house sat a pond. Nature had overtaken most of it with reeds sheltering all the edges, except for one small gap that sat in line with your back porch. Rhett dipped his feet when he arrived on the first day and declared that it was clean enough for you both.

Your home was delicate, but it didn’t take long for you and Rhett to do it up and make it your own. Old furnishings left over were drawn up and cared for, restored to life by the nimble craftsmanship of your Preacher. Other odd pieces of furniture were found on the side of roads, or in lonesome antique stores. Several empty rooms lay dormant, but you had made out your kitchen, bathroom, bedroom and a small living space where you could lay on a scratchy sofa and watch fuzzy television.

The final room that lay empty was the basement at the bottom of the house. You rarely went down there. Rhett had insisted that the stairs leading down were too old and he wouldn’t want you to slip and fall and hit your head. Due to the cool conditions of the basement, he kept a freezer down there for some food and other than that, he kept the door bolted shut. A silk pink ribbon that was yours, was wrapped in a neat bow around the lock.

The days were peaceful. You created an ebb and flow between you both of repairing the house where it needed it most. You would smile lovingly at Rhett as you washed your hands before sitting down to eat at your kitchen table, and he would mirror back the same lovesick smile.

Heavenly peace.

But behind the wall and above your bed, one of the wooden panels had come ajar. It was enough room for Rhett to store his pocket pistol and hunting knife, far from prying eyes.

At night he’d go down to your basement and pace the cold floor, muttering the same verse repeatedly. He would fetch a glass of water and return to your sleeping frame, but not before staring coldly at the panel and back down at you. They were dead eyes shining bright within the darkness of your home and yet, you were none the wiser to your Preacher finding his Heavenly peace.

One piece of furniture that you managed to salvage was an old dresser. The paint was peeling away off the wood and the mirror was clouded as you sat on the stool, three weeks into living your newfound and Holy life.

You were adorning the same set Rhett had filmed you in. You had only come upstairs to grab a plaid shirt from your bedroom, but you spotted it laying in the perfect place at the end of your bed and it reminded you of something. You admired yourself in the reflection of the mirror and you were presented with more marks blooming from your Preacher. Some were new from the first nights he had you in your bed, but the rest were old and fading against your skin. They were all over your body and as you sat in the lingerie set, they came to remind you of who you used to be.

A lost little lamb who gave themselves up from the herd and gave yourself to Preacher Abbott in the offering. When he spoke, he would demand his silence against you. You were guided by him and you knew, after he disclosed to you about his past that he had taken the noose off himself and had it wrapped tightly around your hand. You would follow him wherever he would go, like a lamb to the slaughter. But Hell didn’t scare you, not when you had Rhett.

You rested your elbows on the dresser top and clasped your hands together. Your eyes closed and you muttered close into your flesh, “Father Abbott, forgive these bones I’ve been hiding and the bones I’m about to leave. Take me down to the river and bathe me clean—”

A creak on the floorboards in the hallway startled you momentarily and you lifted your head and put your praying hands into your lap. Rhett was leaning against the doorway frame with his arms crossed over his broad chest and a sinful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was still wearing the white t-shirt from his day, but stains of dirt and grass were splattered over it, mixed with the heavy musk of labour induced sweat. His hair at the back of his neck was licked upwards in the same sweat and he held his cap in his battered hand. His eyes reflected off the setting sun of a Thursday evening and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip.

“My sweet lamb,” he purred with intrigue. “You’re dressed for the slaughter again, ‘nd you look so pretty.”

Your cheeks failed you as they turned a rosy blush and you bit down on your bottom lip.

“I just saw it, lyin’ there and I want—”

Rhett shushed you tenderly and pushed himself off the door frame, stalking over to you with intent in his strides. His large hands squeezed at your sides and lifted you off the stool with a small yelp of laughter from yourself. He buried his nose into your neck as he carried you to your bed, and inhaled your familiar scent deeply. He brought you down to the bed with him, lying on his back and having you straddle him over his jean-clad waist, his belt buckle ever so slightly digging into your bare thighs.

His calloused hands never left your hips and his fingertips dug into your flesh, lightly pinching at you. Occasionally his thumb dipped downwards to trace the scarring of R.A., still etched on you. One of his hands roamed upwards and curved along your ribs, still pinching at you. His eyes intensely followed the movement of his hands and they burned into your skin. There was still a faint trace of the Heavenly smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, but it was fading.

“Look at you. You are s’ precious to me, little lamb. I love ‘nd cherish you from Heaven to Hell. On our trip, I’ve always protected you ‘nd now, I truly can, forever. No one can hurt you anymore, lamb.”

His words were kind, but his eyes were flooding colder.

“Every night I’ve repeated the same verse,” Rhett continued. “The one who does what is sinful is of the Devil because the Devil has been sinnin’ from the beginning.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and your head cocked slightly to the right in confusion. His roaming hand snaked over your shoulders and brushed over your neck, moving your stray strands of hair to sit behind you.

He was still like that for a while. His eyes never left the sight of the flesh on your neck. It felt as though time had stilled completely, and all that could be felt in the world was the moment of your Preacher’s hands resting lovingly on you.

Your body jumped an inch when he took in a deep gasp, as if to stir himself awake and that he had been sleeping with his eyes open. His thumb found his mark on your hipbone again and his eyes finally locked back to your concerned gaze. He moved the pad of his thumb over the scar in consistent circles.

“Y’ trust me, little lamb? To always protect you? Always keep y’ safe?”

You flinched again as his thumb left your hip to reach underneath the pillow where his head lay. Your breath hitched tightly in your throat and got caught in your lungs. Your rib cage constricted around you and your eyes went wide as they scanned the broad blade of Rhett’s hunting knife.

You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your eyes scanned frantically over your Preacher’s eyes, to try and find something you knew as familiar, to try and locate where Rhett was.

But they were cold and his Heavenly smirk was wiped from his features. Only a Devilish smirk lay on his lips. The same face you had witnessed in the forest.

“Rhett… Preacher Abbott, I do trust you. I know you’ll always keep me safe, here, in our home. Hell don’t scare me.” Your voice started to plead with him and came out barely above a whisper.

You were fearful of losing him.

“Please let me stay with you forever.”

“You poor thing. Sweet, mournin’ lamb. There’s nothing you can do, it’s already been done.”

The slice of the blade from Rhett’s hunting knife was thin and precise across your neck. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as you had imagined, not when God’s hands were holding onto your waist tenderly to keep you upright.

The first thing you saw was the blood. Your neck was spraying the crimson colour like the food court fountain in your home town. It splattered mindlessly across Rhett’s face and trickled down his intact neck, to stain his musky-coloured t-shirt. It wouldn’t stop pouring from your own, wouldn’t stop coating your neck and chest. It dribbled continuously onto your hand and down your forearms, as you clutched feebly at your neck with one hand. It was on instinct, you suppose.

The corners of your vision were growing bleaker with each passing second. Your eyes were piercing into Rhett’s own. He didn’t twitch or blink for the passing moments. Just a cold-blooded stare, except for the faint trace of that smile on his lips.

He mouthed something, but your hearing had all but gone by this point. It was draining out as the blood drained ceremoniously from your neck.

“I love you, Rhett,” You replied in thought, as you felt your hands and feet become unresponsive, the rest of your body turning cold.

Rhett watched as his hunting knife was quickly drawn across your neck and as your soul drained from the slit and fell into his lap. You were about to be his, forever.

“I’ll always love you,” Rhett spoke out loud.

“I love you, Rhett,” you gargled out between mouthfuls of your blood, some of it splattering further onto Rhett and coating him with you.

His hands on your waist were there to steady your chilling body as you limply fell forward onto him. He manoeuvred himself to slide out from underneath you and lay you down on the bed, to look as though you were sleeping peacefully to any passersby.

His hunting knife was laying next to you with your blood shining off it and coating it whole. He picked it up and twisted it in his hand, the reflection catching in the setting Arizona sun. He lifted it to his lips and his tongue darted out to catch the first, fresh droplets. They dripped down to the back of his throat and when he swallowed, his teeth were stained once again with your blood.

While your blood was still warm, his index finger dipped in between the incision and gathered up some more. It painted his finger his favourite colour and covered it whole. He eagerly popped it into his mouth and groaned as he tasted the bitter, yet sweet, metallic taste of his little lamb. Once removing his finger, he admired how it glistened in the low light cutting through his thin, lacy, bedroom curtains. Your blood had stained the tip of his finger, perfectly. It was like a piece of artwork you entrusted him with, which he would treasure forever.

With his hunting knife still in hand, he squatted down and reached under your bed to retrieve a ziplock bag. The knife fell heavy into the plastic and he zipped it shut and placed it carefully next to you.

A deep and guttural breath was inhaled through his nostrils, before he exhaled and sat down on the edge of your bed, next to your dead body. His hand didn’t shake as he reached up to your forehead and twisted a piece of your hair behind your ear. Another heavy breath left him before he spoke out into your now, empty home.

“Your dumb luck got you into this place, little lamb. You’re gon’ be with me forever now, trapped inside the stomach of the Devil. For even the Devil is a liar, ‘nd no wonder, for even Satan, disguises himself as an angel of light.”

You were “a little Daughter of Abbott,” as Rhett had described, who lied to their father about where they were going every evening. He knew that you were unsure about what you were doing with your life, and how your belief in your faith needed some guidance.

Rhett always knew. He just loved scratching it out of you. Scratching you to the surface. You were compliant and listened to him. You were his perfect Angel in the Garden of Eden. A true Daughter of Abbott.

They were just mundane Thursdays when you’d climb into the back of his truck under the night sky. He would shed his plaid shirt in a hurry, desperate to sink his teeth onto your shoulder and taste you, the salty summer sweat still lingering on your flesh.

He’d drop you off home in your backyard and say goodbye. You’d close the door and as you’d lean in to catch the lock, you’d kiss him through the screen door on the back porch. Your father was none the wiser, only calling out from the living room that it was a pleasure to see Father Abbott and he was so grateful he was providing you with such Holy guidance. If your father saw Rhett touching you as he did through the screen door, he’d scream, “Lord! Help me!”

Every Thursday you’d climb into Rhett’s truck. Every Thursday he would sink his teeth into your skin. Somewhere like South Arizona was looking better every week. Somewhere where Rhett didn’t have to kiss you through your screen door no more. You had always dreamed of running there, to those great big hills where the great big blue sky would tower over them and continue until they met the high Heavens.

Through the mesh screen door kisses, you had tasted love and it tasted sweet.

And now you were here, but Rhett had drank your blood and bit the meat of your flesh. But his teeth were sharper now, and it hurt. You didn’t want him to sink into you with his blood-stained dog teeth no more.

You wanted to beg and plead with him. You tried so hard.

“Baby! Please!”

But your attempt was futile. Your words never came as your body lay cold on your bed. How could you be so naive to the one good thing you know, in God’s country?

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @peachystenbrough

tagging those who may be interested: @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @lewmagoo @bradshawsbitch @sugarcoated-lame

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writing-yarn-goblin · 1 month

Text

GUESS WHAT, B*TCHES!

I’m baaaaaack!~

It’s March and I post whatever I fuckin’ want! Oh yeah, it’s a songfic!

Character: Sir Crocodile (a little bit of Katakuri Charlotte, but just a smidge)

Relationship: slight KatakurixXReader but also catching Sir Crocodile’s eye (and more)

Song: Sweet by Unlike Pluto

Warnings: forced marriage, drug mention, alcohol, Crocodile being himself

~*~

“Introducing for one night only! The beauty that pounds whiskey like a sailor and sings like an angel: (Y/N) (L/N)!”

You heard the crowd go wild.

The sigh that escaped your lips as you took a long drag of the almond-vanilla flavored cigar that was currently in between your gloved hands as you made your way to the stage.

The sway of your hips, the tight knee-high black dress with a sweetheart collar hugging your curves lusciously as your hair was kept messy, framing your face and to finish the look- a pair of Mary Jane kitten heel shoes.

Your lips were dark red but the rest of the make up was simple.

A little powder, cat-eye liner and blush.

A wink could decimate nations, said your fiancé once.

The lights on the stage were on you as the white fur coat you were wearing slid from your shoulders to your elbows as you gently gripped the microphone’s stand as your lips opened to do their thing.

“My baby and I like new silky sheets every night.

He buys me bourb' and whiskey neat,

And keeps on comin' every week…”

Your stare could only focus on the table were your lug of a fiancé was.

Charlotte Katakuri.

He seemed bored with his surroundings. Not really his scene but he had to keep up appearances as head of this town’s sweets factory. His mother made sure to pop out enough children to make an infuriatingly huge monopoly of different businesses just so she could have absolute control of most markets.

“Ooh, he wants the suburbs

When school's out for summer

And we live by his mother

I keep my drugs in the cupboard 'cause”

You could only look at him with a little spite.

“I'm only sweet when I'm high…”

You noticed that the normally serious face he wore suddenly made a move, his lips twitched downwards as he downed his LIT, completely in one gulp.

This finally got him.

He looked down at his drink as you kept singing your song, almost like if he was contemplating how guilty he felt to just have picked you from a line of potential wives his mother gave him and he just picked you.

Little, wild you.

You, whom he thought would be gracious enough to accept a marriage proposal out of the goodness of your heart.

‘What a shame’ he thought. ‘I thought this recent flight of fancy would keep her calm’ he argued with his head.

He didn’t noticed that he wasn’t the only one staring at the beauty with a savvy mouth.

He wasn’t the only magnate in this town.

“In class, I learned to lie

To pretty boys, to pass the time…”

She stared at him as she sang this particular verse.

How many times has she lied to him just to get him off her back?

How many times did she pretend to be okay in front of him?

How many times did her whispered words meant what they preached while he was in the passionate throes of sex?

He had it.

He stood up from his table and grabbed his coat, leaving on the table a shiny object with a scarp of paper that said “goodbye”.

He didn’t notice on his way out the door of the glare that was directed to him from the bar. Cigar smoke filtering out as he heard the man at the bar to bring the lady’s belongings to him, that he’d take care of her moving forward.

“'Cause I got that good shit, Alabastian pride.

Kiss the kids goodnight and take the Harley for a ride”

The man at the bar just grinned.

That seemed like Little Miss Sailor was in the market again.

Not that he had to do much.

She did it all her self in an act of defiance towards the softest yet most ruthless of the Charlotte’s. And she didn’t even get to the good part of this song.

The man at the bar was a tall man. Not as tall as Katakuri but still very tall. He had suffered the loss of a hand but that didn’t hinder him at all, he had prosthetics to make up for the loss of a limb, he just preferred the gold hook on his missing limb.

He saw how the lonely woman stared at the table bitterly, almost relieved that she didn’t have to talk to what he could firmly say was her boyfriend.

“Ooh, I get so bored, scrub the floors

Then get drunk while doing chores

Does he even know me…?”

He had enough of waiting.

“Waitress? I want that table.”

A woman like that deserved to be looked upon closely.

“Ooh, I'm never sure when he'll be home

Get into trouble on my own

I don't get lonely…”

You were still singing your little heart out as you batted your eyes to shake some of the tears. Katakuri wasn’t a bad man, but you would’ve rather to pick your own groom and wed because you wanted to.

Not because your own family wanted to have financial relief in these trying times.

Such was the life of the eldest daughter.

But no matter, you could firmly say that your groom-to-be was no longer in the horizon as he left with a disappointed frown.

“I’m only sweet when I’m high…”

You spoke the last verse, only to have the whole club erupt in howls and cheers.

With a bashful smile, you made your way behind the stage and down to the main floor.

You felt a little taken back when your things were on your usual table, but relieved when one of the waitresses directed you to your new table.

In the VIP section.

With your things.

You looked at how this dashing mystery man was taking a drag from his cigar and seemed to be pouring two glasses of champagne.

You had to be careful, however. This day and age, most men can and will do anything. But this man just massive and intimidating. The scar upon his face should’ve scared you but, you were used to men with…interesting features.

“Take a seat. We have a few things to converse about, Little desert flower.”

…to be continued?

#one piece #reader insert #x reader #i am unwell #fem reader #one piece fanfiction #songfic #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile x you

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hangmanbradshaw · 5 months

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guess this is the first time I send you an ask so HIIIII STEPH!

gonna go for the song 52 on your spotify wrapped for hangster 🩷

p.s.: your christmas stories are giving christmas movie-watching tradition vibes! still gotta read them but my heart always gets warm when a new notification arrives on my email

xoxo

Omg HI!!!!! Welcome, welcome :D

(omg I hope you love them when you read. they're definitely warming my heart writing them....enjoying it way too much)

Oooh 52 omg excellent choice. It's Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift soooo this was too much fun.

“Seresin.”

Jake froze where he was leaning against the bar as a warm body pressed against his side. He didn’t have to look to know who the voice belonged to- it was a sound that haunted his every thought, both waking and dreamed. He didn’t bother turning, hardly even flinched a muscle on the outside even as his heart pounded hard in his chest, turning his ears to cotton.

“Mickey, I’ll have another.” He said to the bartender, signaling at his empty glass. “Top shelf, on him.”

Mickey nodded and swiped the most expensive bottle from the shelf, pouring the amber liquid into his glass and sliding it over. Bradley didn’t argue it, he never did.

“Heard you were back in town. Take care of that business in LA?”

Jake hummed as he ran his finger over the edge of the glass. He kept his eyes focused there as he replied, “You know I did.”

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

“I didn’t.”

It was a lie. They both knew it.

Bradley didn’t signal for a drink, but that wasn’t surprising. He liked to be in control, hyper aware of everything despite how cool he always played it. He leaned his elbows back against the bar and looked out at the crowd as he said, “Rumor is something big is going down. FBI’s been raiding your places. They’re saying your dad’s lost his touch.”

“Are they now?”

“Sure are. A couple of your people have come to us, asked to pledge new loyalty.”

He finally turned and faced him, leaning on his own elbow as he stared at the deep brown that was focused on him. Bradley looked the same as he always did- short curls pushed back, dressed down in jeans and a ridiculous Hawaiian shirt compared to Jake’s perfectly pressed three piece suit. Two sides of the same coin, he’d always thought. The son of power always dressed like it verses the son who dressed it in his own way. If anyone else had tried to wear an outfit like that, they’d be laughed at. Bradley was revered.

“Any chance you’re gonna tell me those names?”

Bradley smirked, those eyes warming. “No way in hell, Hangman.”

“Mm. I’ll find them my own way.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” Bradley replied, lips curling smugly. “They’re scared, you know.”

“We’re dealing with it. You might as well hold off on dancing on our graves, cuz we ain’t dead yet. We still run this city.”

“Half of it. For now.”

He hummed again and shot his drink back in one go. Mickey raised the bottle in question, but he shook his head and tapped the bar as he stepped away. The crowd was thick, but they parted as easily as the red sea as he walked, waving his men off. He didn’t have to look back to know Bradley was throwing some bills on the bar and following, the sea staying clear for him as well, his own men hanging back.

The cold air of the city winter burned his skin as he pushed out the back door into the alleyway. He barely had two seconds to feel it before he was being turned and pushed back against the brick wall. A hand cupped the back of his head, protective and possessive as lips pressed against his. He let Bradley kiss him, let him have his fill just enough to quench his thirst before he pulled back. Bradley blinked at him, eyes wide and dark and still so thirsty, those massive hands of his scalding on his hips.

“How bad are things, really?”

“I told you, we’re handling it.”

One of Bradley’s hands moved to cup his cheek instead. He ran his thumb over his lip and said, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. If the infamous James Seresin finally falls, I’m getting you out.”

“Good luck with that.”

“We’ve already crossed every other line, what’s one more?”

He pulled back a bit and studied him for a moment. He was sure the surprise had to show when he said, “You’re serious. Fucking around with your rival’s one thing, you can’t seriously think-“

“My dad’s offered yours a deal.”

It stopped him dead in his tracks. Bradley’s words were rushed, serious. “What deal?”

“The bureau’s on your asses. What’s to say we won’t be next? You have half the city, we have the other…it’s time we remind them who’s in charge here.”

“You’re talking about joining forces?” He asked with a blink. “They’re never gonna go for that. No way in hell is he gonna trust that, not when you didn’t ask for anything.”

“We did though, and he agreed.”

“And what’s that?”

“You.” Bradley replied as he kissed him again. He pulled back and whispered against his lips. “The youngest son of James Seresin for the heir in waiting of the Bradshaw empire.”

His heart damn near froze in his chest. He pushed him back so he could look into his eyes when he said, “You traded for me.”

“I did. It’s you and me, baby.” Bradley said as he cupped his cheeks and ran his thumbs over the skin there. “We’re gonna run this fucking city."

#anyone else wanna play send 'em in!#thanks friend this was way too fun #asks #my fics

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cielrouge · 1 year

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2022 YA Reads by Authors of Color

After life (Blue Bloods) by Melissa De La Cruz: After defeating Lucifer and sacrificing the love of her life, Schuyler wakes up back in New York, only to discover that an alternate reality where Lucifer is alive and well and she is the only person who can defeat him.

Ain’t Burned All the Bright by Jason Reynolds: A smash-up of art and text for teens that viscerally captures what it is to be Black in America right now.

Akata Woman (The Nsibidi Scripts #3) by Nnedi Okorafor: 15-year-old Sunny embarks on a mission to find a precious object and return it to the spider deity Udide, but defeating the guardians of Udide's ghazal will put all of Sunny's hard lessons and abilities to the test.

All My Rage by Sabaa Tahir: A story crossing generations and continents and addressing themes of cultural identity, family, forgiveness, love, and loss; told through the eyes of two best friends, Salahudin and Noor, growing up as outcasts and trying to find a way out of a world set on destroying them.

All the Right Reasons by Bethany Mangle: Cara Hawn and her mother go to Key West to join a reality show to pair single parents. There, Cara meets Connor and now she must juggle her growing feelings while helping her mom pick a bachelor they both love.

Almost There: Twisted Tales by Farrah Rochon: A year after Tiana makes a deal with Dr. Facilier, she has her restaurant, but soon shadows begin to gather and Tiana must work with Naveen and Charlotte to set things right or risk losing her soul.

Alone Out Here by Riley Redgate: A thriller set in a future in which First Daughter Leigh Chen and 53 other teens end up on the only ship escaping a dying Earth and must contend with being the last hope for humanity's survival.

An Arrow to the Moon by Emily X.R. Pan: Star-crossed lovers Hunter Yee and Luna Chang must navigate their families’ enmity and secrets as everything around them begins to fall apart.

And We Rise: The Civil Rights Movement in Poems by Erica Martin: A powerful, impactful, eye-opening journey that explores through the Civil rights movement in 1950s-1960s America in spare and evocative verse, with historical photos.

Anne of Greenville by Mariko Tamaki: In this contemporary retelling, Anne Shirley, a queer, half-Japanese disco superfan, moves to a town that seems too small for her big personality and where she becomes embroiled in a series of dramatic and unfortunate events.

As Long as the Lemon Tree Grows by Zoulfa Katouh: Set during the Syrian Revolution, former pharmacy student Salama Kassab volunteers at a hospital in Homs. Secretly, though, she is desperate to find a way out. So desperate, that she has manifested a physical embodiment of her fear in the form of her imagined companion, Khawf .But even with Khawf pressing her to leave, Salama is torn between her loyalty to her country and her conviction to survive.

Ashes of Gold (Wings of Ebony #2) by J. Elle: In the heart-pounding conclusion to the Wings of Ebony duology, Rue makes her final stand to reclaim her people’s stolen magic.

Azar on Fire by Olivia Abtahi: 14-year-old Azar Rossi sets out to find her voice and win her local Battle of the Bands contest.

Bad at Love by Gabriela Martins: Ever since Daniel moved to L.A. from Brazil to join the band Mischief & Mayhem, he’s become the tabloids’ bad boy. When a chance encounter brings Daniel and Sasha together, Sasha sees an opportunity to get close to Daniel and write a story that will make a name for herself at the celebrity gossip magazine where she interns. But Daniel is surprisingly sweet and extremely cute—could she be falling for him?

Ballad & Dagger by Daniel Jose Older: When 16-year-old Mateo and Chela discover each other and their powers during a political battle between neighborhood factions, they set aside their differences to unravel the mystery behind their sunken homeland.

Beasts by Ruin (Beasts of Prey #2) by Ayana Gray: Now separated,16-year-old indentured beastkeeper Koffi and 17-year-old warrior candidate Ekon will have to find their way back to each other as they face off against the god of death.

Beauty and the Besharam by Lillie Vale: Exhausted by Kavya Joshi and Ian Jun’s years-long feud, their friends hatch a plan to end their rivalry by convincing them to participate in a series of challenges throughout the summer.

Before Takeoff by Adi Alsaid: Two teens, James and Michelle, meet and fall in love during a layover-gone-wrong at the Atlanta airport.

Beating Heart Baby by Lio Min: 17-year-old Santi Arboleda finally feels settled in his new life in Los Angeles with a growing found family and a relationship with musical prodigy Suwa - until Suwa is offered the chance to step into the spotlight that he has always denied himsel fand they must finally face their dreams, their pasts, and their futures, whether together or apart.

Beneath the Wide Silk Sky by Emily Inouye Huey: With the recent death of her mother and the possibility of her family losing their farm, Samantha Sakamoto does not have space in her life for dreams, but when faced with prejudice and violence in her Washington State community after Pearl Harbor, she becomes determined to use her photography to document the bigotry around her.

Bitter by Akwaeke Emezi: Pulled between old friendships, her creative passion, and a new romance, Bitter isn't sure where she belongs - in the art studio or in the streets. And if she does find a way to help the revolution while being true to who she is, she must also ask: at what cost?

The Black Girls Left Standing by Juliana Goodman: 16-year-old Beau Willet’s world is upended when her older sister is killed by a white cop who claims she was breaking into his house; desperate to find out what really happened, she sets out to find the only other witness who was there that night—her sister's boyfriend.

Blood Like Fate (Blood Like Magic #2) by Liselle Sambury: While struggling with her new role as Matriarch, Voya has a vision of a terrifying, deadly future, and with a newfound sense of purpose, she vows to do whatever it takes to bring her shattered community together and prevent the destruction of them all.

Blood Scion by Deborah Falaye: 15-year-old Sloane can incinerate an enemy at will—she is a Scion, a descendant of the ancient Orisha gods. But when she is forcibly conscripted into the Lucis army, Sloane sees a new opportunity: to overcome the bloody challenges of Lucis training, and destroy them from within.

Bloodmarked (Legendborn #2) by Tracy Deonn: When the Regents reveal they will do whatever it takes to hide an ancient war, Bree and her friends must go on the run to rescue Nick. If Bree has any hope of saving herself and the people she loves, she must learn to control her powers from the ancestors who wielded them first—without losing herself in the process.

Boys I Know by Anna Gracia: High school senior June Chu navigates messy boys and messier relationships.

Boys of the Beast by Monica Zepeda: Cousins Matt, Ethan and Oscar embark on a road trip through California and the Southwest come to terms with truths about their families and themselves.

Break This House by Candice Iloh: Yaminah Okar left Obsidian and the wreckage of her family years ago. She and her father have made lives for themselves in Brooklyn. But when a Facebook message about her estranged mother pierces Yaminah’s new bubble, she must finally reckon with the truth about her mother and the growing collapse of a place she once called home.

Briarcliff Prep by Brianna Peppins: In this coming-of-age story, Avi LeBeau juggles navigating her first year at a historically Black boarding school after she learns a devastating secret about her big sister’s boyfriend.

Burn Down, Rise Up by Vincent Tirado: When an urban legend rumored to trap people inside subway tunnels seems to be behind mysterious disappearances in the Bronx, 16-year-old Raquel and her friends team up to save their city--and confront a dark episode in its history in the process.

Cafe Con Lychee by Emery Lee: A dual pov enemies-to-lovers contemporary romcom following Theo Mori and Gabe Moreno, rival sons of competing family businesses--a Puerto Rican bakery and an Asian American cafe--who form an unlikely alliance running an underground coffee and boba shop at school after a new fusion cafe threatens their parents' stores.

The Chandler Legacies by Abdi Nazemian: At Chandler, the elite boarding school, five teens are brought together in the Circle, a coveted writing group where life-changing friendships are born—and secrets are revealed.

The Charmed List by Julie Abe: 16-year-old Ellie Kobata’s summer plans to shed her wallflower persona are upended when she is forced to go on a road trip to the Magical Retailers' Convention with her former best friend Jack Yasuda, but what starts out as a punishment turns into an opportunity to find forgiveness and possibly love.

Cherish Farrah by Bethany C. Morrow: 17-year-old Farrah Turner manipulates her way into lives of her Black best friend Cherish Whitman’s white adopted family, but she soon begins to suspect that she may not be the only one invested in engineering a place in the affluent household, and someone else's motives may be more disturbing than her own.

The Chosen One by Echo Brown: Anchored in magical realism, a personal account of a first-generation African-American student's first year at Dartmouth College.

Cinder & Glass by Melissa de la Cruz: In this lush, retold fairy tale classic, Cendrillon “Cinder” de Louvois catches the eye of the handsome Prince Louis and his younger brother Auguste at a royal ball. As Cinder grows closer to Auguste and dislikes Louis more and more, she will have to decide if she can bear losing the boy she loves in order to leave a life she hates.

Cold by Mariko Tamaki: Told in alternating perspectives, Todd replays the events that lead to his death in the local park, watching as detectives investigate his murder and talk to the students responsible for it, and meanwhile Georgia, who does not know Todd, cannot stop thinking about him.

The Color of the Sky Is The Shape of the Heart by Chesil: Inspired by a mysterious message, 17-year-old Ginny Park sets off to find herself as she reflects on her experiences of growing up Zainichi, an ethnic Korean born in Japan, and the incident that forced her to leave years prior.

Confessions of An Alleged Good Girl by Joya Coffney: In small-town Texas, preacher’s daughter Monique embarks on journey toward loving herself and her body, as well as discovering the value of a true friend.

The Darkening by Sunya Mara: Vesper Vale is the daughter of revolutionaries. Failed revolutionaries. When her mother was caught by the queen's soldiers, they gave her a choice: death by the hangman's axe, or death by the Storm that surrounds the city and curses anyone it touches. She chose the Storm. And when the queen's soldiers--led by a paranoid prince--catch up to Vesper's father after twelve years on the run, Vesper will do whatever it takes to save him from sharing that fate.

Daughters of the Dawn by Sarena & Sasha Nanua: Twin princesses Ria and Rani journey deep into dangerous new lands to save their home in this propulsive, immersive sequel to Sisters of the Snake.

Dauntless by Elisa A. Bonnin: Seri, Borderland teen and new assistant to Eshai Unbroken, local commander of the Valiants, may be the only person who can bridge the divide between the People who build their dwellings in the spreading trees and the "beasts" who roam the forest floors.

The Dawn of Yangchen by F.C. Yee: Plagued by the voices of Avatars before her for as long as she can remember, Yangchen has not yet earned the respect felt for her predecessor. When she travels to Bin-Er on political business, a chance encounter with an informant named Kavik leads to a wary partnership. As Yangchen and Kavik seek to thwart the corrupt shangs’ plan, their unlikely friendship deepens. But for Yangchen to chart her course as a singularly powerful Avatar, she must learn to rely on her own wisdom.

Dead Flip by Sara Farizan: 18-year-old former friends Cori and Maz reunite to solve the mystery of what happened to their other friend Sam--who disappeared 5 years ago and has now returned, not having aged at all.

Debating Darcy by Sayantani DasGupta: A life-long speech competitor, Leela Bose loves nothing more than crushing the competition. But when Leela meets the incorrigible Firoze Darcy, a fellow competitor in the state league, she can’t stand him. But Leela’s participation in the tournament reveals that she might have misjudged the debaters - including Darcy.

Deep in Providence by Riss A. Neilson: After Jasmine is killed, her remaining best friends Miliani, Inez, and Natalie plan to resurrect her using magic learned from Miliani's Filipino aunt, but their actions have dangerous consequences that threaten themselves and those they care about.

Diamond Park by Phillipe Diederich: When four Mexican-American teenagers from Houston travel to Diamond Park to buy a 1959 Chevy Impala from Magaña's godfather, something goes very wrong, and one of them, Susi, ends up arrested for murder. Convinced that the real killer is a drug trafficker called Anaconda, Flaco and Magaña head to Mexico hunting for him to clear Susi's name--but in the process of kidnapping Anaconda Flaco discovers how little he understands about what really happened in Diamond Park.

Direwood by Catherine Yu: After Aja’s perfect older sister Fiona disappears when a strange weather event isolates their town, she must put her trust in a vicious but alluring vampire if she wants to see her sister again.

Does My Body Offend You? by Mayra Cuevas & Marie Marquardt: A coming-of-age story told in two points of view, about Puerto Rican teen Malena Rosario who seeks justice after running afoul of her school's sexist dress code, and Ruby McAllister, the white girl who wants to help her lead "the bra-bellion" but must first learn how to become an effective ally; exploring themes of implicit bias, social activism, and female friendship

The Dragon’s Promise (Six Crimson Cranes #2) by Elizabeth Lim: Princess Shiori made a deathbed promise to return the dragon's pearl to its rightful owner, but keeping that promise is more dangerous than she ever imagined.

The Dream Runners by Shveta Thakar: Spirited away to the subterranean realm of Nagalok as children, 17-year-olds Tanvi and Venkat are charged with harvesting human dreams for the entertainment of the naga court--until one of them begins to remember the mortal life she left behind.

Drizzle, Dreams and Lovestruck Things by Maya Prasad: Sisters Nidhi, Avani, Sirisha, and Rani experience romance and coming-of-age while working at their family's inn on Orcas Island.

Echoes of Grace by Guadalupe Garcia McCall: On the Texas-Mexico border, 18-year-old Grace's relationship with her older sister Mercy is fractured when Mercy's two-year-old son dies in an accident, bringing to the surface old family traumas and literal ghosts as the family struggles to heal.

The Empress of Time by Kylie Lee Baker: Half Reaper, half Shinigami soul collector Ren Scarborough must defend her title as Japan's Death Goddess from those who would see her--and all of Japan--destroyed.

Empress Crowned in Red by Ciannon Smart: Witches Iraya and Jazmyne must once again work together as a new enemy threatens Aiyca, even as betrayal lurks around every corner.

Even When Your Voice Shakes by Ruby Yayra Goka: After Amberley is raped by her employer's son she realizes she two choices--stay quiet and keep her job or live her truth and speak up for herself and for justice.

Every Variable of Us by Charles A. Bush: After she is injured in a gang shooting, 17-year-old Alexis Duncan's dreams of a college scholarship and pro basketball career vanish, but, encouraged by new student Aamani Chakrabarti, Alexis shifts her focus to the school's STEM quiz bowl team.

Everyone Hates Kelsie Miller by Meredith Ireland: Kelsie Miller and Eric Mulvaney Ortiz, rivals for valedictorian, team up on an overnight road trip to the University of Pennsylvania to win back their exes.

Feather and Flame: The Queen’s Council #2 by Livia Blackburne: Mulan goes from a celebrated war hero to a reluctant Empress and must once again rise above expectations and prove she doesn't have to be anyone but herself to save China.

No Filter and Other Lies by Crystal Maldonado: 17-year-old Kat Sanchez uses photos of a friend to create a fake Instagram account, but when one of her posts goes viral and exposes Kat's duplicity, her entire world--both real and pretend--comes crashing down around her.

The Final Strife by Saara El-Arifi: Sylah dreams of days growing up in the resistance, being told she would spark a revolution that would free the Empire from the red-blooded ruling classes' tyranny. Anoor has been told she’s nothing, no one, a disappointment, by the only person who matters: her mother, the most powerful ruler in the empire. But when Sylah and Anoor meet, a fire burns between them that could consume the kingdom—and their hearts. Hassa’s invisibility has its uses: it can hide the most dangerous of secrets, secrets that can reignite a revolution. As the Empire begins a set of trials of combat and skill designed to find its new leaders, the stage is set for blood to flow, power to shift, and cities to burn.

Finding Jupiter by Kellis Rowe: Teens Orion and Ray meet at the local Memphis skating rink and fall fast and hard into summer love, until a mystery from their past threatens to rip them—and their families—apart, even if their love is written in the stars.

Fireworks by Alice Lin: 17-year-old Lulu Li’s summer plans go awry when she learns that Kite Xu, her old next-door neighbor and childhood friend, returns. But how could a K-pop star ever fall for a nobody from home?

The First to Die at the End by Adam Silvera: Strangers Orion Pagan and Valentino Prince spend a life-changing day together after Death-Cast first makes their fateful calls.

Flip the Script by Lyla Lee: Korean American actress Hana Jin she can totally handle her fake co-star boyfriend and K-pop star, Bryan Yoon, who might be falling in love with her. But when showrunners bring on a new girl, Minjee Park, to challenge Hana’s role as main love interest—can Hana fight for her position on the show while falling for her on-screen rival in real life?

Foul Lady Fortune by Chloe Gong: In 1931 Shanghai, two Nationalist spies, Rosalind Lang and Orion Hong, pose as a married couple to investigate a series of brutal murders causing unrest in the city.

The Genesis Wars (Infinity Courts #2) by Akemi Dawn Bowman: Nami has escaped Ophelia and the Courts of Infinity, and found refuge in the Borderlands; she has spent her days training her body and mind so that when the time comes she will be able to navigate Infinity and rescue her captured friends, and now she has made a breakthrough, gaining the ability to enter minds without permission--the answers she needs are in Prince Caelan's mind, but his betrayal has left her unsure.

The Getaway by Lamar Giles: After a global catastrophe, Jay discovers the world-famous vacation resort where he lives and works doubles as a luxury doomsday refuge for the cruel billionaires he's now trapped with.

The Ghosts of Rose Hill by R. M. Romero: Sent to stay with her aunt in Prague and witness the humble life of an artist, Ilana Lopez—a biracial Jewish girl—finds herself torn between her dream of becoming a violinist and her immigrant parents’ desire for her to pursue a more stable career.

The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh: In this retelling of Shim Cheong, 16-year-old Mina is swept away to the Spirit Realm, where, assisted by a motley crew of demons, gods, and lesser spirits, she sets out to awaken the sleeping Sea God and save her homeland and family from deadly storms.

A Girl’s Guide to Love & Magic by Debbie Rigaud: 15-year-old Haitian American Cicely is excited to celebrate the West Indian Day Parade with her aunt, and voodoo dabbler, Mimose, but when Mimose's dabbling goes awry and she becomes possessed by a spirit, Cicely, Renee, and Kwame, her crush, must find a way to set things right.

Godslayers (Gearbreakers #2) by Zoe Hana Mikuta: Eris and Sona are pitted against each other in the ongoing war between Godolia and the Badlands.

Great or Nothing by Caroline Tung Richmond & Joy McCullough & Tess Sharpe & Jessica Spotwood: A reimagining of Little Women set in the spring of 1942, when the United States is suddenly embroiled in the second World War, this story, told from each March sister's point of view, is one of grief, love, and self-discovery.

Heartbreak Symphony by Laekan Zea Kemp: When Aarón Medrano and Mia Villanueva cross paths, Aarón sees a chance to get close to the girl he’s had a crush on for years and to finally feel connected to someone since losing his mother. Mia sees a chance to hold herself accountable by making them both face their fears. But soon they’ll realize there’s something much scarier than getting up on stage—falling in love with a broken heart.

Her Rebel Highness by Diana Ma (Daughters of the Dynasty #2): High school senior Lei unexpectedly finds love amid the student protests in Beijing in 1989, forcing her to choose between her family and its legacy or her future with a revolutionary leader.

High Spirits by Camille Gomera Tavarez: a collection of eleven interconnected short stories from the Dominican diaspora, centered on one extended family, the Beléns, across multiple generations.

Hollow Fires by Samira Ahmed: After discovering the body of 14-year-old Jawad Ali in Jackson Park, 17-year-old journalism student Safiya Mirza begins investigating his murder and ends up confronting white supremacy in her own high school.

How Maya Got Fierce by Sonia Charaipotra: When her dream of working at Fierce, a popular magazine, comes true, 17-year-old Maya Gera gets the scoop on a huge story, but wonders how long she can keep up the charade of being older than she really is

How to Date a Superhero by Cristina Fernandez: When Astrid discovers that her boyfriend is a superhero, she must learn how to survive their relationship, college life, and figuring out who she is.

How to Live Without You by Sarah Everett: 17-year-old Emmy returns home for the summer to uncover the truth behind her sister Rose’s disappearance—only to learn that Rose had many secrets, ones that have Emmy questioning herself and the sister Emmy thought she knew

How to Succeed in Witchcraft by Aislinn Brophy: Half-Black witch Shay Johnson is cast as the lead in her school musical and must decide between exposing her predatory drama teacher and getting the scholarship she desperately needs.

How You Grow Wings by Rimma Onoseta: Sisters Cheta and Zam's paths to break free of their oppressive home diverge wildly--one moves into an aunt's luxurious home and the other struggles to survive on her wits alone--and when they finally reunite, Zam realizes how far Cheta has fallen, leaving Cheta's fate in Zam's hands.

I Guess I Live Here Now by Claire Ahn: Korean-American teen Melody Lee is uprooted from her life in Manhattan and relocated to her father's villa in Seoul, plunges into a whirlwind of culture shock and family secrets as she struggles to reconcile her identity in a place she's supposed to call home.

I Rise by Marie Arnold: 14-year-old Ayo has to decide whether to take on her mother's activist role when her mom is shot by police. As she tries to find answers, Ayo looks to the wisdom of her ancestors and her Harlem community for guidance.

If You Could See the Sun by Ann Liang: Alice Sun, upon discovering she can no longer afford tuition at her elite Beijing boarding school, teams up with her academic rival Henry Li and monetizes her strange new invisibility powers by discovering and selling her wealthy classmates' most scandalous secrets.

If You Still Recognize Me by Cynthia So: Elsie has a crush on Ada, the only person in the world who truly understands her. Unfortunately, they've never met in real life. But Elsie has decided it's now or never to tell Ada how she feels. That is, until her long-lost best friend Joan walks back into her life.In a summer of repairing broken connections and building surprising new ones, Elsie realizes that she isn't nearly as alone as she thought.

In Every Generation by Kendare Blake: Follow the next generation of Scoobies and Slayers who must defeat a powerful new evil.

Inheritance: A Visual Poem by Elizabeth Acevedo: In her most famous spoken-word poem, author of the Pura Belpr-winning novel-in-verse The Poet X Elizabeth Acevedo embraces all the complexities of Black hair and Afro-Latinidad--the history, pain, pride, and powerful love of that inheritance.

The Iron Sword by Julie Kagawa: Prince Ash achieved the impossible and journeyed to the End of the World to earn a soul and keep his vow to always stand beside Queen Meghan of the Iron Fey. Now he faces even more incomprehensible odds. Their son, King Keirran of the Forgotten, is missing.

It Sounds Like This by Anna Meriano: A sweet and nerdy contemporary YA novel set in the world of marching band.

The Ivory Key by Akshaya Raman: Four estranged royal siblings, each harboring secrets and conflicting agendas, must learn to work together as they search for the Ivory Key, which will lead to a new source of magic.

Just Your Local Bisexual Disaster by Andrea Mosqueda: Following a self-described romantic disaster living in the Rio Grande Valley, bisexual Chicana Maggie Gonzalez tries to figure out whom she wants to ask to be her escort at her little sister's upcoming quinceanera: her charming ex-boyfriend twice over, her first crush and gorgeous best friend, or the mysterious new girl with the romantic baggage?

The Kindred by Alechia Dow: A royal, Duke Felix Hamdi and a commoner, Joy Abara, mistakenly mind-paired at birth, land on Earth after fleeing royal assassins, only to find the "developing" planet might hold the solutions to their divided and unjust lives back home.

Kings of B’more by R. Eric Thomas: Set in Baltimore, a celebration of queer Black friendship as two boys, Harrison and Linus, plan a day of fun and facing their fears.

Kiss & Tell by Adib Khorram: On Kiss & Tell's first major tour, lead singer Hunter Drake grapples with a painful breakup with his first boyfriend, his first rebound, and the stress of what it means to be queer in the public eye.

K-Pop Revolution (K-Pop Confidential #2) by Stephan Lee: She thought that debuting in a K-pop band was the finish line, but it was only the beginning. Because now it's not only Candace Park’s company judging her--it's the entire world. How will she find the courage to stand by her beliefs, even when powerful forces are trying to shame and silence her?

Lakelore by Anna-Marie McLemore: Two non-binary teens, Bastián Silvano and Lore Garcia, are pulled into a magical world under a lake - but can they keep their worlds above water intact?

Lark & Kasim Start a Revolution by Kacen Callender: 17-year-old nurodivergent and nonbinary Lark pretends that they are the creator of a viral thread that their ex-best friend, Kasim, accidentally posted onto their Twitter account, declaring his unrequited love, but living a lie takes its toll on Lark, forcing them to deal with their own messy emotions.

The Lesbiana’s Guide to Catholic School by Sonora Reyes: 16-year-old Mexican American Yami Flores starts Catholic school, determined to keep her brother out of trouble and keep herself closeted, but her priorities shift when Yami discovers that her openly gay classmate Bo is also annoyingly cute.

The Lies We Tell by Katie Zhao: During her freshman year at college, Anna Xu investigates the unsolved on-campus murder of her former babysitter, as she and an old rival have to team up to look into the hate crimes happening around campus.

The Loophole by Naz Kutub: Sy, a 17-year-old queer Indian-Muslim boy, travels the world for a second chance at love after a possibly magical heiress grants him three wishes.

The Lost Dreamer by Lizz Huerta: In this fantasy inspired by ancient Mesoamerica, a lineage of seers defiantly resists the shifting patriarchal state that would see them destroyed.

Love, Decoded by Jennifer Yen: In this contemporary NYC-set retelling of Emma, high school junior Gigi Wong is determined to be picked for a contest that could lead to an exclusive tech internship, but when her matchmaking app goes viral Gigi must deal with the unexpected consequences of helping her friends find love.

Love From Mecca to Medina by S.K. Ali: Adam and Zayneb embark on the Umrah, a pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina, in Saudi Arabia, but as one wedge after another drives them apart while they make their way through rites in the holy city, Adam and Zayneb start to wonder if their meeting was just an oddity after all.

Love Radio by Ebony LaDelle: Clever teen DJ Prince Jones, always full of love advice for his friends and classmates meets his match in Dani Ford, who is an anti-romance and would rather be preparing to be the next great novelist.

Love Times Infinity by Lane Clarke: 16-year-old Michie is busy with big dreams for college and the biggest crush on the school's new basketball superstar, Derek de la Rosa—but when her estranged mother suddenly reappears in her life, she faces important questions about the chances she's willing to take on herself and her future,

Loveboat Reunion (Loveboat #2) by Abigail Hing Wen: Sophie Ha and Xavier Yeh find themselves on a wild, nonstop Loveboat reunion, hatching a joint plan to take control of their futures. Can they succeed together or are they destined to combust?

Lulu and Milagro’s Search for Clarity by Angela Velez: Two sisters become begrudging partners on their school's cross-country field trip to college campuses as they uncover family secrets, confront weighty expectations for their futures, and discover the true meaning of sisterhood.

The Man or the Monster by Aamna Qureshi: Durkhanai Miangul sealed her lover’s fate when she sent him through a door where either a lady or a lion awaited him. But Durkhanai’s decision was only the beginning of her troubles. Her presumed-dead father comes back with a vengeance, but her family’s denial of his revenge forces Durkhanai to take matters into her own hands.

A Magic Steeped in Poison by Judy Lin: Ning enters a cutthroat magical competition to find the kingdom's greatest master of the art of brewing tea, but political schemes and secrets make her goal of gaining access to royal physicians to cure her dying sister far more dangerous than she imagined.

A Venom Dark and Sweet (The Book of Tea #2) by Judy Lin: A great evil has come to the kingdom of Dàxi. The Banished Prince has returned to seize power and Ning has escorted Princess Zhen into exile. Joining them is the princess' loyal bodyguard, Ruyi, and Ning's newly healed sister, Shu. Together the four young women travel throughout the kingdom in search of allies to help oust the invaders and take back Zhen's rightful throne.

Meet Me in Mumbai by Sabina Khan: A novel in two acts, told 18 years apart; in the first, teenage mother Ayesha grapples with the decision whether to place her daughter Mira for adoption; in the second, her daughter wonders what she will find after discovering an old letter from her birth mother asking to meet in Mumbai on her 18th birthday.

Master of Souls (Kingdom of Souls #3) by Rena Barron: Arrah must decipher the legacy of her past and weave an uneasy alliance between her beloved Rudjek, the Demon King, and the remaining orishas, hoping to restore peace.

The Merciless Ones by Namina Forna: It's been 6 months since Deka freed the goddesses in the ancient kingdom of Otera and discovered who she really is. Yet hidden secrets threaten to destroy everything Deka has known. And with her own gifts changing, Deka must discover if she holds the key to saving Otera or if she might be its greatest threat.

A Million to One by Adiba Jaigirdar: An acrobat, an actress, an artist, and a thief, four girls who seemingly have nothing in common, work together and plot a heist to steal the Rubaiyat off the Titanic.

Monsters Born and Made by Tanvi Berwan: 16-year-old Korwal, from a family of sea-monster trainers, sacrifices everything to be the first of her caste to compete in a monstrous chariot race in an effort to save her sister's life.

Murder of Crows by K. Ancrum: Tig Torres investigates Hollow Falls' horrific history in this original novel based on the hit podcast Lethal Lit.

My Mechanical Romance by Alexene Farol Follmuth: High school senior Bel Maier has an aptitude for engineering and teams up with robotics team captain, Mateo Luna, but after a rough start together the nights of after-school work lead to romance.

My Sister’s Big Fat Indian Wedding by Sajni Patel: 17-year-old aspiring violinist Zurika Damani must secretly juggle the obligations of her sister's extravagant wedding week with auditions for a prominent music competition—all while trying to dodge her boisterous family's matchmaking scheme with the groom’s South African cousin Naveen—who just happens to be a cocky vocalist set on stealing Zuri’s spotlight at the scouting competition.

The New Girl by Jesse Q. Sutanto: A transfer student and scholarship recipient, sophomore Lia Setiawan is angered when she discovers a cheating ring, but by the time she finds a dead body and shuts down the campus drug dealer, she fears she might be the biggest snake in the Draycott Academy nest of vipers.

Night of the Raven, Queen of the Dove by Rati Mehrotra: After a bloody palace uprising, Katyani, a young guardswoman to the royal family, discovers she is not who she thought she was and becomes a major pawn in the political games of a monster-filled land on the brink of war.

The Noh Family by Grace K. Shim: Chloe Chang travels to Seoul to meet her deceased father's ultra-rich family, but she soon begins to wonder if her new family's intentions are pure.

Nothing Burns As Bright as You by Ashley Woodfolk: A novel-in-verse that tells the story of a tumultuous romance between two queer girls in nonlinear chapters, anchored by a single day where they set a fire and their relationship spirals out of control.

Nubia: The Awakening by Omar Epps & Clarence A. Haynes: In a climate-ravaged New York deeply divided by class, Zuberi, Uzochi, and Lencho, three teens of refugees from a fallen African utopia, begin to develop supernatural powers.

Okoye to the People by Ibi Zoboi: Okoye is a new recruit for T'Chaka's royal guard: the Dora Milaje. But when Okoye is sent on her very first mission—to America—she'll learn that her status as a Dora means nothing to New Yorkers and her expectations for the world outside of her own quickly fall apart.Caught between duty to her country and listening to her own heart, Okoye must find her own way and determine the type of Dora Milaje—and woman—she wants to be.

Once Upon a K-Prom by Kat Cho: Instead of going to prom, 17-year-old Elena Soo wants to spend her time saving the local community center, and she is determined to keep her priorities straight even when her childhood best friend Robbie Choi--who is now a K-pop superstar--returns to make good on their old pact to go to prom together.

One True Loves (Happily Ever Afters #2) by Elise Bryant: While on a post-graduation Mediterranean cruise with her family, Lenore Bennett meets a hopeless romantic with a ten-year plan who helps her find something she's been looking for--love.

Only a Monster by Vanessa Len: Set in contemporary London, in which a 16-yer-old half-monster Joan must embrace her own monstrousness to stop the boy she loves, who turns out to be a legendary monster slayer, from killing everyone she cares about.

Only On The Weekends by Dean Atta: A romantic coming-of-age novel in verse about the beautiful--and sometimes painful--fallout of pursuing the love we deserve.

Ophelia After All by Racquel Marie: 17-year-old Ophelia Rojas, well known for her rose garden and her dramatic crushes on every boy in sight, begins to question her sexuality and sense of self when she starts to fall for cute, quiet Talia Sanchez in the weeks leading up to their prom and graduation.

The Other Side of the Tracks by Charity Alyse: In the racially divided towns of Bayside and Hamilton, Zach Whitman moves in and befriends Black siblings Capri and Justin Collins, until one of their friends is murdered by police, and the longstanding feud between the towns erupts into an all-out war, with the three caught in the middle.

Our Shadows Have Claws: 15 Latin American Monster Stories edited by Yamile Mendez & Amparo Ortiz: 15 original short stories from YA superstars featuring the monsters of Latine myths and legends.

Pixels of You by Ananth Hirsh & Yuko Ota: In a near future New York City of cyber augmentation and artificial intelligence, Indira and Fawn, two competitive interns in an art gallery, work together on a photography project, turning a rivalry into a friendship and perhaps something more.

Private Label by Kelly Yang: Chinese American Serene who gets help from the new boy in town, Lian Chen, to search for her dad after her successful fashion designer mother is diagnosed with cancer.

Queen of the Tiles by Hanna Alkaf: 15-year-old Najwa Bakri is forced to investigate the mysterious death of her best friend and Scrabble Queen, Trina, a year after the fact when her Instagram comes back to life with cryptic posts and messages.

Rebel Skies by Ann Sei Lin: Kurara has never known any other life than being a servant on board the Midori, but when her party trick of making paper come to life turns out to be a power treasured across the empire, she joins a skyship and its motley crew to become a Crafter. Taught by the gruff but wise Himura, Kurara learns to hunt shikigami - wild paper spirits who are sought after by the Princess. But are these creatures just powerful slaves for the Crafters and the empire, or are they beings with their own souls - and yet another thing to be subjugated by the powerful Emperor and his Princess?

Reclaim the Stars: 17 Tales Across Realms & Space edited by Zoraida Cordova: In this collection of stories by acclaimed young adult authors the Latin American diaspora travels to places of fantasy and out into space.

The Red Palace by June Hur: Set in 1700s Joseon Korea, while investigating a series of grisly murders, 18-year-old palace nurse Hyeon navigates royal and political intrigue and becomes entangled with a young police inspector.

Required Reading for the Disenfranchised Freshman by Kristen R. Lee: Upon arriving at the prestigious Wooddale University, 17-year-old Savannah Howard comes face-to-face with microaggressions and outright racism--but if she stands up for justice, will she endanger her future?

Right Where I Left You by Julian Winters: The summer before he leaves for college, 18-year-old Isaac Martin makes big plans with his best friend Diego that only the reappearance of an old crush can derail.

Road of the Lost by Nafiza Azad: Croi is compelled by a summoning spell leave her home in the Wilde Forest and travel into the Otherworld, where the enchantment that made her into a brownie begins to break, revealing her true identity, her hidden magick, and her forgotten heritage.

The Rumor Game by Dhonielle Clayton & Sona Charaipotra: At Foxham Prep, a posh private school for Washington, D.C.'s elite, a rumor gains momentum as it collects followers on social media, pulling three girls into its path--Bryn, who wants to erase all memories of the mistake she made last summer; cheer captain Cora, who desperately wants to believe in her boyfriend's faithfulness; and shy Georgie, newly hot after a summer at fat camp and ready to reinvent herself--but who can stop a dangerous rumor once it takes on a life of its own?

Rust in the Root by Justina Ireland: It is 1937, and Laura Ann Langston lives in an America divided—between those who work the mystical arts and those who do not. In New York City, she embarks on a mission with Skylark, a powerful mage with a mysterious past, into the heart of the country’s oldest and most mysterious Blight. There, they discover the work of mages not encountered since the darkest period in America’s past, when Black mages were killed for their power—work that could threaten Laura’s and the Skylark’s lives.

Salaam, With Love by Sara Sharaf Beg: Dua struggles to find her place in her conservative family's household, but as she spends the month of Ramadan with her cousin in Queens, Dua finds herself learning more about her faith, relationships, and place in the world.

Salt and Sugar by Rebecca Carvalho: A telenovela-esque rom-com debut that follows the grandchildren of two rival Brazilian bakeries, Lari Ramires and Pedro Molina, who fall in love despite their families' feud while working to win a contest that would save both of their bakeries from being driven out by a predatory supermarket chain.

Scout’s Honor by Lily Anderson: Following a biracial Puerto Rican teen, Prudence Perry, born into a family of highly ranked Ladybird Scouts, elite monster hunters masquerading as a prim and proper ladies' social club who gave up her tea set and daggers after her best friend was killed, but now must return to the scouts to face the biggest monster of all: her past.

A Secret Princess by Margaret Stohl & Melissa De La Cruz: A romantic YA retelling-mashup of A Little Princess and The Secret Garden by bestselling authors Margaret Stohl and Melissa de la Cruz.

Self-Made Boys by Anna-Marie McLemore: Three teens, Nicolás Caraveo, Daisy Fabrega, and Jay Gatsby, chase their own version of the American Dream during the Roaring 20s in this YA remix of The Great Gatsby.

Seoulmates by Susan Lee: Recently dumped high school nobody Hannah Cho must face her unresolved feelings for her childhood best friend, Jacob Kim, when he returns to their San Diego hometown as the newest K-drama heartthrob—and blackmails her into completing his summer bucket list with him.

Seton Girls by Charlene Thomas: The quarterback of Seton Academy prep school wants a state championship before his successor, Seton's first Black QB, has a chance to overshadow him, leading him to take bigger risks, and soon the team's awful secret leaks to a group of girls who suddenly have the power to change their world.

Shattered Midnight by Dhonielle Clayton: In 1920s New Orleans, 18-year-old Zora Broussard banished after an incident in Harlem, struggles with her overbearing family, magical powers, love of jazz, and forbidden romance with white pianist Philip.

She Gets the Girl by Rachel Lippincott & Alyson Derrick: Alex Blackwood is a little bit headstrong, with a dash of chaos and a whole lot of flirt. She knows how to get the girl. Keeping her on the other hand…not so much. Molly Parker has everything in her life totally in control, except for her complete awkwardness with just about anyone besides her mom. She knows she’s in love with the impossibly cool Cora Myers. She just…hasn’t actually talked to her yet.

A Show For Two by Tashie Bhuiyan: Mina’s ticket to winning a film competition falls into her lap when indie film star—and known heartbreaker—Emmitt Ramos enrolls in her high school under a secret identity to research his next role. They strike a deal to work together, and as Mina ventures across the five boroughs with Emmitt by her side, the city she grew up in starts to look different and more. With the competition deadline looming, Mina's dreams—which once seemed impenetrable—begin to crumble, and she’s forced to ask herself: Is winning worth losing everything?

The Signs and Wonders of Tuna Rashad by Natasha Deen: Following Tuna Rashad, always on the lookout for messages from her Caribbean ancestors who have passed on, as she tries to win over her crush before she leaves for college.

The Silence That Binds Us by Joanna Ho: In the year following their son's death, May Chen's parents face racist accusations of putting too much pressure on their son and causing his death by suicide, and May attempts to challenge the racism and ugly stereotypes through her writing, only to realize that she still has a lot to learn and that her actions have consequences for her family as well as herself.

Slip by Marika McCoola & Aatmaja Pandya: An emotional coming-of-age graphic novel for fans of Bloom and Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me.

Somebody That I Used to Know by Dana L. Davis: Aspiring musician Dylan Woods is forced to reunite with her ex–best friend Langston—who just happens to be the world’s biggest teen star.

Soul of the Deep (Skin of the Sea #2) by Natasha Bowen: To save those closest to her, Simi traded away everything: her freedom, her family, and the boy she loves. Now she is sworn to serve a new god, watching over the Land of the Dead at the bottom of the ocean.But when signs of demons begin to appear, it's clear there are deeper consequences of Simi's trade. With the fate of the world at stake, Simi must break her promise and team up with a scheming trickster of a god.

Spin Me Right Round by David Valdes: Luis Gonzalez just wants to go to prom with his boyfriend, but when a hit on the head knocks him back to 1985, he meets his parents' closeted classmate.

Squire by Sara Alfageeh & Nadia Shammas: Aiza has always dreamt of becoming a Knight. After she enlists in the competitive Squire program, it’s not how she imagined and she’ll have to soon choose between loyalty to her heart and heritage, or loyalty to the Empire.

Strike the Zither by Joan He: As three warring fractures try to gain control of the kingdom, orphaned Zephyr, a strategist serving Xin Ren, infiltrates an enemy camp where she encounters the enigmatic Crow, an opposing strategist who might just be her match.

The Summer of Bitter and Sweet by Jen Ferguson: Demisexual Metis teen Lou is settling in to spend the summer before college working at her close-knit family's small-town ice cream shack with her best friend, ex-boyfriend, and newly back-in-town crush, when a letter from her white biological father, recently out of prison, threatens to destroy everything she cares about.

The Sunbearer Trials by Aiden Thomas: Transgender demigod Teo is unexpectedly selected for the Sunbearer Trials, a fierce competition among demigod heroes where the winner sacrifices the loser to Sol, their blood fueling the Sun Stones that protect Reino del Sol.

Sunny G’s Series of Rash Decisions by Navdeep Singh Dillon: Sunny G's brother left him one thing when he died: His notebook, which Sunny is determined to fill up with a series of rash decisions. Decision number one was a big one: He stopped wearing his turban, cut off his hair, and shaved his beard. Sunny debuts his new look at prom, which he's stuck going to alone. Enter Mindii Vang, a girl with a penchant for making rash decisions of her own, starting with stealing Sunny's notebook. When Sunny chases after her, prom turns into an all-night adventure—a night full of rash, wonderful, romantic, stupid, life-changing decisions.

Survive the Dome by Kosko Jackson: High school junior Jamal Lawson teams up with hacker Marco during a police brutality protest to shut down a device that creates an impenetrable dome around Baltimore that is keeping the residents in and information from going out.

This is Why They Hate Us by Aaron H. Aceves: 17-year-old Enrique "Quique" Luna decides to get over his crush on Saleem Kanazi before the end of summer by pursuing other romantic prospects, but he ends up discovering heartfelt truths about friendship, family, and himself.

This Place is Still Beautiful by Xixi Tian: A story about first love, complicated family dynamics, and the pernicious legacy of racism, following two estranged teen sisters Annalie and Margaret who have no choice but to reunite in their small Midwestern town when their family becomes the victim of a hate crime.

This Wicked Fate (This Poison Heart #2) by Kalynn Bayron: Briseis races to save her family even as she discovers more about their ties to ancient goddesses and deadly curses.

A Thousand Heartbeats by Kiera Cass: Princess Annika has lived a life of comfort—but no amount of luxuries can change the fact that her life isn’t her own to control. Miles away, small comforts are few and far between for Lennox. For Lennox, the idea of love is merely a distraction—nothing will stand in the way of fighting for his people. But when love, against all odds, finds them both, they are bound by its call. They can’t possibly be together—but the irresistible thrum of a thousand heartbeats won’t let them stay apart.

A Thousand Steps Into Night by Traci Chee: In the realm of Awara, where gods, monsters, and humans exist side by side, ordinary Miuko is cursed and begins to transform into a demon with a deadly touch. Embarking on a quest to turn human again, she must outfox tricksters, escape demon hunters, and negotiate with feral gods if she wants to make it home again.

Three Kisses, One Midnight by Roshani Chokshi & Evelyn Skye & Sandhya Menon: A magical Halloween story pitched as told in the tradition of LET IT SNOW, set in a town reminiscent of Stars Hollow, featuring interconnected stories about three witchy best friends and their romantic quest involving love potions (that may or may not work) and true love's kiss before the clock strikes midnight,

TJ Powar Has Something to Prove by Jasmeen Kaur Deo: A charming rom-com about high school debater TJ Powar who—after becoming the subject of an ugly meme—makes a resolution to stop shaving, plucking, and waxing, and prove that she can be her hairy self and still be beautiful…but soon finds this may be her most difficult debate yet.

Together We Burn by Isabel Ibanez: 18-year-old flamenco dancer Zarela Zalvidar must work with a disgraced dragon hunter to learn the ways of a Dragador and save her ancestral home.

Tokyo Dreaming (Tokyo Ever After #2) by Emiko Jean: Princess Izumi of Japan will do anything to help her parents achieve their happily ever after, but what if playing the perfect princess means sacrificing her own? Will she find a way to forge her own path and follow her heart?

Travelers Along the Way by Aminah Mae Safi: In this reimagination of the legend of Robin Hood, Rahma al-Hud and her older sister Zeena travel to Jerusalem for a final mission, and on their way they assemble a ragtag band of misfits and get swept up Holy Land politics.

The Turning Pointe by Vanessa L. Torres: Following a dancer in 1980s Minnesota as she navigates complex family expectations, a new romance, and her own ambitions to dance for the Purple One himself, Prince.

Turning by Joy L. Smith: Before the "accident" Genie was an aspiring ballerina, now she is a bitter teenager, permanently confined to a wheelchair, but at physical therapy she meets Kyle, a gymnast whose traumatic brain injury has landed him in therapy--and through their growing friendship Genie realizes that she has to confront the things around her: like the booze her mother is hiding, or the fact that maybe her fall was not entirely accidental.

Twice as Perfect by Louisa Onome: 17-year-old Nigerian Canadian Adanna Nkwachi must deal with an estranged older brother, uncertainty about her future, and helping her cousin plan a big Nigerian wedding.

Valiant Ladies by Melissa Grey: In Potosai, a silver mining city in the new Spanish viceroyalty of Peru, proper ladies by day and teen vigilantes by night, Eustaquia “Kiki” de Sonza and Ana Lezama de Urinza set out to expose corruption and deliver justice after Kiki's brother is murdered and the prostitute he loved disappears.

Vinyl Moon by Mahogany L. Browne: Reeling from the scars of a past relationship, Angel finds healing and hope in the words of strong Black writers and the new community she builds in Brooklyn

We Are All We Have by Marina Budhos: After her mom is taken by ICE, 17-year-old Rania's hopes and dreams for the future are immediatly put on hold as she figures out how take care of her younger brother and survive in a country that seems to be closing around them.

We Are the Scribes by Randi Pink: Ruth Fitz, a black teenager surrounded by activism in a family rocked by tragedy, discovers that she has begun to receive parchment letters from Harriet Jacobs, the author of the autobiography and 1861 American classic.

We Deserve Monuments by Jas Hammonds: When 17-year-old Avery moves to rural Georgia to live with her ailing grandmother, she encounters decade-old family secrets and a mystery surrounding the town's racist past.

We Weren’t Looking To Be Found by Stephanie Kuehn: Dani and Camilla find friendship on their path to mental health in a story of acceptance, recovery, and resilience.

The Weight of Blood by Tiffany D. Jackson: When a viral bullying incident reveals outcast Madison Washington’s secret of being biracial, student leaders come up with a plan to change their image: host the school's first integrated prom as a show of unity. The popular white class president convinces her Black superstar quarterback boyfriend to ask Maddy to be his date. But some of her classmates aren't done with her just yet. And what they don't know is that Maddy still has another secret, one that will cost them all their lives.

Well, That Was Unexpected by Jesse Q. Sutanto: After Sharlot Citra is whisked from L.A. to her mother's native Indonesia in order to "get back to her roots," who—through a comedy of errors and overzealous parents—she finds herself fake dating the son of one of the wealthiest families in Indonesia, and is surprised when she actually starts to fall in love with the boy, with the country, and with the big family she never knew before now,

What Souls Are Made Of by Tasha Suri: As the abandoned son of a Lascar—a sailor from India—Heathcliff has spent most of his young life maligned as an "outsider." Now he's been flung into an alien life in the Yorkshire moors. Catherine, the younger child of the estate's owner, a daughter with light skin and brown curls and a mother that nobody talks about, soon finds solace with Heathcliff. But when Catherine's father dies and the household's treatment of Heathcliff only grows more cruel, their relationship becomes strained and threatens to unravel.

What’s Coming to Me by Francesca Padilla: After the ice cream stand where she works is robbed, 17-year-old Minerva Gutiaerrez plans to get revenge on her predatory boss while navigating grief, anger, and dreams of escape from her dead-end hometown.

Whiteout by Dhonielle Clayton & Tiffany D. Jackson & Nic Stone & Angie Thomas & Ashley Woodfolk & Nicola Yoon: Atlanta is blanketed with snow just before Christmas, but the warmth of young love just might melt the ice in this novel of interwoven narratives, Black joy, and cozy, sparkling romance.

The Wicked Remain (Grimrose Girls #2) by Laura Pohl: At Grimrose Académie, Nani, Yuki, Ella, and Rory have discovered the truth about the curse that's left a trail of dead bodies at Grimrose. But the four still know nothing of its origins, or how to stop the cycle of doomed fates. Can the girls change their own stories and break the curse?

This Woven Kingdom by Tahereh Mafi: To all the world, Alizeh is a disposable servant, not the long-lost heir to an ancient Jinn kingdom forced to hide in plain sight.The crown prince, Kamran, has heard the prophecies foretelling the death of his king. But he could never have imagined that the servant girl with the strange eyes, the girl he can’t put out of his mind, would one day soon uproot his kingdom—and the world.

Wrong Side of Court by H.N. Khan: 15-year-old Fawad Chaudhry has big dreams about being the world's first Pakistani to be drafted into the NBA.

The Witchery by S. Isabelle: Logan came to Mesmortes Coven Academy in Haelsford, Florida, to learn to control her powers, but she soon learns she has a role to play in the ancient curse of the hellmouth--whatever the cost to herself and her new friends.

You Truly Assumed by Laila Sabreen: Three Black Muslim teens, Sabriya, Zakat, and Farah, living different parts of the country start a blog to fight Islamophobia and find friendship and hope as they let their voices be heard.

Zyla & Kai by Kristina Forest: The story of how cynic Zyla Matthews and hopeless romantic Kai Johnson become friends, fall in love, and break up unfolds from their different perspectives.

#authors of color #booklr #book recs #book recommendations #yalit #IT'S MY FAVORITE TIME OF YEAR BABEYYY!!!#the list isn't totally done!!!#i still have to finish putting up the rest of the hyperlinks and descriptions #but wanted to get this up and posted before the year was actually over LOLOL #still going strong with the illustrated book covers trend!!!#which i personally dig tbh

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

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Thursday! I'm the anon who sent the kid Malec prompt and I'm totally taking you up on that offer to send another one

I was waiting for next Wednesday to send this but no time like the present.

Magnus finds out alec can walk and fight in high heels cause he taught himself to help Izzy and he goes wild

of course anon! I'm glad you did and i was super happy to be able to fill this! I hope you enjoy it. it is a part of an ongoing verse which is mob!wife alec which I hope you don't mind

<3 lumine

“Oh, well isn’t this a lovely surprise.” Magnus can’t help but pause as he watches Alexander from where he has one leg hanging off the bed and the other curled over his knee as he secures his shoes.

His very tall, very delightful knee-high boots with at least four inches of heels.

Alexander smiles at him, eyes softening as he puts his foot down.

“I thought if I tried your six-inch heels, I might be a little too tall.” And Alexander frowns, “I don’t enjoy ducking every time I go through a door and mundane establishments are always so small.

“Darling—” Magnus asks, breathless with delight. “Are you going to wear those for me, tonight?” There is another business meeting tonight, on the mundane side of things and Alexander has been a delightful distraction each time.

“I have to look the part.” Alexander tells him wryly, as if his boy doesn’t delight in teasing Magnus with his insistence of dressing up to mob wife perfection each time.

“Oh Alexander, I’m hardly complaining.” Magnus steps closer and kneels, smirking up at Alexander as he pulls a boot to his knee. “Let me tighten them for you, lovely.”

Alexander swallows, staring down at him in awed surprise.

It’s always so sweet, when Magnus’ boy does something as delightful as this and then doesn’t expect or anticipate Magnus’ reaction.

As if they’re going to be anything but late, now that Magnus has seen the glory of Alexander in heels.

The black leather caresses the curve of his calves and the gold buckles glint, as if threatening to pop off. Magnus tightens each strap and feels Alexander’s muscles tense under his touch.

Alexander may not have started this intentionally, but Magnus is hardly going to let such an opportunity pass him by.

“Perhaps we should skip tonight.” Magnus muses and his fingers massage through the leather as he leans forward so that his mouth is practically kissing the zipper of Alexander’s pants. “

“Isn’t tonight when someone important and new is coming to town?” Alexander manages to ask, voice hoarse as he tries to be a vestige of common sense and responsibility.

Magnus rolls his eyes, getting to his feet and using Alexander’s thighs to grip as he pushes himself up. Alexander groans under him, as if the touch is hurting him but Magnus knows it’s the fact that he’s resisting that hurts his boy so much.

“Well, if you insist.” Magnus sniffs, absolutely prepared to sulk until Alexander is more than prepared to make it up to him. “Honestly, hiding the fact that you can wear heels from me.” Because Alexander is graceful as he stands and while he’s even taller now, a denizen of danger in the shadows, he adjusts easily to the height and his balance is impeccable.

“Someone had to figure out how to teach Izzy to fight in heels.” Alexander murmurs and then he frowns, “your lips are further away now.”

“Oh, I can fix that.” Magnus promises with a purr, and he changes his own shoes to something sober and tall, a heeled boot with knives in the toes. After all, he might need to kick a few mundanes away from his boy and it never hurts to be prepared.

“Better.” Alexander agrees, leaning down to kiss him without a single wobble and then his boy is gliding over to Magnus’ vanity and looking over the jewelry there. “What do you think?” He asks as he holds up a black leather necklace.

It’s very close to a collar, in fact it is one and Magnus swallows, his heart suddenly pounding louder than he can hear over.

“Sweetheart, you are making this very hard for me.” He chides, coming up to Alexander and running a hand up his neck, palming the rune he adores there. “Are you trying to make sure you don’t leave our bed for the rest of the weekend?”

Alexander simple smirks at him and hands the collar over, a dark glint to his eyes as he pretends he isn’t watching Magnus in the mirror.

“It’s a little bland,” he taps the middle of the collar where various pendants normally go. “I think your initials would fit, don’t you?”

Magnus has the leather around his neck, sealed with a gold MB that matches the buckles of Alexander’s boots and Magnus’ own.

“I am going to burn the entirety of the mundane criminal world if tonight is anything other than extremely important.” Magnus promises him, pulling Alexander into a kiss as he claims him with a promise of what is to come.

#writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #malec #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #lumine writes #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets

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battleangel · 5 months

Text

4 Minutes Is An Eternity

I am 42 years old.

I was in college 20 years ago in 2003.

In just 20 years, I have noticed a profound shift in society.

I was born in October 1981 so I am considered an older Millennial.

I have noticed a signficant macro difference between Gen X & older Millennials vs younger Gen Z and Generation Alpha (the generation after Gen Z).

What is the one change across society in the past two decades that could account for this change?

The total ubiquitousness of social media.

Whats the change?

The shortening of attention spans and the shortening of the mind.

Songs used to be, on average, approximately four minutes long.

Go back and look at the Billboard 100 in 2003 and look at it today.

Something should immediately jump out at you.

Songs today are much shorter than 20 years ago.

Songs today are typically just under 3 minutes long.

How did we lose a full minute in only 20 years?

Billboard also recently announced they established a TikTok chart to track the success of songs on TikTok, which is the new radio.

You may not know who Flyana Boss is but if I say, "Hello Christ?" if you were on social media at all the past few months, your mind probably automatically filled in the next bar, "I'm bout to sin again".

"You Wish" by Flyana Boss was literally all over TikToks for you page and later Instagram Reels to the tune of over a billion combined views.

They cleverly had their director film them while they ran towards him in public places as the director ran backwards in front of them with a camera on top of his head.

It is an arresting visual and the views racked up as Flyana Boss started to get requests from local businesses in LA begging them to run through their restaurants and stores for the publicity on TikTok.

Flyana Boss are Black female rappers, eclectic and a total callback to 90s rappers like Missy Elliot.

The kawaii aesthetic, elf ears and relatable clever lyrics about life and sex resonated with people.

They provide an alternative to the Ice Spices shaking their ass in a deli.

They also represent the Sexyy Red "Skee Yee" phenomenon.

Sexyy Red was the first artist to top the newly established TikTok Billboard 100 chart (she debuted at number 1).

Whats the Skee Yee phenomenon?

Its never about the actual song anymore.

You've probably heard "Skee Yee" by now.

Or maybe you saw Sexyy Red in the MetLife VIP area meeting the Jets owner with a stack of 100s held up to her ear.

The truth is, despite literally billions of views on TikTok and Instagram, almost noone has heard the full songs for "You Wish" by Flyana Boss and "Skee Yee" by Sexyy Red.

Because of TikTok, all you need today as a music artist is a catchy 5 to 7 second jingle, verse, hook, chorus or bar and if you can film viral content to it that people either imitate or watch, you can launch yourself into music superstardom.

Flyana Boss has already toured with Janelle Monae.

They were virtual unknowns prior to Summer 2023 with a few hundred views on their respective Soundcloud profiles.

Sexyy Red released her first mixtape, "Ah Thousand Jugs", in 2018.

The Hood Hottest Princess had been grinding away for the past five years on mixtape releases and trying to go viral on Triller.

"Dogg Pound Town" blew Sexyy Red up earlier this year.

Its the song about her toes and ass being ate while she eats Popeye chicken.

She has fire engine red hair and facial tattoos.

If you have a TikTok or Instagram, there is literally no way you havent scrolled past Sexyy Red at this point.

This is the new way to make it in the music industry.

We see Lay Banks, a 19 year old female rapper, utilize this formula to great success with "Ick".

Lay hired the same director that Flyana Boss used for "You Wish".

Instead of running in public places, Lay was filmed rapping "Ick" at a gas station.

"Ick" is about a guy with a foot fetish and bad credit who kills Lay's lady boner and gives her the "Ick".

The hook at the beginning of the viral clip is "Lady boner gone".

Lay is an extremely high energy rapper with hard hitting beats, a sick flow and clever and humorous lyrics complaining about men being in their soft girl era with their credit cards declining.

Its the updated 2023 Missy Elliot "I dont want no one minute man".

Lay is also strikingly beautiful, young and knew that "lady boner gone" waa a viral TikTok catchphrase that would catch on and go viral.

She also cleverly asked female viewers to film themselves rapping the lyrics to "Ick" if any guys had ever given them the "Ick" and then she reshared hundreds of these Youtube Shorts, TikToks and Reels to her personal social media profiles.

Lay has already charted on the TikTok Billboard 100 chart and she has millions of combined views.

This is clearly the new path to musical success as Billboard has recognized by establishing the TikTok Billboard 100 chart.

What have we lost in the process?

To be very clear, I love all three songs and all four rappers (Flyana Boss is a rap duo), especially Lay Banks "Ick".

That doesnt mean that this is a good change for society as a whole.

We, to speak on a macro universal level, dont listen to full songs anymore.

Everything became a sound bite, a viral clip on the for you page before you scroll on to the next video.

TikTok replaced radio.

New music is now discovered on TikTok.

But only in 5 to 7 second snippets curated to blow up on the for you page.

What happens to the Radioheads, Slipknots and Deftones in this brave new world?

What happens to us on a macro level when our attention spans have been so shortened by social media we cant even be assed to sit through a four minute song?

Social media, including messaging apps, is constant and ubiquitous.

It is a pervasive and constant distractiveness and mindlessness.

Its constant scrolling, constant notifications for discord servers & Whatsapp group chats, likes on Instagram & TikTok, trending hashtags on Twitter, new uploads on Youtube.

Constant validation, constant distraction.

Doom scrolling, scrolling for likes, scrolling for vanity, scrolling for boredom, scrolling for depression, scrolling for jealousy and envy, scrolling to endlessly compare.

When TikTok surpassed Google as the number 1 website in the world last year per number of visits, Google removed the pages in their results and made their results pages endless just like TikTok's for you page.

Googles results page was the new limitless rabbit hole of Youtube Suggested Videos -- it never ends.

No more iconic "Gooooooogle" at the bottom of the search results with a different colored "o" above each individual page number.

Nothing ever ends anymore.

Coupled with nearly limitless options to binge watch on streaming services where all episodes are released instantaneously and noone ever has to wait for anything, there are no weekly episodes anymore, no mid-season hiatuses, there are no repeats, season finales that are breathlessly anticipated...

Everything is immediately and constantly at your fingertips.

Its a total closing and shortening of the mind.

It is the evisceration of our collective attention spans.

Multiple screens at all times -- flat screen TV, smartphone, tablet, laptop, Nintendo Switch, Xbox Live, Playstation Network.

Multiple inputs -- music on Spotify, podcasts on Youtube, streams on Twitch, sports games, competition shows and reality TV on regular cable, streaming shows on Netflix/Disney+/Hulu, multiplayer online games on Xbox, Playstation & Nintendo, group messaging chats on discord, Whatsapp, iPhone, Facebook Messenger & Instagram.

Everything is always on, especially you.

Theres always a buzz, theres always a noti, theres always an active discord server, theres always something to check, theres always something happening, theres always something to distract your mind.

Do not disturb is only for when you're asleep.

We were not designed for these constant notifications and interruptions.

They are short circuiting us as a species by design.

Everything became bingeable, nothing ever has to be waited for.

Once the show is released to Disney+ & Netflix, I can binge to my hearts content.

It is a relic of the old days to have to wait a week for new episodes of a favorite show and to have to wait months for a highly anticipated season finale.

Everything is bingeable, including you.

Everything is easily consumed and passed through like the ephemera it is, including you.

There is no permanence, there is no gravitas.

Everything is trending, everything is the now.

Everything is forgotten in 24 hours.

What genocide in Palestine?

There are people trapped on the Gaza Strip?

Emergency medical supplies, food, fuel , water and electricity are being cut off to the Gaza Strip?

Did Travis and Taylor already break up?

Its the shortening of collective memory, the evisceration of our attention spans and the shortening of the mind.

Everyone has already forgotten that Sexyy Red supported Trump on a podcast and posted a sex video of herself on her Instagram stories (right after the Trump story broke so no I dont believe Sexyy was hacked) -- both of these things happened last month.

Does anyone remember Biden brazenly, unapologetically and inhumanely telling reporters on video, Aviators firmly in place, that he guarantees "there will be no ceasefire" between Israel & Palestine despite 13k+ Palestinian civilians being murdered by the Israeli Defense Force over the past two months in one of the worst instances of ethnic cleansing this century?

That literally happened this month and its already been collectively forgotten.

Theres always a new Skims ad for undergarments that give you the perfect nipples.

Taylor Swift was being discussed on NFL broadcasts more than Patrick Mahomes while dating Travis Kelce -- now she has been disappeared from all NFL broadcasts as if she had never been endlessly discussed to begin with.

We are no longer being shown Taylor sitting by Kelces mom and Mahomes' wife and daughter.

But there has been no corresponding commentary at least making a joke about a breakup and a possible Taylor Swift song about same.

The NFL literally had Taylor Swift as their header on Twitter and now she is gone and they are acting like the above never happened.

I get it, the NFL wants female Gen Z to tune into their games but they literally had a slow mo of Taylor walking into Arrowhead Stadium.

Thats not drumming up female viewership, that is patently insane.

They were slow mo'ing Taylor high fiveing Kelces mom when Kelce scored a touchdown.

That is just downright bizarre and is not about increasing the young female demographic that watches NFL games.

It was creepy in how over the top it was.

Taylor was now the big topic of discussion during pre-game analysis of the Chiefs instead of Mahomes, Kelce, MVS, Pacheco, Chris Jones, Andy Reid.

It was an all out blitz for a month that went so far as Kelce being described as "Taylors boyfriend" instead of as a 3-time Super Bowl champion and star tight end of the Kansas City Chiefs.

Kelce was always the new Gronk, the current poster child party boy of the NFL.

But the slew of commercials, brand sponsorships and SNL hosting gig didnt come until Taylor.

Predictably, young female NFL viewership went up over 300%, Kelce gained hundreds of thousands of Swiftie social media followers then Kelce stopped attending Eras tour shows, Taylor stopped attending NFL games, the NFL dropped it like it never happened and switched their header to Vikings QB Dobbs.

Back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Movies are going to head in the same direction.

2 hours will no longer be the default film duration.

These conversations are already happening within the film industry as studios are pushing a "crowdsourced film by committee", a Choose Your Own Adventure clusterfuck where multiple endings are filmed for each movie and each individual movie theater audience decides the ending in real time as they watch.

Everything is instantaneous, everything capricious, everything fickle, any demand can be met.

What happens to a directors vision if the audience can just decide everything?

And bet that studio analysts and executives will be closely monitoring what audiences vote for and will change future films to align with those votes.

What happens to A Clockwork Orange?

What happens to the Stanley Kubricks, George Romeros & Quentin Tarantinos?

What happens to taking risks?

Will there never be another cult classic?

Will there never be another Rocky Horror Picture Show?

Would these future audiences have changed the iconic twists in classics like Empire Strikes Back and Sixth Sense?

Will all the sharp edges go away and will we be left with a frictionless existence?

Wheres the space for a nearly six minute operatic genre defying theatrical dramatic essence of drag singular revelation like Bohemian Rhapsody?

Will everything be safe, sanitized and sterilized?

What happens to horror movies that take risks and confront their audiences and skillfully mix gore, humor, satire, societal critique, snark, comedy, slapstick, survivalism, political commentary, dystopia, sci-fi and parody?

Will every rough edge be sanded away?

Do we want an existence like that where our art mediums no longer challenge, repel, confront, repulse, enlighten, elucidate and force us to take a look at ourselves?

Do we no longer want art that takes the piss out of us as an audience?

Do we just want all of the art and media that we consume to be like the Netflix algorithm, endlessly adjusting to our every whim and preference, tirelessly trying to please us in every way, never offending?

Do we never want to be shocked or angered by our art again?

Isnt that what art was supposed to be?

Do we always want to be perfectly happy and satisfied with everything we see?

What will happen to movies that are so bad they're good?

What will happen to guilty pleasures?

Will everything be bland and vanilla, too dull to offend or tittilate, instantly consumed and forgotten with all of the other endless media we are constantly bingeing?

Our existences have been Doordash'd & InstaCart'd.

Everything can be done for us, delivered to us, driven to us, picked up by us, ordered for us, shopped for us, cooked for us, prepared for us, written for us, applied to for us.

Theres an app for almost everything.

The age of inconvenience and frustration is over.

Everything is frictionless -- even our art and entertainment.

What happens to quirky oddities?

Random ideas and concepts?

Harebrained notions and acid dreams?

Paranoid androids and visions?

Night terrors and daydreams?

All of the above have led to crazy innovative mindfucky scripts, films, songs, album concepts, music videos and movie shorts.

Where is the space for body horror films and Takashi Miike?

When do songs become 2 minutes vs the current 3 minute average?

When do songs become 1 minute?

When do songs cease to exist and people just start to record the chorus or the catchy part for TikTok virality since thats all anyones listening to anymore anyway?

When do 2 hour movies become 1 hour?

When do 1 hour movies become 30 minute shorts?

When do movies in general just become instantaneously streamable shorts that are a few minutes long available simultaneously on every platform?

When will the concept of a full length movie that anyone would have the actual patience and attention span to sit through become anachronistic?

When do single player video games go away because noone has the patience to sit through a solo adventure and play through the game for the plot, storyline, twists and turns and all anyone wants to do is get online and just play against each other?

When do we lose our humanity?

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