#Mr Velcro Fastener

[phinnweb]

[Extended version of this text.]

There’s Bonus Beats, a new compilation from Cold Blow Records that brings up quite an onslaught of memories for me.

Namely, of those times when we had our own Club Telex at Tampere’s Yo-Talo (Student Union House), and also hanging out at the electro parties in Helsinki (remember Helsinki Turbo?) and Turku, with those lovely freaks of Rikos Records (the defunct cult label from Jyväskylä, also represented on Bonus Beats), Op:l Bastards, Imatran Voima (with the late lamented Perttu Häkkinen), Mr Velcro Fastener (who specifically informed me that “Mr” in their name is spelled without the full stop), Nu Science (the unofficial “house band” of Club Telex -- now there’s one act who would deserve their own retrospective compilation), Mono Junk, Jori Hulkkonen too, the ever-present Erkko (who curated this compilation), and so on.

The first Club Telex, with Nu Science and Op:l Bastards performing, took place on the 27th of March, 1999, at Yo-Talo, Tampere’s traditional Student Union House. I remember our concept of having electronic live acts was somehow inspired by a club named Osasto in Helsinki. What we added there was that we also showed short films early in the evening, making it a sort of – for a lack of better expression – multimedia event.

“Electronic Avantgarde Excursions” was the tagline of Club Telex, even though in the end there was less experimental music as the average member of local audience – usually consisting of students, indie hipsters and perhaps an odd raver -- was craving for something to dance to rather than to listen some weirdness while scratching one's chin and nodding one's head knowingly.

"Perkeleenmoinen groove" (loosely translates as "hell of a groove") was another expression that was favoured in our plugs to specifically promote the event. 

There was also DJ music, usually by the resident disc jockeys Mikko “mini” Niemelä and yours truly but sometimes also guest DJs spinning records. Alongside mini and me, organising the club were Antti Vuorio (R.I.P.) and Olli Sotamaa, both familiar from the academic circles in Tampere, Vuorio also representing the Monroe film club where he then worked as a president. Monroe was an important collaborator for Club Telex, specifically providing us with the short films. As was also the Student Union of Tampere University, who would assist us in booking the nights at Yo-Talo.

The name “Telex” was inspired by the Belgian synthpop act of the same name, having also a nice retrofuturistic ring to it in an era when e-mails and the Internet were already replacing the old telex and telefax machines as a primary means of rapid global communication.

Some Finnish artists who performed at Club Telex:

Acidroot Soundsystem, Ektroverde, Ever Had, Helsinki Bass Machine, Imatran Voima, Jimi Tenor, Kemialliset Ystävät, Kukka, Anton Nikkilä, M.A. Numminen, Mono Junk, Mr Velcro Fastener, Nemesis, Nu Science, Op:l Bastards, O Samuli A, Ovuca, Pan sonic, Pink Twins, Planet Lander, Spektor vs. Nukleon, Tero, Unidentified Sound Objects, Ural 13 Diktators, Virtalähde, and Ylikulju.

And the international artists who performed at Club Telex:

Alexei Borisov (RU), Chicks on Speed (AU/DE/US), Fennesz (AT) (who played as a duo with the late Mika Vainio), Hecker (AT), I-f (DJ set/NL), Jeans Team (DE), Peaches (US), Nicole Willis (US), Pluxus (SE), and Skot (AT).

Some of these artists we had in collaboration with Avanto Festival and Helsinki Turbo, who arranged for them a gig also in Helsinki (for some of these people, there might have been some live action in Turku, too). There were also some events in collaboration with Kaukana Väijyy Ystäviä and Mindtrek festivals. Fennesz, Hecker and Skot were courtesy of Austria's Mego label.

As guest DJs for Club Telex nights we had, among all, such people as DCom, 6M4 (a.k.a. Gamma), Indigo, Kauko Lampi, Kuuro Kädetön Paisti, Marko Laine, Mike Not, Randy B., and Stimulus Progression.

As for the films shown during our nights, we had at least Futuro and Thank You for the Music by Mika Taanila, then the world premiere of Routemaster by Ilppo Pohjola. The director himself would have liked to show it with a 35 mm film projector, but dragging such heavy and expensive equipment to the club premises of Yo-Talo, which originally served as a bank in the early 20th century, would have been sheer impossibility, so we had to compromise, and another video projection it was to be. Also the legendary Eino Ruutsalo’s experimental 1960s shorts and episodes of such classic Finnish children’s animation series, from the 1960s and 70s, as Kössi Kenguru and Käytöskukka were often seen.

Jyrki, at that time perhaps the most watched pop music TV show in Finland, visited the Commodore 64 theme night of Club Telex in January 2001. Interviewed here are Mikko "mini" Niemelä (known for Polytron, later also as the promoter for Ruisrock festival), Tero (Mäyränen, who released 8-bit type of electro for Rikos Records) and Nu Science, with Mikko Ojanen (who later wrote his doctorate thesis on Erkki Kurenniemi) and Henri Tani talking at Yo-Talo's legendary backroom while the third member, Aku Raski (later known for Huoratron), smiles contentedly.

From 1997, when I witnessed I-f’s (playing as Ferenc) set at Jyväskylä’s festival and instantly became converted, to perhaps 2005-06 when I quit DJing, it was electro (or to be more precise, its second or third wave, if we take into account its Stateside originators in the 80s) that ruled supreme, with some other related genres also squirming into our sets, such as IDM, EBM, synthpop/futu, Italodisco, Hi-NRG, even a bit of dub & hip hop, and yeah, some good old 4/4 techno, with also some occasional, erm, electroclash (once a hip genre cursed among all "real" electro fans) – yes, it can be confessed now since there isn't any personal “street cred” to hold on to anymore (if there ever was).

Alongside Club Telex, there were also some events dedicated purely to electro. In February 2001 we had as electronic live acts from Holland, representing the legendary Bunker Records, both Legowelt and Orgue Electronique.

Was the electro journey worth taking? Sure, there were a lot of things that, in retrospect, should have been left undone, should have been left unsaid. Maybe there’s still someone out there who harbours resentment. Apologies accepted or not, call it a learning process. But despite any personal blunders there might have been, the music was good, and that’s the only real thing worth remembering.

Musical fashions change rapidly. For a couple of years in the late 1990s and the first years of the Noughties, electro was "hip", then something else came along. Since the millennium we've had EDM, trap, vaporwave, synthwave, and loads of other new genres born almost every year that it's totally impossible to keep up with them anymore. Also techno has been revived for the Berghain generation. Classic Italodisco of the 1980s seems to hold its cultish popularity among the club hipsters, year after year. As for electro, probably there will be another full-fledged revival one day, as it seems any type of electronic music will eventually create its own "trad" following, in the way of "classic rock", as can also be witnessed from the ever-rising popularity of analogue instruments.

But enough with the ranting, get this compilation if you want to get a little taste of what it was all about. It's full of lost gems, such as Imatran Voima's 'It's Time to Testify' from their first EP (Kostamus Records, 2000).

[Extended version of this text.]

[astyrial]

saved by the scream tasm!peter parker x gn!reader (fluff) synopsis: you give spidey an ultimatum word count: 836 warnings: none masterlist | requests are open

    maybe queens isn't described as the windy city. but as you sit on your apartment's balcony, you can feel the intense winds of a storm brewing. it brings a warm feeling to your cheeks, a light windburn occurring. you stare out into the fall air and not too far away you can see someone swinging through the air.

  the only person who comes to mind is spiderman, the city's unofficial hero. even if the jonah jameson and police chief want queens to believe he's a 'menace', you still believe that he's a hero. and maybe you're a little biased...

  "it's freezing out here, what are you doing?" someone questions from above you, his voice music to your ears. 

  you look up as spiderman lowers down, a costume over his normal spandex suit. it resembles that of einstein. even a grey wig is fastened to the top of his suit, a string tied under his chin to hold it there. as he gets closer you notice grey eyebrows and a mustache seemingly velcroed to his mask. 

  spiderman even has a lab coat on that is cascading past his head and hitting your balcony. "i could ask you the same question mr. albert einstein," you rest your hands on your hips, a smile gracing your face. 

  "ahhh so you like it? because i worked really hard to impress that smart mind you have."

  "impress me? well all you have to do to impress me is tell me your identity. i will start guessing and then it's all over for you. because i know you go to my school and that we have a class together," you cross your arms in front of your chest, shaking your head a little.

  spiderman flips over, his feet landing on the railing of your balcony. he shakes his head, rolling his hands as if he's about to explain some reason as to why you can't know his identity, "it would be unsafe for you to know any of that. i love our little chats but it's not safe."

  you raise an eyebrow, an unimpressed look cascading over your face. "not safe? how many times have i helped you stop a villain by just being me with my knowledge? you think i can't handle it?" a scoff quickly follows, you rolling your eyes.

  "not that you can't handle it, but if something does happen, it's my fault. i wouldn't be able to handle it if something happened and your parents-"

  "so you've met my parents before?" 

  "y/n-" spiderman begins once more, trying to convince you of something that you're already set on someday knowing. 

  you shake your head, "no, you can't call me 'y/n' when i can only call you spiderboy. we've been through a lot, you know that. so don't keep coming around and playing with my feelings if i never get to know the real you! either tell me your identity or stop coming here..."

  spiderman's eyes widen, surprised that you had such a reaction to not knowing his identity. he always kept it hidden from the people he loved the most. and now the person he has fallen for is standing there telling him to ship out or tell the truth. 

  "you're right.. i shouldn't be doing this to you. if i tell you my identity, you have to keep it to yourself. you can't tell anyone because it could put any of you in danger. along with my family. y/n, i don't want to lose you, and if that means telling you to keep you in my life, so be it," spiderman jumps down onto your balcony, his hand reaching for yours. 

  you reach your hand out to grab his, your mouth agape in surprise. you'd finally know who's been hiding behind that mask for the past few months. he grabs the bottom of his mask and starts pulling it up. his chin has slight stubble on it and his face is a lighter complexion. 

  however, before he can finish pulling it off, someone shouts for help. it's loud, bloodcurdling, and echoes off of the surrounding buildings. spiderman immediately pulls the mask back down before twisting his head in the direction of the scream. he turns back to you, pulling the eyebrows and lab coat off of his suit.

  "next time i see you, i'll tell you y/n," he squeezes your hand, a grip that proves just how much he cares about you. 

  you sigh looking out at the city and then back at him, nodding. "i get it, go save a life spidey. make sure you get back here soon because you can't leave a person hanging like that," the wind rushes past you as he hops onto the balcony's railing. 

  he turns around once more, nodding towards you. and just like that he's off into the night once more. his suit concealing his identity to everyone including you. honestly, though, you could wait another night if that meant he was saving a life.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera Ch 3 - Shoes

In which Scott deals with some Situations. All of which can be considered “light duties”. Honest…

(Prologue, Chapter 1 & Chapter 2)

(Given this is basically a fanfic of it, you should definitely read Recrudesence by @sofasurf first because it’s AWESOME)

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The little life signs, initially green and wriggly had grown still and shifted to amber. He knew what that meant and there was no way he was wasting a second in getting the oxygen through to them. It was the right thing to do. And he *was* still the Commander, even if his presence on rescues was still probationary according to IR’s Medic and Chief Fusspot, Virgil. 

Ok, sure, his stamina wasn’t yet back to what it was and, yes, his muscle tone required some work. He subtly stretched out a slightly twingey trapezius. Ok… quite a bit of work. But he could climb through a hole and assess the situation perfectly well, thank you. More’s the point, he could do so much quicker than his broader-shouldered brother could have. 

So, he did. It was the right thing. 

And also, Commander.

It really wasn’t fair that Virgil had to be proven right *quite* so quickly about the structural integrity of their hastily-dug tunnel.

As in, literally the-moment-after-he’d-slithered-his-way-out-of-it quickly. Slightly embarrassing, but he’d styled it out and the kids were definitely pleased he was there. As was the teacher who had obviously been having a nightmare of a few hours and probably needed some adult back-up. 

And they could all breathe now which was the important thing.

His tapped his comm unit and sent a concerned-brotherly enquiry as to Virgil’s health.

“I told you that would happen you absolute…”

He coughed loudly and started talking over his brother “We’re all ok in here, Virgil, including all of the many children that are here… listening and uh, being impressionable.”

The line went quiet. Possibly mutinously quiet.

“Get a stable exit route in place. I’ll close comms for now. Ping me if you have any updates.”

He didn’t need to see his brother’s face to know the eyebrows were likely to be in full apocalyptic mode. He considered contacting John to warn him to watch out for gravitational anomalies in the area.

Who was he kidding, John was probably Concerned already what with Oh-So-Fragile-big-brother-who-must-be-watched-at-all-times now being stuck the wrong side of a cave in. He’d be leaping into the elevator any minute…

Ahh, he was being unfair - both of them had been an incredible support the last couple of months and he was more grateful than he could express. But he was also so… SO tired of feeling caged by their caution, of his wings being clipped. Light duties, indeed. Well his heart felt lighter now, and he was more than ready to move on from being an invalid and be Scott again.

If he was honest, the next however-long of being in the company of people who solely viewed him as protector rather than protectee was going to be a blessed relief. Speaking of which, less thinking more rescuing, Tracy!

“Is anyone hurt?”

There was a chorus of “Noooooo” and then:

“Alex’s leg is stuck, Mr Scott!” a small red-headed child grabbed him by the arm and pulled “It’s not hurty but you hafta rescue him because the floor is hard and he’s annoyed and he really really really needs a wee”.

“Reuben, Alex might not want you to give ALL those details you know” the teacher chided in a slightly embarrassed tone.

“It’s true though Miss!” groaned the small child lying on his face in the corner, presumably stuck-Alex.

“And that’s a very serious matter” Scott knelt down next to the lad and patted his shoulder “We’ll sort that out in a minute but first I’m going to have a look at what’s pinning you, is it ok if I touch your leg?” Having received a vigorous nod of consent, he prodded cautiously at the debris around the trapped foot and then worked his fingertips in between the fallen slab and Alex’s ankle and smiled to himself. An easy fix for once! Having worked the Velcro fastenings of the shoe loose he sat back on his haunches.

“Alex, I think you can finish this rescue off all by yourself.”

There were literal gasps from a rapt audience and he grinned. Little kids were easily impressed and, to be frank, that was exactly what he needed right now. And if he was hamming it up just a little… well, none of his brothers were here to see…

He leant down and whispered an instruction and watched the kid’s eyes widen as he pointed his toes and slipped his foot out of his shoe and through the gap in the rubble.

Scott helped him to stand, whereupon he threw his hands in the air and did an exuberant victory dance. 

Then looked down at his feet and burst into tears.

Okay, did not expect that one.

The teacher who had materialised, ninja-like, at the child’s side patted Alex’s shoulder and looked up at Scott apologetically whispering “Brand new shoes, quite a big deal at their age, don’t worry he’ll be ok”. She turned back and made an array of comforting noises as the little boy cradled his remaining red rocket patterned trainer and sobbed his heart out.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

He nudged his comm and quietly requested an update.

“…Yes I’m Fine, John.” 

It turned out Virgil had gone back to Two to configure a pod, the rock being too unstable to make a safe passage through from the service tunnel they’d started out in.

“Just as well I got in with the O2 while I could then huh, John? Who knew? Oh… hi, Virgil. Yes, yes you knew. I’m fine. Yes, actually fine.”

They had to come in at a different angle. How long? Maybe half an hour? He squinted at the display on the oxygen tank, trying not to draw attention to it. Should be ok.

“F.A.B. See you when you get here.”

Back to the more immediate problem. He took out a small pocket knife and an unused grapple pack and started chiselling away at the fallen slab. Fortunately it was some kind of cement composite rather than natural stone so it crumbled away fairly easily. Another stroke of luck! Looked like today was his day. As he worked he found his mind drifting back to how excited Alan had been the first time he’d got light up shoes. Come to think of it those had probably had rockets on them too. A sudden sense of loss sidled by and nudged him. Time was beginning to race by. He tapped the knife slightly harder than he intended and a larger chunk came away. Bingo.

He approached a sniffly Alex and his teacher with his latest rescuee hidden behind his back. Squatting to approximately 7 year old height and resolutely ignoring the creaks in his knee and ankle joints, he slapped the bottom of the shoe to activate the flashy lights and presented it with a flourish. And a “TaDah!”

And maybe a touch of jazz hands. Because today felt like a jazz hands day.

The resulting hug nearly knocked him over.

A muffled voice emerged from his armpit 

“Where’s the toilet?”

Oh yeah, That Situation.

Fortunately this was not his first school-kids-in-a-cave/mine/collapsed-building rodeo. The small cubes of highly absorbent powder designed to neutralise small chemical spills had an unintentional but actually way more frequently employed secondary use. A couple of those crumbled in a corner and a swiftly organised human privacy wall later, Alex and several of his classmates were looking a lot more comfortable.

As he stood in the one spot tall enough for him to straighten out his back and tried to explain hygroscopy to a couple of rapt Science Fans who introduced themselves as Xanthe and Rozi, Scott noticed Reuben and Alex walking around him, carefully appraising his suit. The pair huddled in the corner for an intense discussion followed by rock paper scissors which Reuben apparently lost because he shuffled over and looked up at him, wringing his hands while clearly pregnant with a question of great importance.

Scott crouched down to his eye level and waited. The little boy blushed and looked at the ground and mumbled “Me and Alex were wondering how… how you and the other International Rescuers um… how you…” he trailed off and gestured vaguely at Scott and then the corner and back at Scott again. OH. Scott’s eyes widened and he let out a short burst of laughter.

“Sorry, that’s top secret information. If I tell you, they’ll fire me.”

Nodding seriously, Reuben returned to his conspirator and the speculation clearly continued in hushed tones.

His knees began to object vigorously to the prolonged crouch, so Scott sat himself down and stretched out his legs, focussing on not letting out the kind of old man groan Gordon would mock him relentlessly for. The teacher, cross-legged beside him, tilted her head and raised a skeptical eyebrow he found himself unable to resist and so he leaned over and whispered conspiratorially:

“Borderline pathological level of bladder control” and gave her a mock salute.

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Estera snorted in a most unladylike fashion and covered her face with her hands in an attempt to stifle the giggles, her shoulders shaking as some of the tension of the last few hours escaped. 

He chuckled, clearly pleased to have amused her. He stretched and sagged against the side of the cave in a way that hinted at more fatigue than his demeanour would suggest.

“Long day?”

“Something like that.”

She leant back against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest. Was that more vibration she could feel through her shoulders? Hopefully just the rescuers doing their thing. Trying to shut out the sensation that the walls were getting closer she relaxed her shoulders and took a deep breath. It was shakier than she’d intended and she found herself irritated by the fact that she could tell the man sat next to her had picked up on that.

They sat and watched the kids argue passionately on either side of a welly boots vs trainers debate. It didn’t look like she’d need to intervene yet, thankfully. She did a quick tally of the ratio of wellies to trainers in the room and tapped the result as a rhythm on her knees. A slight tilt of his head revealed he’d noticed that too.

Not taking his eyes off the impending civil war he murmured:

“You doing ok?”

“Yeah. I’ll admit it’s been a bit of a trying day and I’m… not great with confined spaces at the best of times.”

The confession tumbled out of her mouth before she was consciously aware she’d even thought it. Appalled, she tried to claw the words back again - you don’t just admit things like that to complete strangers!

“I mean, not that it’s very confined down here, we were lucky with how things fell and there’s actually quite a lot of space given the circumstances and nobody was hurt which is brilliant and you guys will get us out and…”

Brilliant, now she was rambling. Too many “ands” Miss Hermaszewska, need to think of some more interesting connectives.

Fortunately she was prevented from any more demonstrations of her linguistic inadequacy by the more verbally competent Jeff who yelled over “Miss, what’s your favourite type of shoe?”

At least she could answer this one without any too much controversy.

“My running shoes from a special shop in London. I love them because they are decorated with stars, have bright blue laces and are so comfortable they feel like clouds. I’m also quite convinced they make me run faster.”

Identify, describe, impact, interesting fact. A classroom-quality answer. The questions didn’t *always* take her by surprise.

“Sounds like I need some of those” Rescue Man lifted a leg and let it drop again “these have many qualities but cloud-like is not one of them.”

“Not wellies then, Miss?”

“Not wellies, no. You can’t run in wellies but they are good for muddy walks with Bez.”

“Awwww I love Bez!”

“He’s the hugest cutest floofiesf!”

“I love Bez the most!”

“No I DO!”

She chuckled and went to explain “Bez is my…”

He wasn’t listening but was frowning at the ceiling intently with his hand raised to the radio unit near his shoulder. “Virgil… what’s your status?” She could only hear static in response. He stood.

The vibrations had definitely became more noticeable. She got to her feet and did a quick assessment of where each of the children was and felt her heart leap into her throat as an entire section of the cave wall opposite shifted downwards by half a metre. 

Astra and Bee lay on their bellies just in front, fully engaged in a thumb war.

There wasn’t time to get them off the floor and out of the way! Acting on instinct, she threw herself over them and pulled their heads in under her body, bracing herself for the bone-breaking impact of cold unforgiving stone on her back. 

It didn’t come. 

There was an impact but it wasn’t a rock. It was warm and wrapped tightly around her as the wall disintegrated above her and debris rained down.

Panic seared through her veins and the whistling in her ears drowned out every thought but 

NO.

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[Link to Ch 4]

[AO3]

[dlux0124]

Short stories from my imagination.

Well, another boring week down, and another lonely little weekend planned to past the time. I've been single for a couple years now and spent dome real time healing and focusing on self growth. Which has been amazing I've got boundaries now that are not compromisable I can recognize when someone doesn't respect me and wants to trample all over me etc. But one thing they never mention at the beginning of your healing journey, the more healed you become the lonelyer you'll be, because you won't be willing to sacrifice your progress and health just to fill the lonely void. No its better to be healed and lonely than allow a hurt someone come in and bleed all over you and hurt you all over again..... Right? I mean I am really lonely I think to myself, maybe it wouldn't be that bad to let just anyone in, I've healed from before, I can heal again.... but is it worth it? I ask myself as I lay my fresh out of the shower naked body down on my changing mat. I lotion my body up with baby lotion then I sprinkle on some baby powder on my bottom an peepee, which is starting to grow hard as I quickly rub in the powder with one hand and pull my big fluffy bluy diaper up tith a couple stuffers inside just incase. And I quickly fasten the velcro like tabs snuggly securing the thick diaper in place.

Satisfied with fit and placement, I hop up and go over to my closet and find some footed jammies. I find my custom made Thundercats print ones, and slip into them, now that I'm clean, diapered and ready for another weekend of little time, I grab my stuffed mouse and we head toward the kitchen, we make some pizza rolls, and a couple sippy cups of juice, and a couple bottles of water. Once the pizza rolls are done me and mouse grab a bottle, a sippy, and the pizza rolls and head towards our playmat in the living room. Setting the pizza rolls and drinks on the coffee table, I plop down on my padded behind on the playmat grabbing the TV remote and firing up some good ol Heman cartoons.

I'm joyfully sitting there watching my cartoons eating my snacks, I quickly polished of my sippy of juice and I'm pretty sure I've wet myself at least once. But I'm not at all concerned I can't even feel any swelling or wetness so once I've finished my pizza rolls me and mouse grab the baby bottle and kick back against my bun bun the giant stuffed bunny. We're just lay there watching our show drinking our big baby bottle of water.

Suddenly there's a knock on the front door, I panic and check the security cameras, it's the cute lady from next door, so I jump up on the couch throw a blanket over my lap, stuff my bottle in the couch cushions and tell her to come in through the doorbell p.a. she comes in sits down on the other end of the couch, and starts immediately venting about how she just broke up with her jerk boyfriend who cheated on her and how she just want to feel wanted and needed, and be in control of the home and at home but wants to listen and respect her man in public, I offer a few words of comfort and advice but mostly just sit and listen.

Then out of nowhere she turns all her focus onto me and my place, she smirks and says "you sure do look cozy in those adorable Thundercats jammies by the way, am I interrupting your cartoons?" Now keep in mind I've had a crush on this woman since she moved in next door a year ago. So of course I reassure her no she's not interrupting anything, I was just cozying up for another quiet night to start off another boring weekend. She laughs, " you know I can see you through those windows over there right? I love watching you play with your toys, cuddling your stuffies, waddling around the house in your adorable outfits. So I know you're not that bored and I can hear you over here giggling and talking to Mr. Mouse. And I see you turning red, don't be embarrassed. I've been looking into some things and I'm pretty sure I've figured out that your a big abdl baby boy aren't you?"

At which she yanks the blanket off me and reaches over and grabs a handful of the front of my now very wet diaper. "I knew it and like I said, don't worry I think it's hot that you like to regress, I mean it makes sense, a big stealing man like you, you deserve a break from having to be the big dominant male boss. Now I can tell this diapers pretty wet,but I don't smell any presents in it!" At this point she's massaging the front of my diaper. And she's cuddled right up to me. I sheepishly begin explaining that I don't make a mess in my diaper which her face immediately gets a shocked look and suddenly my stomach betrays me and I'm reminded of the pizza rolls I'd had earlier.

"Well," she starts with a smirk, then peeling off both her shirt and bra in one quick move. Then reaching over to the back of my head and pulling me toward her blossom, she continues, " I think that baby is gonna have to start getting used to doing everything in his diaper." She's not got me to latch around her nipple and start dry nursing on her breast. "Here let me help your tummy feel better and push that mess where it belongs, right into the seat of your pants!" She coos as she's now rubing my stomach as I nurse on her, and before long I begin feeling like I'm about to loose all control and helplessly fill my pants with a big stinky mess, and I start trying to pinch my butt closed, until I hear "ah ah ah, if baby doesn't make a messy now he doesn't get any special naughty time during hims diaper change and I'll have to move on to more drastic measures to make sure my big baby boy fills hims diapey wipey with a big boom boom for me." And she pulls her breast away and gets her hands on my ankles and starts pushing my knees up into my chest in a very rhythmic motion and that was all it took, and every time she pushed a knee towards my chest, a warm firm poop pushes into my diaper. From her position she has dull view of the massive bulge forming in the back of my diaper and and she can hear all the crinkles and crackles as it starts to push my diaper away from my body.

"What a good baby you are!! Does that feel better now having all that icky out of your tummy and in your diaper where it belongs?" She coos as the last soft bit of mess squelched into my diaper. Thoroughly embarrassed my face buried in my hands I meekly nod yes. I feel her sit back down next to me and all of a sudden I feel her pulling me into her lap so that I'm straddling both her legs and doing all I can to not full sit in my mess. That is until she raises up her knees and makes me bring my full weight into her lap. As I do I feel the mess squishing and filling every void it could find. I feel it squishing up towards my back, and out towards my peepee until it envelopes all of me. Sending a strong smell of my shame into the room. My face still covered with my hands.

She pulls my hands down till there resting on her breast she lifts my chin so our gazes meet, "baby, it's OK my helped you go, now for your special treat, I need you to tell me what you just did in your diaper, ok? It's okay k ow it's icky, and you're super embarrassed even though you don't need to be, tell me what you just did, what'd you do in your diaper? Remember you're a baby so you're expected to." With tears filling my eyes and fighting back sobs I look into her eyes and manage to get out, "I just poopied, I did a big poopy in my diaper!" At which point I start sobbing and simultaneously wetting my now dirty diaper with an audible hiss. She pulls me in placing my head on her shoulder she's rubbing my back, stroking my hair and soothing me, "shhoosh, it's OK baby, it's OK, shhoosh... once you calm down we can get you out of that stinky dirty baby diaper and into a nice clean and dry one and she starts bouncing me on her lap.

This is causing a whole new set of sensations I'm not sure that I'm opposed to then I start getting aroused and my crying starts to subside. Once I'm just sniffling and obviously very erect she pushes me back up, so I'm bouncing on her knees. " see pooping your diaper isn't all bad is it?" She asks as she massages my hard on through the diaper while still bouncing me in her lap. As I meekly shake my head no, a naughty smile spreads across her face. When you're ready you can show me where you keep everything is and I can get you changed out of that yucky stinky diaper!" I let her give me a few more bounces and start trying to shimmy off her lap, so she puts her feet out in front of her dropping her knees down so I can wiggle backward, until I wiggle one time to many and fall back off the couch and straight onto my dirty bottom with a thud, I get kind grossed out as I feel the sudden jolt and the mess squishing as a result, I here her say "uh ohs did somebody fall downs? You're OK, thanks to that thick full diapee!! Come on let's get you changed!!" She grabs my hand and helps me up, and as I turn to start leading the way to the spare bedroom which I use essentially as my nursery, I feel her pat my butt "my my that is one full diaper honey!!" And as I start to walk I begin to realize just how right she is and my walk is really a penguine waddle forced by how swollen and full my diaper is. As we reach the spare bedroom I see her come in the room and staring at me with the most loving look and smile. "OK laydown baby." And she begins gathering all the supplies needed to change my diaper setting it all down on the nightstand next to the bed.

She then sexily takes off her leggings revealing she wasn't wearing any panties, she stands there now completely naked, smiling at me. She then unzips and pulls off my jammies. She reaches over grabs a few wipes out of the container, she pops one tab and pulls my raging hard on out, she wipes it clean then climbs on top of me and slowly lowers herself onto me until I'm buried inside of her and she's sat with a crinkle of my diaper. She moans, " oh baby, your diaper is so warm on my pussy, oh God my so wet and hot for you to come inside me!! Can you do that for mommy? She asks as she starts riding me faster and faster. "Can you cum inside mommy as she rides your glorious cock while you're still in your dirty diaper? Hmm. Cum for mommy and I'll put you in a fresh clean diaper. And with all the sensations I can't hold back anymore I grab her hips, pull her on to me "mommy I cumming!!" I exclaim as I start launch my seed into her. Suddenly her eyes roll back her body starts shaking and she starts growling, I can feel her pussing trying to pull ever last drop of cum out of me, which in turn makes me cum even harder to the point a little toot escapes my bottom followed by a decent mush of poop. She finally collapses onto of me. "Did you just poop while you you were cumming?" She asks panting, I emarassedly nod. "Oh that's so fucking hot honey. You're officially mine now, forever! I'm glad you like wearing diapers because baby, your not gonna wear big boy undies ever again! Everytime you pack your pampers for me, I'm going to fuck your brains out. Even after you start filling your pants without realizing it, no matter where we are or what we're doing,you're gonna give mom.y all your cummies before I change you. I might see you filling your diaper and throw you down and make you pump me full as you push your mess into your diaper. Oh mommy is getting so wet just thinking about it!! Let's go get some dinner dins in that tummy so you can make me another poopy diaper ok baby?"

[olderin]

Telemacho from Mr Velcro Fastener

[djchorlocontrolection]

Mr. Velcro Fastener - Gone Mad (Transparent Sound Remix) 2005

[earinfluxion]

Mr Velcro Fastener: Otherside (I220)

Tried n true chunky, techy electro courtesy of this Finnish duo who were active from 99 through the mid 00s.

Listen/purchase: Otherside by Mr Velcro Fastener

[jackson--t]

Hate me, adore me.

Part IV

Summary: Ivar is not good with children.

Words: 3.1 k

Warnings: smut, swear words, rude behaviour, a lot of fucks (really).

Tag buddys: @youbloodymadgenius @jadelynlace @punkrocknpearls @neverwantedagony​ @moonlightsspirit​

AO3? here.

Ivar liked many things.

He liked to watch his basketball games on TV, along with a cold beer. He loved Game of Thrones with ramen in his bed, all Sunday long when he wasn't on duty. He loved chocolate ice cream, preferably with lots of colorful sprinkles on top - and he loved good sex.

But on this day, Ivar felt reminded once again of all the things that annoyed him terribly and that drove the absolutely annoyed wrinkles on his forehead already at 7 a.m.; it wasn't just Heahmund's know-it-all attitude, once again, when he had forced Ivar to fasten his seat belt while driving; or the fact that he had once again wanted to forbid him to chew gum. Ivar had ironcladly defied the gum rule: because he needed it. He needed it bitterly so as not to get too upset and to keep his mouth closed as best he could, to have something to do so as not to let expletives hail. Because one of the causes of his bad mood was just waddling across the street at super low speed and was caustic and annoying: children.

Ivar had always successfully avoided having to escort the little buggers across the street in the morning until now - but thanks to Heahmund's terrific, terrible effort and his disgusting good nature as Mr. Jesus, he had been forced to ride with Heahmund to the nearest elementary school even before he was actually on duty, and to go on duty as a fucking friend and helper. His mood was in the basement, more than that.

He cast a scowl down at a small, blond girl who was staring at him with wide eyes; she had her mouth slightly open and was still staring at him when Ivar had turned away slightly. When he noticed, he looked at the girl again; the little girl blinked.

"Are you a policeman? You don't look very nice, do you?" the little girl squeaked, and Ivar rolled his eyes. He loved his job because of the guns, because of the violence, because of the "don't give a shit" attitude he could let out to some - but today was a shitty day. And those little green poison dwarfs didn't make it any better.

Ivar stared at the girl for a moment, then let out a deep and annoyed snort. "Nah, I'm a garbage man, you little devil. Move along before I eat you up."

The girl stopped for a moment in shock, and when Ivar took a faked step towards her, she shrieked and ran towards Heahmund, who was standing just a few feet away, directing the children across the street with a broad smile. Urgh, Mister Perfect. Again.

"Ivar!" echoed over to him, and Ivar chewed his gum in annoyance. He threw Heahmund a rough nod, while the older policeman eyed him indignantly.

"What are you doing? You're not supposed to scare the kids!" he said reprovingly, turning directly back to the little girl who Ivar had scared earlier with a smile.

Ivar wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He still couldn't decide what made him feel sicker to his stomach: those little buggers, or that the critters worshipped Heahmund so much it almost looked like a scene from the damn Bible.

It seemed worlds between today and yesterday; endless, endless days since he'd had sex with Heahmund, and for the first time experienced a different side of the cop than his haloed nerd side. Ivar bit his lower lip softly at the thought of their "slip" and stared at Heahmund; he hated to admit it, but that encounter had left its mark on Ivar.

Of course, he would never confess it in his life, not even under torture: but he had easily fallen for Heahmund - at least the part that had fucked him mercilessly yesterday. It had been that unbelievably good sex, that passion that had been there between them - and that sheer tension that had existed between them for ages. They were like fire and water, like night and day - but that's what made it exciting for Ivar. He had almost not been able to look at himself in the mirror the next morning, because he had actually jerked off to that memory twice the night after the "accident" - always that perfect body in front of his eyes, that smell that had been on Heahmund's skin, those damn arousing kisses that had given Ivar more than goosebumps.

And yet he hated him, in a way. The way he stood there, bringing those fucked-up kids across the street, with an angelic smile that sent sheer goosebumps of horror across Ivar's skin; he could hardly stand the way the little fuckers looked at the man like he was the next messiah, while they just eyed Ivar like something they were afraid of. Ivar just stared at a fat kid who was eyeing him particularly challengingly as he jutted his chin slightly.

"What do you want, pug face, huh?" he snarled, and it wasn't a second before Heahmund's voice thundered across the street.

"IVAR, damn it! It’s enough!" Oh, Ivar heard the anger from the raspy voice, that little thread of last, polite restraint guaranteed to snap in the patrol car. He looked at Heahmund, unimpressed, and raised an eyebrow; Heahmund's blue eyes had darkened.

"Would be nice if you didn't play godfather to the fucking lambs for once, so we can get out of here," Ivar retorted snottily, while Heahmund snorted.

"Okay, get in the car. And don't use those damn swear words! Kids, don't listen to him. They call him the Grinch at the station." Heahmund deaclred, amused, while he was immersed in soft children's laughter.

Ivar had had enough. He threw his stupid ladle against the sidewalk and lit a cigarette; he walked the few meters to the patrol car and casually leaned against the passenger side. His lungs were burning, so hard he pulled on the cigarette - but he didn't care. Let the fucking Heahmund shut his fucking mouth! Had he possibly imagined that there was more going on there? Had he possibly jerked off twice on him by mistake? Yes. But that was really just a slip. It could hardly be anything else, after all Ivar didn't go for men like Heahmund. Fuck it, whatever his stupid heart said.

It wasn't fifteen minutes before Heahmund appeared at the patrol car with a more than angry expression on his face; he stared at Ivar for a moment, then nodded roughly in the direction of the car. Ivar flicked his cigarette onto a patch of grass and got in; as they sat in the car, their eyes met. For a moment there was a tense silence, during which Ivar calmly chewed his gum so clearly that Heahmund could see it perfectly; only when he leaned back slightly did Heahmund's deep voice murmur at him.

"Did you just throw a lit cigarette on a lawn there?" he asked, and Ivar looked out the window for a moment. He snorted softly before turning to Heahmund again and putting on a soft, overly friendly smile that was hard to beat for sarcasm.

"I don't know, you should check it out. And maybe pick up trash on the side, and you're guaranteed to go to fucking heaven."

Heahmund's brow furrowed slightly; Ivar saw exactly how his hands curled into light fists, but he returned Heahmund's angry look with the still wide grin.

"Ivar, honestly, you're such a fucking asshole, you know that? I really want to punch you in the face right now. You do realize that throwing away burning cigarettes violates environmental regulations, and most importantly, endangers safety?" he hissed, and Ivar shrugged.

Heahmund looked at him for a moment, then actually got up and went outside to properly dispose of the cigarette. Ivar, meanwhile, stared out the window: he looked at Heahmund's butt, at the broad shoulders, at the handsome face that seemed to curse softly. "You fucking nerd, look at you.", Ivar muttered to himself, catching himself biting his lower lip lightly as Heahmund ran his hand through his black hair: one had to hand it to him, he was just damn good looking.

Ivar was still staring at him, too, when Heahmund sat down next to him again and let out a deep sigh; he leaned his head back for a moment, though Ivar was still looking at him. Something tingled inside him.

"You could... hmm... you could punish me really bad under Section 17b, don't you think? You fucking nerd.", Ivar hummed softly; as Heahmund's blue eyes locked on him, he grinned slightly. And his body was bathed in sheer goosebumps when Heahmund finally turned the ignition key and snorted softly. Ivar knew he was taking him up on his offer when they drove into an area where there were almost no buildings - except abandoned factories. It was almost too good, the tingle that shot through his bones when Heahmund finally parked; and before the older cop could open his mouth and lecture again about any regulations, Ivar's hands had cupped around his face and he was kissing the older man, who, underneath all the hatred and dislike, also inspired terrible and urgent lust in him.

He couldn't even last two minutes in his own seat and had quickly sat down wide-legged on Heahmund's lap. The older cop emitted a slight gasp, almost barely audible, as Ivar's hands dug through his clothes, fumbling with the belt of his pants.

"You're insatiable. And a monster.", Heahmund groaned out between two biting kisses; his hand had long since made its way to Ivar's bulletproof vest, undoing the Velcro and pushing the soft shirt up under Ivar's vest. Ivar loved those warm, rough hands on his torso, and he let Heahmund feel it clearly with a soft moan. His fingers ran desirously urging along Heahmund's zipper on his pants, feeling the thick bulge in them that he was particularly lusting after. Fuck, he was so fucking hot for this guy it was almost embarrassing.

"No foreplay, you greedy grinch? Fuck, Ivar... at least with a condom this time!", Heahmund murmured softly, even though Ivar's hands were already pushing and softly rushing into his pants. When he had the thick and already hard cock in his hand, Ivar exhaled for a moment; he closed his eyes and pressed himself against Heahmund's torso before hissing softly, "Tell me, are you somehow only getting horny when you have protection? You want to maybe leave that fucking vest on during sex too, nerd?"

As Ivar intensified his movements on Heahmund's cock, Heahmund's pelvis clearly moved upward; Ivar sensed him looking at him and opened his eyes.

"Would it turn you on?" Heahmund murmured breathlessly; Ivar opened his lips breathlessly, moving his warm hand tighter and tighter around Heahmund's cock. He loved how the trained cop grew harder and harder, how wet drops of pleasure appeared on his tip, which Ivar easily wiped away with a slight gasp and a nimble movement with his thumb; Heahmund moaned, but they were still looking at each other.

The corners of Ivar's mouth lifted slightly, then he grunted. "Fuck, yeah."

"I knew it. Harder." Heahmund moaned, pulling Ivar's neck closer, covering his neck with warm, smooth, slightly biting kisses as Ivar's hand continued steadily. His own erection was pressing like mad against his pants, and Ivar was so incredibly hot for Heahmund that he didn't take any time. After all, a damn stake could flutter in at any moment.

He unzipped his own pants to the slight groan of Heahmund, pulling them down somewhat awkwardly along with his boxers to the point where he could still practically sit well on top of Heahmund; his body was covered in goosebumps as he watched Heahmund spit into his own hand in one fluid motion, wetting his hard cock with it. Ivar grinned slightly; he wet two of his fingers before sliding them into his entrance with a slightly awkward motion, widening it slightly; the sound that came from Heahmund sent pure pleasure through his body. The two looked at each other.

"Fuck, Ivar. You're such a fucking beast, I swear I'll fuck the hell out of you already."

"Oh, come on - you're into it. You probably only had 0815 cunts that looked pretty but had nothing on them."

Ivar almost whimpered when Heahmund abruptly stopped him from his movements; his fingers slipped out and he was pulled onto Heahmund's lap with a firm and strong grip; he placed himself over Heahmund's cock, moaning slightly as he looked into the dark-haired man's eyes.

"Then let's see how good you can ride, gutter boy!" Heahmund groaned; Ivar's fingers clawed brutally at Heahmund's chin, holding it up as he gently lowered his pelvis and let Heahmund's hard cock slide carefully inside him; he did it deliberately slowly, letting that rock-hard muscle stretch him open gently, loving the way Heahmund's mouth opened slightly, the way his fingers clawed harder into the flesh of his hips.

"Fuck, Ivar!" he moaned darkly, and Ivar jerked his chin up again that had turned shallowly towards his chest - those blue eyes staring at him full of fire.

"Don't call me that! You fucking bastard." Ivar hissed; he whimpered softly as he felt himself sink to the base on Heahmund; they were both breathing heavily, and Ivar pulled Heahmund's face closer to him, pulling the older cop into a biting, hard kiss before slowly moving up and down.

Fuck, damn. It hadn't been enough that Heahmund had been an absolute grenade in bed the last time, no - his cock just seemed made for Ivar's core. It was perfect in thickness, and even more perfect in length, that it was already softly grazing the soft bundle of nerves inside Ivar with every deep movement Ivar made on it. Ivar swallowed audibly and clawed at the back of Heahmund's neck; he loved feeling the pressure of Heahmund's hands on his body, loved the fucking vest he was still wearing, which only further vocalized his fucking nerdiness, which seduced Ivar beyond belief. His movements became steadier, more violent, and he became more and more breathless.

Oh man, this was going to end in an orgasmic disaster. Heahmund was just too good.

They kissed breathlessly, and Heahmund's hands slid up to Ivar's waist; they closed warmly around the arches of his ribs, supporting him in the movements that were becoming more fluid and deeper, even as they took away Ivar's breath. His belly was pleasantly filled with warmth, so full of feeling.

"We can...fuck, Ivar!- ...we could maybe discuss the punishment thing over an evening...dinner. Fuck, you're killing me," Heahmund cursed, and Ivar threw his head back slightly.

He knew he wouldn't last long - but he would definitely not get ahead of Heahmund this time. He knew too many tricks in this position for that. He smiled softly as he let his entrance twitch slightly around the thick cock; it drove a moan from Heahmund's lips.

"Is that a fucking date, Heahmund?" Ivar exhaled, clawing harder at the base of Heahmund's black hair on the back of his neck. The older cop underneath him groaned, and his hands at his waist twitched. Ivar repeated the motions twice before Heahmund threw his head back slightly in his seat.

"Is...no, this is an...on-duty...fuck!... meeting”. Heahmund's voice grew harsher, thirstier, Ivar heard it clearly. It turned him on so much that he himself had to be beastly careful not to come right on top of that hard cock thrusting into his prostate at the perfect angle over and over again; but he was too proud. He held out for a little while longer. But the thought that Heahmund had just asked him for a private meeting chased even more lust into his body.

He was hot, so damn hot inside.

"Sure, you weirdo." Ivar hummed with pleasure, soaking in the taste of another kiss that Heahmund breathlessly gave him; his hands weren't letting go now, and the cop's pelvis thrusting from below was getting a little faster. When their lips parted, Heahmund opened his eyes slightly, seeking Ivar's gaze.

"Fuck, I think I..." he groaned, and Ivar moaned.

"You're coming, aren't you? Come on, you know I want you to...", Ivar breathed against those fucking delicious lips, stealing a breathless kiss before watching Heahmund's eyes close with a powerful wave of heat in his body.

"Fuck, I'm coming..." the cop moaned so harshly that Ivar moaned softly; he clawed at Heahmund's body as tightly as he could, wrapping his heated arms tightly around the body, almost amazed, manically turned on, at how quickly it made Heahmund come, that simple touch.

The man groaned a dark moan right at Ivar's sensitive collarbone, deep and rough as he came jerking inside Ivar. Ivar continued to ride him, riding him hard and demanding until he too felt the violent crashing peak of his orgasm: the wave of pleasure crashed over him so brutally that he had to stop his riding movements to avoid losing control completely. Just like the first time, this orgasm tore out something deep inside Ivar, gave him everything he needed, nourished him with so much love and lust that he almost choked on it.

The windows were fogged the hell up when Ivar broke away from Heahmund after what felt like an eternity; they were able to wipe away the mess they'd both made just fine, because of course the nerdy Heahmund had good tissues with him; Ivar grunted quietly and had to grin a little wryly when Heahmund had to spend a long time wiping at a stain on his black vest, with a quiet, annoyed snort.

"You can tell it's gravy," Ivar said, earning a nasty look from Heahmund after he luckily managed to remove the stain just fine; when Ivar was back in his seat and, to Heahmund's satisfaction, even buckled up for once, Heahmund looked over at him. The two looked at each other, and then Heahmund smiled slightly.

It was a beautiful smile, one that Ivar hadn't seen from him before, and one that made him feel sick in a different way than he did on the road today. As if suddenly, there was something in his belly that fluttered around like crazy and made him almost happy inside. Disgustingly happy.

"I was serious about the... dinner." Heahmund said; the blue eyes sparkled slightly, and Ivar grinned a little wider. He couldn't go soft now, no way - Heahmund couldn't score points everywhere with his nerdy, gentlemanly behavior, after all. "Maybe we'll get along better someday. Get to know each other better." the dark-haired man added, and Ivar turned his head slightly so that Heahmund wouldn't see him blush slightly on his cheeks. He popped a new piece of gum into his mouth and winked.

"Shut up and drive, you miserable nerd. You won't get the Nobel Peace Prize for polishing, too."

But his heart had already said yes, and he also knew, without looking over, that Heahmund knew, too.

[limjaeseven]

Mr Lim's Pie Shop

Pairing: Youngjae X Jaebeom

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2,823

Summary: There is something inconceivably arousing about watching Jaebeom dismember the bodies of the customers who came to Youngjae's shop for a shave to make pies out of.

or

Jaebeom's pie shop is in jeopardy because one Jackson Wang opened a salon across the street and Youngjae plans to do something about it (aka 2.8k of pure filth).

Warning(s): Murder, mutilation, implied cannibalism, anal sex, anal fingering, dirty talk, lard as lube, bloodplay, knifeplay

[a/n]: This fic was written for the lovely @cheriebeom, I hope you enjoy it!

Youngjae smiled brightly as a customer walked in through the door, the small bell on it ringing in the process, the sound cutting through the silence in the room. The man was dressed rather stylishly, his long tweed jacket swaying behind him as he sat in the leather chair. Youngjae wordlessly moved behind him, wrapping the cutting cape around his neck, fastening the velcro at the man’s nape.

The man closed his eyes as Youngjae spread the lather on his face, his movements precise and clinical. Reaching into his apron, he pulled out the blade, flipping it out of its engraved casing, the cold metal shining in the moonlight that streamed through the window on the cold winter evening. Youngjae pressed the edge against the man’s neck, pulling it up in practiced motions, the sound of hair cutting filling the room. He could feel the shiver run down his customer’s spine at the sharpness of the frigid razor.

The smile on Youngjae’s face turned into a smirk as he placed the blade back at the base of the man’s neck, but this time, instead of pulling up, he let the instrument linger for a moment pressing gently at first before slashing it cleanly against the man’s throat, his cry of pain dead before it even left his lips. Pressing the lever concealed under the seat with the heel of his foot, he watched the floorboards part and the chair tip back, sending the body falling down to the basement where he would take care of it later.

He lifted his foot back up and the chair restored its upright position and the wood slid back into place underneath it. Youngjae made his way to the sink in the corner of the room, washing his blade reverently, as if the instrument was an extension of his own hand. The made quick work of cleaning up the blood that had splattered on the leather of the seat, taking off his stained apron and throwing it into the basket full of bloodied cloth in the corner of the room and shutting it tightly, making a mental note to take it down with him later, long overdue for a wash.

There were no more customers after that, much to Youngjae’s dismay. The traffic at his shop had reduced because of the opening of a new salon right opposite to his, run by a friendly young man by the name of Jackson Wang who sported a smile brighter and a tone of voice smoother than Youngjae’s. He would have to pay a visit to the barber sometime soon, to ‘discuss’ their plans and make sure they don’t run each other out of business.

Turning the door sign to ‘closed’, he made his way down the flight of stairs that wrapped around the outside of the building, stopping at the base, right in front of the entrance of a bakery who’s plaque read ‘Mr Lim’s Pie Shop’. The owner of the establishment, one Lim Jaebeom, had offered Youngjae the upper floor of his shop to re-establish his craft after returning to the city after many years away.

Pushing open the glass door that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years and had turned into a cloudy mess instead of being clear, Youngjae stepped inside, immediately greeted with the smell of freshly baked pies and the sight of Jaebeom rolling out pastry, spooning meat filling from an abnormally large bowl into the casings before sealing them up and lining them up on a tray that clearly hadn’t been washed between batches.

“Done for the day?” The baker asked, his voice singsongy, eyes still glued to the pies even as Youngjae slipped behind the counter to steal one of them from the front display and took a big bite out of it. The younger man hummed, chewing slowly, mulling over the lack of business and trying his best not to let it get to his head.

“That Wang’s business is thriving, meaning less customers.” Jaebeom’s eyebrows furrowed at the comment, knowing that the lack of clientele would hurt his own business too. Wiping his hands off on his stained apron, Jaebeom turned around to look at Youngjae, conjuring the best puppy eyes he could and throwing his hands around the younger man’s shoulders.

“Why don’t you drop by his place tomorrow afternoon? It wouldn’t be too surprising if a new business closed early due to a sudden family emergency that the owner experienced, making him disappear, leaving the salon without any skilled barbers to service the customers.” Youngjae smiled at his lover, enjoying the sensation of Jaebeom’s short fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck.

“Great minds think alike,” Youngjae whispered as he leaned down to leave a peck against Jaebeom’s lips before pulling away to throw his aprons in the wash, leaving Jaebeom to finish his work and tend to the shop for the following hour or so before he closed the place down for the night. Opening the door behind the counter, he stepped into the hall connecting the shop to their shared bedroom, the bathroom and the door to the basement.

He let the garments soak in soapy water in a bucket, watching the liquid turning red as the blood diffused in light trails. It would be a pain to get the stains out, especially since he’d let some of them remain for the better part of the week but some bleach and a bit of elbow grease should do the job. Stepping out of the bathroom, he made his way down another flight of stairs, into the fire lit basement under the shop, where a small pile of bodies lay in the centre of the room, the blood pooling on the already stained stone floor.

Dragging them one by one to the large butchering table in the corner of the room, Youngjae lined them up neatly, lifting the last one up onto the counter and spreading it out the way he had been taught to, making quick work of cutting the clothes and throwing them into the fireplace. Making sure the Jaebeom’s favourite cleaver was clean and in its place, hanging off the wall seemingly harmlessly, Youngjae turned his attention back to the rest of the bodies and stripped them, finishing just in time to hear the sound of heavy boots clicking against cold stone steps.

“There really are fewer customers these days, aren’t there,” Jaebeom mused as he observed the men below him, prodding their flesh with the tip of his shoe here and there. Youngjae wordlessly stepped away from the table and let Jaebeom take his place, the short fingers swapping his baking apron for his butchering one. Black latex gloves covered his hands as he unhooked the cleaver and gripped the rosewood tightly.

The blows were graceful and mesmerising, as Jaebeom cleanly separated the limbs from the man’s torso, only draining away the excess blood and throwing them into a pile on a large metal tray. Youngjae turned on the meat grinder next to him and waited for the plate to fill before he dumped the flesh into the feeder at the top, watching the machine crush the skin, muscle and bones into a paste.

The sound of the knife hitting the wooden cutting board and the grinder pulverising flesh filled the room, a rather therapeutic experience for Youngjae. He always enjoyed watching Jaebeom focus on his work, the way his brows furrowed in concentration never failing to turn him on. The way blood stained his arms made him look like the personification of lust, and Youngjae wanted to devour him whole right then and there.

But he knew better than to interrupt the baker when he was butchering, his mind far too gone to think about anything other than flesh and blood, the overflowing intestines and floppy organs. He often loved to carve right down the chest, splitting apart the ribs to pull the heart out and admire it in his gloved hand, savouring the feel of the cold muscle. There was a fire in his eyes whenever he was in front of his cutting table or under Youngjae, it made his eyes glow red in the most hypnotising way.

Dropping the cleaver onto the table with a loud clang, Jaebeom slipped a finger under the glove on his wrist, the latex snapping against his skin when all the blood made his grip slip. Youngjae stepped back behind Jaebeom, his long digit feeling around the man’s arms before prying the plastic off his skin, tugging at the material firmly but slowly before dropping them on the bloodied chopping board. The room was silent since Youngjae had turned the grinder off, only the sounds of Jaebeom’s laboured breaths filling the space.

Unfastening the apron, Youngjae made quick work of discarding it, turning Jaebeom around to face him. His collar had splotches of blood from when he’d brought the cleaver down too hard, making the liquid splash everywhere. In the next few moments, the chopping board was pushed away and Jaebeom was raised onto the cold metal surface of the table. His hands reached out behind him to brace himself, only to be met with the sharp end of the cleaver that nicked his finger in the process.

Jaebeom hissed as a small drop of blood ran down his finger, but Youngjae grabbed his wrist before he could wipe it away, instead wrapping his lips around the digit and lapping at the wound with his warm tongue. He smirked at the broken sound that escaped his lover’s lips at the action before pulling off slowly, their eyes locked together.

“Stop teasing,” The elder whined, making Youngjae chuckle before he gave in, leaning forward to capture his lips. Their teeth clashed harshly as they kissed, desire burning through their insides and nipping right under their skin. A shiver ran down Jaebeom’s spine as Youngjae worked his hands down his chest, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt, not minding how the blood clung onto his fingertips in the process.

The garment was thrown onto the floor, left to soak up the grime as Youngjae pressed his hand firmly against Jaebeom’s bare chest, forcing him to lay down on the table. He hissed at the cold metal making contact with his skin but was soon distracted by the younger’s hands roaming over his torso, callused fingertips grazing over his sensitive nipples.

Jaebeom could feel the blood soaking into his skin and hair but there was something so intoxicating about the way Youngjae looked at him that he could barely process anything other than his teasing touches. Unbuttoning the elder’s pants, Youngjae pulled them down along with his boxers, leaving Jaebeom naked, spread out just like one of the bodies he had just hacked apart.

Terror flashed in Jaebeom’s eyes as Youngjae seemingly read his mind and reached over for the cleaver lying discarded on the table, congealed blood crusted along the sharp edge. Pressing the tip of the blade lightly against his own palm, Youngjae savoured the sting of it slicing through his skin effortlessly, a single drop of blood sliding down the knife.

Glancing at Jaebeom, he smirked before bringing the metal down onto his left thigh, flat, smearing the mix of fresh and dry blood on his skin. A broken whimper left his lover as the knife made its way up, closer to his pelvis, stopping just at the top of his thigh before circling his stomach, just around where his hard cock lay, red and dripping.

“Should I cut you up just like you did Mr Park? Throw you into the grinder and bake you into fresh pies for the customers?” Youngjae’s voice sounded so dangerous, his tone several octaves lower as his eyes flickered between the blade and Jaebeom’s eyes. “You’d taste so delicious like that, and no one would know better. They’d come back and ask me to make those special pies again but I’d have to tell them that they were one of a kind, inimitable.” The elder only let out a broken moan in reply, too overwhelmed to formulate a coherent response.

Youngjae let the blade drop on the table with a loud clatter, making the baker jump in surprise. The younger couldn’t help but admire how vulnerable and pliant he looked under him, the fear in his eyes making his skin heat up. Wrapping one hand around Jaebeom’s neglected cock, Youngjae stroked the skin roughly. He dragged the bottle of lard that Jaebeom kept nearby for adding to the meat, scooping some in his palm to ease the slide.

Jaebeom thrashed at the sensation, pleasure coursing through his veins as the younger quickened his pace, working him up closer to his climax. He felt the muscles in his lower abdomen tighten but before he could even tell Youngjae that he was close, the hand disappeared, making Jaebeom whimper loudly.

Youngjae made a sound of disapproval as he pulled away, “You thought you could cum without my permission? You never learn, do you?” Lifting the jar up, he tipped it, letting the fat drip over Jaebeom’s sensitive member, all the way down to his taint. One finger pushed against his tight rim, punching the breath out of him at the sensation, circling around for a moment before slipping inside. Youngjae worked the finger roughly, quickly adding another and scissoring the elder man open, leaning down to swallow the high pitched moans that escaped his lips.

“Jae-ah please, fuck me already,” Jaebeom whined, his breath leaving him in hot puffs against the younger’s lips. Adding one more finger, Youngjae massaged the baker’s walls before pulling out just to undo his belt and push his pants down, letting them bunch up around his thighs, too impatient to actually discard them. He used the remaining lard to coat his cock before lining it up with Jaebeom’s entrance and pushed in a single, practiced thrust.

They moaned in unison as Youngjae moved his hips, pace wild from the beginning. Watching the elder writhe under him and wound the man up so tight that all he could feel was the arousal burning through his veins as he mercilessly pushed into Jaebeom. With one hand firmly at the baker’s hip, he let his other hand roam up, fingers teasing the head of Jaebeom’s cock before moving up to pinch at his nipples, twisting them harshly, making Jaebeom squirm, his own hands hitting the table in hopes to find something to hold on to.

The sound of metal hitting metal caught Youngjae’s attention, making him notice the cleaver rattling on the table. Once again, he wrapped his fingers around the rosewood handle of the knife, pressing it against Jaebeom’s long neck while his head was tipped back in pleasure. A confused moan left the elder as he became conscious of the blade against his skin, waiting to cut him up and make him bleed.

His eyes locked with Youngjae’s wild ones just as the younger found his prostate, ramming into it repeatedly. Pleasure wracked through Jaebeom’s body in waves, his head still held back, careful of the knife. Youngjae leaned down to suck marks right under where the cleaver sat, mouthing at the tender skin hungrily, his impending climax catching up with him in a hurry.

“Cum for me,” Youngjae mumbled, trailing the knife down towards Jaebeom’s leaking cock. The words hit Jaebeom like a truck, his body letting go before he could even process what they meant. Thick ropes of cum covered his stomach and the blade and the sight was enough to tip Youngjae over the edge, his head tipping back as he came inside Jaebeom. A few more weak thrusts followed as he worked through their orgasms, letting the exhaustion take over his mind as he pulled out.

Jaebeom whimpered at the sensation of lard and cum dripping out of him, though his eyes were fixed on his cleaver that Youngjae held up in front of his face, the surface covered in blood and his release. Raising an eyebrow, the younger brought the blade down, flattening it against Jaebeom’s lips and the latter instinctively opened his mouth, tongue making quick work of licking the grime away. He savoured the sharp taste of iron, glancing at the way Youngjae breathed heavily at the sight every now and then.

Once the knife was deemed clean by the younger, he pulled Jaebeom up, helping him off the counter and carrying him up the stairs to the bathroom, setting him down in the clean tub. The water filled up quickly, warm and a light shade of pink as it washed away the blood staining Jaebeom’s skin. Youngjae ran his hand through his lover’s hair, pushing the long locks away from his sleepy face, before placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Let’s hope Jackson makes good pies, it would help your business too.”

[writing-good-vibes]

all the other kids (part 3)

still writing about jack dante, my favourite unstable man child, when he was actually a child (teenager now, i suppose). WARNING for mention of guns, schoolyard-typical violence and capitalism.

When Jack was sixteen, some suit came to visit him. He hadn’t had any visitors in the entire time he’d been at the hospital.

An orderly took him out of his morning class, leading him to the visiting room that he had never been to. It was a large room, with round tables and plastic chairs, the yellow paint on the walls was faded and scuffed around the skirting board. There was a battered cardboard box of toys in the corner for the younger kids.

A man stood by the window, hands in his pockets, back to the room.

The orderly pushed Jack inside, closing the door behind him and waiting outside. Jack looked down at his sneakers, the Velcro straps haphazardly fastened. He still wasn’t allowed shoelaces.

He didn’t notice that the man had turned around until he spoke, “You must be Jack.”

Jack looked up; a hand was being held out to him. He didn’t shake it.

“My names Robert Nicholson, and I’ve heard some very interesting things about you.”

“Like what?”

“Like how you’re excelling in maths and the sciences, so much so that the teachers here can’t keep up with you anymore. And how you’ve scored one of the highest IQs in the country.”

Jack smirked to himself.

“I work for a very profitable armament company, we make a lot of products, mostly home security and arsenals for gun fanatics. But, do you wanna know a secret?”

Jack’s piercing stare met with Nicholson’s. He tried not to smile when Nicholson recoiled slightly, “Sure.”

“We have some military contracts. Some, off the books, contracts.”

Jack’s interest was piqued. Shady government shit, armament companies, gun fanatics. All stuff that Jack could totally get on board with. “Why are you here?”

“Because you’ve had ideas that usually we pay much less intelligent people to come up with.”

They let him show Nicholson to his room, with very close supervision, not so much for Jack’s safety as for Nicholson’s. His walls were lined with various drawings and schematics of weapons, some he could make right now if they gave him free reign of the hospital, some he needed specialist materials for. Military grade materials. Materials that even CHAANK might not be able to get their hands on.

Nicholson stayed pretty quiet for the most part, letting Jack explain things as and when he wanted to. Even when he did ask questions, he quickly learned that Jack would reroute any questions he didn’t like the sound of anyway.

Once he took Nicholson through his… portfolio, pointedly skipping over some of the more technical and outlandish designs, Jack sat back on his bed, hunching his shoulders. He didn’t want to talk anymore.

The orderly at the door coughed deliberately. Nicholson looked at his watch, as though he was the one who was being kept.

“I hope we’ll meet again soon, Jack,” he went to pat him on the shoulder, but Jack pulled away.

After Nicholson left, Jack was called into see Dr Garner.

“I have an admirer,” he told her.

She explained that, although it was flattering that people could recognise his intelligence, she didn’t want him to read too much into Mr. Nicholson’s visit, it might not be the best path for Jack to pursue. You shouldn’t allow people to exploit you for their benefit, if it’s going to hurt you.

Now, he hadn’t quite been offered a job, but he didn’t not get offered one either. Legally they couldn’t employ a sixteen-year-old, and with his residence at the hospital preventing any off-the-books deals, the best offer Nicholson had to him was a guaranteed position once he left the care of the hospital.

Jack had elected not to tell him that there was a very high chance he wouldn’t ever be leaving.

[hufflepuff-spidey]

Kind Hearted - 3

[PREVIOUS] // [TAGLIST] // [MASTERLIST]

Teacher!Harrison x Single Mom Au

Summary: Reader has an autistic child who she loves more than anything. Harrison is the new head of the LRC department at his school. When Matthew grows attached to the educator, the reader can’t help to as well. (Eventual smut)

Word count: 1244

Warning: None? Maybe a swear? I can’t remember.

A/n: Decided to split this chapter into two parts! Let me know if you wanna be tagged or add yourself to my tag list :)

“ello?” Harrison groaned into the receiver of his cell phone, rubbing his eyes awake. The blurriness of his clock read 3:00am. Who in the hell would be calling him at this hour?

“Hey mate sorry to wake you,” Tom’s voice nasally replied, “Do you think you can sub for me today? Harry already said he could sub your class… I just don’t want to leave Matthew with someone he doesn’t know. I dunno how he’d react.. I mean it’s totally fine if you say no…”

“Tom!” Harrison caught off the rambling. “Of course I can sub for you. I know exactly what you mean with Matthew, it’s fine. Maybe I can introduce and ease him into Harry today, okay? Get your rest.”

The brunette let out a sigh of relief “Thanks so much, bro. I’ll let Jacob, Martha and y/n know. I owe you.”

Harrison sat up in bed, “I know you’d do the same for me. I appreciate you looking out for Matt.”

Tom coughed, “Don’t think we’re not going to discuss your feelings for y/n, mate. Zendaya even asked about it.”

“Take something and get some more sleep, you’re obviously delirious.” The blonde rolled his eyes.

“I have to contact everyone first. Then I’ll take some cough syrup and pass out. Love you mate.”

Harrison groaned again and laid back down, trying to catch a couple more hours of sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning, bud! I have good news for you today!” you said greeting Matthew as he made his way into the kitchen.

“What is it momma?” He asked while carefully pouring his cereal in the bowl laid out for him on the table.

“Well, it looks like Mr. Harrison is going to be your aide today!”

Matthew cheered, making sure he did not spill his milk in the process.

“Is Mr. Tom okay???” The seven-year-old set the milk pourer down, taking a bite.

“He woke up with a little bit of a cough so he asked Mr. Harrison if he would sit with you today and he said yes.” You explained, sitting down next to the boy, grabbing the milk pourer to add to your coffee.

“Can I make him a card today in class?” Matthew asked, swallowing his cereal.

“I think he would like that, Matt. Maybe when you go to the LRC room?”

Matthew gasped, “if Mr. Harrison is going to be with me, who’s gonna watch everyone else in his class??”

You smiled, taking a sip of the heavenly coffee, “I believe Tom said his brother Harry is going to watch Mr. Harrison’s kids today so they won’t be lonely.”

The boy nodded, “Mr. Tom says his brothers are really nice so it’s good cuz if they weren’t nice that would be bad.”

“You’re very right, Matthew.” You told him, taking his empty bowl of cereal and putting it in the sink.

“Do you have all your work in order for class?” You ask, grabbing his backpack as he velcros his shoes.

Matthew nodded, his tongue poking put as he gets his shoes fastened just right.

And the car ride to school began.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, who can tell me what time it is when the big hand in on the 5 and the little hand is on the 8?”

Harrison smiled when Matthew rose his hand proudly, this boy never seized to amaze him.

Mrs. Hinton looked around the room before calling on a girl in the back of the room who didn’t even have her hand raised.

Matthew frowned but lowered his hand and kept his head held high.

This happened throughout the morning. Mrs. Hinton would ask a question to the class and refuse to pick on Matthew, who always rose his hand. Harrison could tell how much it was affecting the boy and lured him out of the room before it escalated.

“Hey bud, why don’t we go to the LRC room a little early so you can meet Tom’s brother?”

The boy nodded, silently packing his things before following the blonde out of the classroom.

The pair made it to the LRC room before the seven-year-old lost his battle with his cries.

Harrison was on his knees in an instant, wrapping Matthew in a hug.

“It’s not fair! When I know the answers she never picks me! It’s not fair Mr. Harrison!” the boy wailed.

“Has this happened before, Matt?” Harrison asked while rubbing his hand up and down Matthew’s back in a soothing motion, trying to get him to calm down.

Matthew nodded against Harrison’s shoulder. “She never picks on me ever!”

Harry made his way toward the situation with tissues and squats down next to them.

“Is this the famous Matthew I hear so much about?” He asked softly, not wanting to spook the already upset boy.

Harrison gave his friend a grateful look as Matthew sniffled nodding.

“Are you Mr. Tom’s brudder?”

Harry smiled, handing the boy a tissue. “I sure am! Why don’t you join me on the carpet and I can help you calm down a bit while Harrison calls your momma?”

Matthew blew his nose and nodded, “Okay. Can I make Mr. Tom a feel better card?”

The red-head nodded, “I think he’d like that a lot. Why don’t we wash our hands first, yeah?”

Harrison made his way toward his desk, called y/n from his work phone and sent Jacob an email in warning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say you were pissed was an understatement. You bypassed the office completely and headed directly for the LRC classroom where Harrison met you outside the door.

“Is he alright? How upset did he get?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. It was only a small episode that Harry and I were able to contain fairly quickly, but since apparently this is a common occurrence, I thought I’d bring this to your attention”

You nodded, pursing your lips. “Do you think anything is going to be done about it this time?”

Harrison sighed, “Honestly… Not really. Like Jacob has been saying, the budget is so tight and the district isn’t going to allow Matt to transfer classes this far in the year.”

You massaged your temples, taking a deep breath “Do you think it’s time to get my lawyer involved?”

“As someone who is employed by this school and apart of the union, I’m required to say no however, I cannot physically stop you.” Blue eyes bore into yours.

In that moment, the LRC door opened and Zendaya slid through. “y/n, it’s good to see you again. I apologize about the circumstance.”

You smiled at the guidance counselor, “Thank you. Have you talked with Matt?”

She nodded, glancing at how close you and Harrison were standing next to each other, “I’m about to go talk to Jacob before we all head into a meeting. Tom has mentioned to me that this has happened once or twice before and I’ve been keeping a record of it. Matthew seems to be doing fine right now, he’s making a card with Harry so that was a good distraction while I asked him about the encounter.”

“Thanks for everything, Z. I appreciate it.” You sighed out, “I’m going to go check up on Matt.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll come get y’all after Jacob is briefed.” Zendaya nodded and walked to the main office.

“Come on, the rest of the class is at recess so it’s only Matt and Harry in there.” Harrison opened the door to the classroom, letting you walk inside.

Tag list: @peonyophelia / @lukeys-giggle / @sarah-m-limelight-2007 / @bebudaful / @tristfulsighs / @fanficparker / @amberboo329 / @redlips-c / @multifandomlover121 / @liljennyx3 / @peterbxrnes / @deadlyaffairs / @nikkixostan / @coni-martina / @tinyy-tom /  @mydudeharrisonosterfield​ / @superheroesaremytea​ / @to-reblog-through-adoration​

[unapologeticallyaisha-archive]

Lost and Found - part 4/6

As Nikki was finishing up the disgusting dish, there was a screeching sound. David, Edgar, and Harrison’s parents had returned.

Edgar was now wearing a pink-and-white plaid shirt over his Camp Campbell T-shirt, along with new shorts and Velcro shoes. He was carrying a new backpack that supposedly contained his other purchases and belongings. Harrison was greatly reminded of who his brother used to be, and it made him feel excited.

David led Harrison’s parents towards the counselors’ cabin. Edgar went inside the mess hall.

“May I see what you bought?” Harrison asked.

Edgar put his bag on the ground and showed Harrison. He had several more plaid shirts, shorts, socks and a cap. “I’m starving.”

While waiting for the leftovers to be microwaved, Edgar flipped through one of the origami instruction books lying on the table, glancing at various patterns before settling on a pinwheel. He then took a single sheet from the pile of sorted paper and began folding something.

Dolph ran over to watch Edgar. “Oooh, a pinwheel!”

Edgar felt disturbed by Dolph watching him, but said nothing. He was slow and careful.

Preston started a conversation with the campers who hadn’t returned to their volleyball game about whether it would be possible to weave a noose from paper strips. It turned into a discussion about the best noose materials.

Edgar’s paper folding was coming out too asymmetrical.

“The edges are not aligned!” Dolph cried.

Edgar ignored him, pressing down the edges as well as he could. It didn’t get better, and Dolph looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.

A few minutes later, the pinwheel still looked terrible. Nerris opened her mouth to laugh, but stopped when she saw Harrison glaring at her.

“Oh, forget it.” Edgar ran out of the mess hall.

“Edgar!” Harrison chased after him.

Edgar was clenching his fists and beating his head with them. “It’s become worse!”

“Edgar, it’s okay,” said Harrison.

“I practice and I try, and it gets worse when I’m stressed and I -” Edgar stopped abruptly.

Harrison reached for his brother, but Edgar gently pushed Harrison’s hands aside. “I need to be alone for a bit.” He went off towards the lake.

When Edgar had left the room, Nikki went over to Edgar’s bag. Several of the other campers also followed her, ignoring the lunch the Quartermaster was serving.

Nikki pulled out the small bag of objects Edgar’s parents had given him. She took out a tool with a looped wire and handle. The loop was wide at the bottom, then indented sharply and became narrow.

“What’s this?” said Max.

“A buttonhook!” Preston exclaimed with glee. “I didn’t know these were around anymore!”

“What does it do?” said Nikki.

“It helps you fasten buttons,” Preston replied.

“Why would Edgar need a buttonhook?” said Max.

“What are you doing?”  Harrison had come back in, holding Edgar’s pinwheel. He grabbed the buttonhook, put it back in the bag and zipped up the backpack. “This is none of your business!”

“Why can’t he do up buttons like everyone else?” Max asked.

“He has dysgraphia,” Harrison answered angrily. “It means he has a hard time doing things like this.” He held up the unfinished pinwheel.

There was an awkward silence.

“What does he have trouble with?” Nerris asked cautiously.

“He didn’t look disabled to me,” said Neil.

“Just because you can’t see it or you’ve never seen it before doesn’t mean it isn’t real!” Harrison snapped. He sat at the table, folded Edgar’s pinwheel, then stormed out with the backpack.

Mr. Copperfield was filling up the Camp Campbell enrollment form on David’s desk. His wife watched over his shoulder and David stood aside.

“We want to be good to Harrison, we really do,” said Mr. Copperfield to David. “But his magic is beyond anything we’ve seen before and that we know how to cope with.”

“You must understand, we’re not trying to change him,” Mrs. Copperfield added. “We want to equip him with the right tools and give him the support he needs,” the mother added. “If you can tell us how to help him, we’d be very grateful.”

“Magic is only one part of this camp,” said David uncertainly.

“We know,” said Mr. Copperfield. “But Harrison is happy here, happier than he was at home. It’s the most positive environment we can give him.” The parents checked the form and gave it to David.

David read through it. “Everything seems to be in order!” His smile turned to confusion. “What’s … dysgraphia?”

“That was the next thing we wanted to discuss,” said Mr. Copperfield. “It’s a writing disability. Edgar also lacks fine motor control and has trouble with simple tasks. There may be some things he finds hard or impossible to do.”

“Please be patient with him,” said his wife. “He does try hard.”

“Of course,” said David. “I’ll be sure to let Gwen know.”

Disclaimer: I do not have dysgraphia, nor do I know anyone with dysgraphia. All my knowledge is from the internet. If you have any advice for how to properly write about the subject of disability, I welcome constructive feedback!

[ecofinisher]

The Adventures of Super Nathan 2 - Chap. 28

Chapter 28

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18224606/chapters/48362614

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13243294/28/Miraculous-The-Adventures-of-Super-Nathan-2

https://www.wattpad.com/776612508-miraculous-the-adventures-of-super-nathan-2-the

„Whoa!“ Adrien gasped as he was parried away by his opponent, landing on the ground, afterward he got stung by the sword of the opponent, which got herself a score.

„I won!“ The opponent announced lifting the mask off to revealed as Kagami Tsurugi. „You don‘t seem real fit today or is it my impression?“

„I still need energy for the photoshoot later in Bordeaux. I had already given my all in the basketball match this evening“ Adrien explained his girlfriend. „I promise the next fencing lesson, I try to be more worthy of you“

„Sure, sorry I didn‘t mean to be rude I just was wondering, why it was like that“

„It‘s alright, thank you, “ Adrien said taking his mask down. „Thank god, there is a shower, where I‘m going to do the photoshoot. My schedule today with the photoshoot is to tight, right when I‘m back home I have to get a quick snack and head to the airport“

„Your dad shouldn‘t put your photoshoots right after school like that, mostly when you‘re flying off to Bordeaux“ Kagami conceded placing her hand on his cheek. „You could use a longer break“

„The next photo shoot will be in December, but maybe on that day I won‘t have this problem again“ Mentioned Adrien earning a nod from the blue-haired girl. „Will you accompany me back home?“ Adrien asked seeing the girl smile, then he mirrored her facial expression back and the two head at the exit and down at the stairs, they saw the same fangirls from the other day talking with each other.

„Oh not these girls again“ Kagami grunted glaring down at the girls in annoyment, then the fangirls looked up and saw the couple.

„Hey Adrien!“ The girls greet in a chorus making Adrien drone in sadness as the girls had noticed him. Adrien passed along with Kagami by the girls, which watched him walking beside them without telling them a word. „Where are you going?“ A raven-haired girl asked watching the blonde go away.

„I‘m really busy girls. I‘ve got a photoshoot soon and I need to hurry“ Adrien responded walking at the sidewalk.

„Too bad your driver isn‘t here yet“ Kagami replied, then a blonde fangirl came between the two placing her hand on the lapel at the suit of Adrien near his neck.

„Hey is it true, that you don‘t wear a shirt under this?“ The girl asked trying to open the velcro fastener with her fingers, then Adrien gently grabbed her hand pulling it away from her.

„Hey, could you please take your hands off me and leave me and Kagami alone?“ The blonde asked making the girl chuckle.

„What if I don‘t do that?“ Asked the girl moving her hands up at his chest again, followed by Adrien furrowing his eyebrows annoyed, followed by Kagami pushing the hands of the girl down quickly.

„Did you hear him?“ Asked Kagami glaring at the girl. „Leave us!“ Kagami ordered then the blonde girl raised her hand up to slap on Kagami‘s face, shrieking Adrien.

„Hey!“ Shouted Adrien blocking the sight from the girl to Kagami. „Why did you do that? She‘s just helping me!“ Adrien hissed making the girl look surprised at him.

„She didn‘t do anything, the only thing she did was invade my private space!“ Shouted the blonde. „She grabbed my hands without my permission“

„You invaded his first. Stop being hypocritical, it‘s useless“ Kagami responded getting up on her feet, looking from above her boyfriend‘s shoulder.

„Girls, please listen to me. I‘ve told you enough of times no, when are you all going to understand that?“

„The day you realize, there are other girls worthy to be with you!“ The blonde responded making Kagami growl at the comment.

A car stopped on the road honking to caught all the teen‘s attention, then from the driver side Adrien‘s bodyguard came out running towards the girls, which got scared at the enormous size of the man‘s muscles and the girls got away from the sidewalk leaving the couple back with the bodyguard.

„You okay?“ The French boy asked helping the blue-haired girl up, which groaned annoyed. „Get in, “ Adrien told the girlfriend watching the bodyguard held the door open at the two while observing the location for any other trouble, then he closed the door as the two fencing students sat in the Sedan.

„This is incredible, how can you keep a cold head, when your fangirls treat you like this?“ Kagami blurted out irritated with the encounter of the Adrien fangirls.

„I didn‘t know, she was going to slap you. I thought she would just keep arguing with you“ The blonde mentioned disappointed of the occurrence.

„I‘m not talking about this. I‘m talking about how you talk to them. You have tried so many times to talk with them friendly and without any way to hurt their feelings, but this isn‘t working out, cause they keep trying to get closer to you or get me out of their way“

„I know I should be a little ruder with them the next time, I‘m just not very comfortable with trying to do it because that‘s not how I am“

„I know that Adrien, but you gotta act or the fangirls will never stop bothering as much as they‘re doing it now“

„Uh Kagami, one question….why do you always defend me from the fangirls?“ Adrien asked gazing down at his girlfriend.

„I‘m trying to help you, Adrien. I might get a little sassy or loud, but that‘s the only way to make them listen“

„You‘ve done that, but they still didn‘t care, how will it make a difference if I try it?“

„Because they‘re your fans and if you flatly tell them, you‘re not interested, they start to respect your choice,“ Kagami explained.

„But, what if they start to dislike me, because of how I act towards them?“

„Adrien…..“ Kagami said covering her face starting to get bugged from the conversation. „It‘s for your own good“

„How do you know exactly, that‘s it‘s good“ Adrien questioned a little bothered about Kagami‘s reaction. „That‘s not great at all“

„Have you got a better idea?“

„I don‘t have any, but why don‘t you ignore the girls, that gather around me to speak to me?“ Adrien asked. „I think the last times we stuck in a fangirl mayhem was because you had talked at them to make them stop“

„You‘re not blaming me for them, aren‘t you?“ The Japanese asked raising her left eyebrow up as the boy had mentioned her for that case.

„If we see it the other way around, most of the girls got irritated, because you came in the way of them“ Adrien pointed out, making the blue-haired girl open her mouth wide at his accusation.

„You‘ve got to be kidding me, Adrien. The only thing I did was trying to help you out of it, not causing any drama on purpose,“

„What did you expect, they would just be cool with that?“

„My only hope was, that they would just move on and not keep seeing me as an obstacle in their lives“

„Maybe you could ignore them instead“ Adrien suggested Kagami, making her groan loud.

„Adrien for god's sake, why don‘t you try to finally find the guts to tell them directly to mind their own business instead of letting them ruin your relationship with me!“ Kagami snapped shrieking Adrien at her sudden loss of temper.

„I….uh….“ Adrien started to talk but stopped leaning back on his seat, watching Kagami cross her arms and avoid eye contact with the boyfriend, which sighed. „Kagami listen…“ Adrien began, then saw the car had stopped in the entrance of the Agreste manor, where he saw his father stand there along with his mother.

Gabriel Agreste walked at the side, where Kagami sat and opened the door, then gazed surprised at the girl, which was looking angry and Adrien sat behind her looking disappointed.

„Is everything okay?“ Asked Mr. Agreste watching Kagami unlock the seatbelt of her and pull it back to the pillar of the car.

„Kagami, let‘s discuss this better…..Please“ Adrien asked sadly watching Kagami get out of the car, passing under the arm of Mr. Agreste, which observed the girl walk beside Emilie, which noted the Japanese student to look annoyed with the son of the actress.

Gabriel entered into the car, seeing the son with a tragic face, then placed his hand on his shoulder.

„Was it an argument?“ The man with the glasses asked earning a nod from the blonde boy. „Give her some time and talk with her later about it“

„I think it‘s better“ Adrien agreed. „I think I didn‘t say the right words“

„What was the fight about?“

„The fangirls….“ Adrien responded.

„Again...“ Gabriel asked earning a nod from the blonde, then he kept caressing the boy on the shoulder as they sat inside the car, which was been taxed out of the front entrance of the manor back to the streets.

Emilie Agreste watched the silver-colored car leave and looked back at the stairs, where Kagami stood doing the same as her afterward the blonde walked the stairs up, gazing down at the face of Kagami, which looked remorseful at observing the vehicle after the left.

„Come, follow me. I‘m going to get you a tea“ Emilie said placing her hands on Kagami‘s shoulder, making the girl look up at the mother of the boyfriend, then nodded and looked forward again at the door.

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Military Jackets: How to Choose and Style the Right One for You

fyi: This article may contain affiliate links (details)

Military-inspired menswear has always been prevalent in the fashion scene. Take one look at current style trends – it’s having yet another moment in the spotlight.

In that spirit, let’s explore the most iconic pieces – including military jackets.

Editor’s note: While we go through each style, we will also provide you with a range of models to choose from. Ones that are more “OG”, some a modern take on the original, and of course, “grail” pieces (ones you may need to spend a bit more on). Enjoy!

Field Jackets

Before we go too far, a little background on the numbers you see attached to these field jackets. Rather than a random product number, this number actually refers to the year that specific garment became standard issue.

In this first case, ‘M-51’ indicates that the style was released in 1951. Simple enough!

The M-51 Field Jacket

The M-51, along with the M-65 (discussed next) is what most likely comes to mind when you think of classic men’s military jacket. It’s iconic, and for good reason.

Made from a midweight canvas, the M-51 is most commonly found in olive green. Its shirt-jacket style collar lends itself to more casual settings than the M-65.

The M-51 is usually seen sans hood, although one was included, which buttoned on to the jacket collar. You’ll notice other details like:

4 pouch pockets

Removable liner

Snap closure

Button cuffs

The OG

While a lot of the M- issued military jackets are still made by Alpha Industries, they don’t carry the M-51. You’ll have to scour vintage stores or eBay to find something truly authentic.

The Modern Take

J. Crew Cotton Field Jacket Price: $150 Buy Now

This interpretation of the M-51 by J. Crew keeps the vintage look of the original military jacket, but with a trimmed down fit, cotton fabric, and a few stylish details.

The Grail

Mr. P Field Jacket Price: $525 Buy Now

I’m not sure if there is one go-to ‘splurge’ for an M-51. But if you’re going for high-fashion, look no further than this version from Mr. Porter.

The M-65 Field Jacket

The M-65 was created as an upgrade to the M-51 field jacket. It keeps many of the same characteristics, but with a few key changes.

The color is usually classic ‘army’ olive green and it comes with four pouch pockets.

Apart from the hood, big changes were made to the collar. It became a stand collar rather than a pointed shirt collar. The button cuffs and collar closures were replaced with velcro fasteners.

As indicated by the name, the M-65 was released in 1965 and then widely used by American troops through the Vietnam war.

Over the years, the M-65 army jacket has been featured on the backs of pop culture icons, the most memorable of which was Robert DeNiro as Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver.

The OG

Alpha M-65 Field Coat Price: $225 Buy Now

The original supplier of a wide variety of U.S. military gear, Alpha Industries, is still pumping these bad boys out for the general public today (now offered in both a slim and standard fit).

The Modern Take

J. Crew Field Mechanic Jacket Price: $198 Buy Now

Even the Alpha Industries ‘slim fit’ version tends to be oversized. If you want something truly slim and modern, the J.Crew version is the way to go.

The Grail

Belstaff Roadmaster Price: $795 Buy Now

This black waxed cotton version from Belstaff does not disappoint. They’ve done some incredible work transforming vintage military jackets into edgy “rock star” pieces.

Flight Jackets

Alright, quick disclaimer: While I had that fun fact regarding the numbering on field jackets, the numbering (and lettering) on flight jackets remains a bit of a mystery to me.

If I have any enlisted readers or military enthusiasts, please feel free to fill me in via the comments!

Regardless, flight jackets are some of my favorite military jackets. And lucky me, they’re definitely having a moment in modern men’s fashion.

A-2 Flight Jacket

While there was an A-1 predecessor, many consider the A-2 to be the definitive style of American flight jacket.

Introduced as standard issue to Air Force pilots in 1931, this jacket was originally very hard to come by for any non-air crewmen. As such, it was worn with intense pride by pilots. They would often add patches and other embellishments to signify accomplishments, camaraderie, and rank.

After being discontinued in 1943 in favor of newer cloth-shell jackets, the style became popular among the general public. Still, truly accurate replicas or vintage originals are rare and expensive.

The jacket itself is distinguished by a leather shell with a lightweight silk or cotton lining, a shirting-style collar, and knitted ribbing at the cuffs and waist.

Additionally, they have a flap pocket on either side of the chest. But no hand-warmer pockets – they were considered too undisciplined for military personnel. Today, these details vary model-to-model, but the silhouette remains a winning classic amongst military jackets.

The OG

Rough Wear A-2 Flight Jacket Price: £1,099 Buy Now

One of the original manufacturers, Rough Wear, can still be found at a few outlets like British suppliers Eastman Leathers.

The Modern Take

All Saints Aviator Coat Price: $585 Buy Now

The shearling collar stands out as a modern touch to this All Saints jacket that’s otherwise steeped in the original style.

The Grail

Our Legacy Shearling Bomber Jacket Price: $1,700 Buy Now

This impressive jacket by Our Legacy has the luxurious details it takes to stand out – and it’s built to last.

MA-1 Bomber

The MA-1 Bomber is another iconic military style jacket that you’re sure to recognize and see everywhere.

The MA-1 was originally created as a response to the development of jet aircraft. Since they flew higher and faster, they subjected pilots to colder conditions. The MA-1 wouldn’t freeze if it got wet like previous leather iterations (like the A-2).

Additionally, the new jet cockpits were much smaller. Previous men’s military jacket styles were too bulky and stiff to be comfortably mobile.

After replacing the leather with a nylon or polyester shell, the MA-1 was cut waist-length with the same knit ribbing around the cuffs and waist. Instead of a shirting style collar, the MA-1 utilizes more knit ribbing around the neck. And it includes hand-warmer pockets along with a signature pocket along the bicep of one sleeve.

Popular in civilian fashion since the 70’s, the MA-1 bomber military jacket has seen a resurgence thanks to it’s heavy use by high fashion designer Helmut Lang. And – more recently – it’s been adopted into street style by celebrities like Kanye West and A$AP Rocky.

The OG

Alpha M-1 Flight Jacket Price: $150 Buy Now

The classic by Alpha Industries is still going strong today.

The Modern Take

Schott NYCA MA-1 Flight Jacket Price: $155 Buy Now

Like all things leather, Schott makes some of the best – and they’re cheaper than finding something vintage.

The Grail

Rag & Bone Manston Nylon Bomber Jacket Price: $595 Buy Now

This jacket from Rag & Bone gets it right – the balance between OG and modern, the sleek look, and the classic details.

Naval Coats

The Duffle Coat

The term ‘Duffle Coat’ has come to indicate a distinct style. But the name originally referred to the specific type of fabric used, a thick wool developed in Duffel, Belgium.

Now you can find duffle coats made from a wide variety of fabrics – though usually still wool-based. And the defining characteristics have become the toggle closures. They’re fashioned from wood or horn fastened to rope or leather loops. Most duffle coats are hooded, thigh-length and feature a more boxy fit.

The OG

Gloverall Monty Duffle Coat Price: £450 Buy Now

Originally a British creation, Gloverall took up production after acquiring a boat-load of surplus originals issued to the British Royal Navy during WWI and WWII – and they continue to make one of the best models out there.

The Modern Take

Uniqlo Wool-Blend Duffle Coat Price: $129 Buy Now

Japanese brand Uniqlo took the Gloverall original, clipped the sides, replaced the wood and rope closures with horn and leather, and gave it a price that is much easier on the wallet.

The Grail

For the duffle coat, it’s all about the OG version! Doesn’t get better than the original, in my humble opinion.

The Pea Coat

Like the duffle coat, the pea coat is a staple of naval wear. It originated within the British Royal Navy and was later adapted by their American counterparts. Mentions of the garment appeared in American newspapers as early as the 1720’s.

The pea coat is crafted from similar (if not identical) fabric and designed for the same function as the duffle coat. So the differences lie in the details.

Pea coats are characterized by a double-breasted closure, with broad lapels and shorter length. Knee-length options do exist – they’re usually referred to as an ‘officer’s coat’, named for their use in the uniforms of high-ranking naval officials.

As for the origin of the name, opinions differ. Many attribute it to an abbreviation of ‘Pilot-Cloth’ (which pea coats were often made of in their early forms) to ‘P-Cloth’ and then to ‘P-Coat.’

The OG

Sterlingwear of Boston Authentic Peacoat Price: $295 Buy Now

Today, Sterlingwear of Boston is the official supplier of pea coats to American naval forces.

The Modern Take

Ok, this is a cop out, but the pea coat can be found at practically every modern menswear brand, from J.Crew to Bonobos to Club Monaco and everyone in between.

The Grail

Todd Snyder + Private White Manchester Pea Coat Price: $895 Buy Now

For something more ‘lux’, look no further than this version from Todd Snyder + Private White V.C. and embellished with a swaggy fur collar.

The Crew Coat

The N-3B Snorkel Parka

This one goes to show you: You never know it all!

Here I was, thinking that the N-3B parka discussed below had to be either a ground troop or maybe even a naval issue. But my research into military jackets proved me wrong.

The snorkel parka was intended for flight crews. Those were the folks manning the runways in frigid weather.

The N-3B Parka is characterized by a ¾ length (at mid-thigh), a weatherproof shell, and an insulating liner. Originally, the shell was nylon with a wool liner. Later iterations moved to a cotton/nylon blend shell and a padded polyester lining that’s warmer and lighter weight.

The truly defining characteristic is the hood. It’s fully attached with a high collar closure – when fully closed, the hood leaves only a small tunnel or ‘snorkel’ for the wearer to see out of. This, along with a fur lining (real fur on the vintage and quality modern versions) make this military jacket a real weapon against the cold.

The OG

Alpha N-3B Parka Price: $200 Buy Now

Again, Alpha Industries takes the cake as the original military supplier.

The Modern Take

J. Crew Parka Price: $400 Buy Now

Water resistant, lightly insulated, and warm, this J. Crew parka is both stylish and functional for the cold, wet weather.

The Grail

Parajumpers Right Hand Waterproof Jacket Price: $1,125 Buy Now

I love that this Parajumpers parka is built for warmth on the coldest of days but can still turn heads on city streets thanks to its grail worthy touches – like that coyote fur trim.

So, which military jacket do I get?

First, consider the temperature. All of the military jackets above give pretty decent protection from the elements. But there’s variation in how that protection is provided. The best way to think about it is to look at who they were originally intended for.

Field jackets were given to ground troops of all types – they’re the most versatile style.

In civilian life, I’d stick to these for transitional seasons and milder climates. They’ll be generally wind and water resistant, with a medium level of insulation. That makes these military jackets great for a Northeastern fall day. Or for year-round use in a city like San Francisco. But probably not the best pick for surviving a Chicago blizzard.

Flight jackets tend to offer more insulation since they are meant to withstand the pretty-darn-cold temps inside the cabins of airborne fighter jets.

That said, they are also cropped. That’s useful for pilots – it doesn’t get in the way of the seating positions and allows more in-flight mobility. But it’s also less useful for keeping your legs and butt warm and dry.

For that reason, I’d be more likely to opt for a flight jacket if I’m living in a car-prevalent city, rather than one where I’m doing a lot of walking.

Naval jackets, designed for nautical use, are the warmest of the bunch here.

Pea coats and duffle coats are often made from Melton Wool, a thick fabric known for its durability, wind resistance, and water resistance. Parkas typically combine a protective shell with a decent amount of toasty-warm down filling.

Duffle coats and parkas really take the cake over pea coats, if only for the inclusion of a hood.

Along with that, you’ll want to consider your personal style.

How to Wear and Style Military Jackets

While every coat and jacket listed here comes from a military background, they each have a distinct style.

Field coats, while issued in large quantities to new recruits, come across as more rebellious than regimental. Over the years, they’ve been worn just as notably by military and counterculture representatives.

Bomber jackets carry some rock-star ‘cool’ edge. Leather iterations bringing to mind bad-boys on motorcycles. And thanks to Kanye West (an influential style icon, regardless of your personal feelings about him) the nylon MA-1 bomber has become a favorite of the hip-hop crowd.

Pea coats and duffle coats are associated with a classic nautical style. Their adoption by ivy-leaguers has given the coats a preppy reputation. These wool pieces lend themselves to more formal looks as they resemble a traditional topcoat.

A parka has a rugged, outdoorsy feel to it that says ‘I can survive anything’ – and means it. They’re often worn with flannels and sturdy pants. But the fashion-forward crowd has started rocking them over suits to great success.

Tell me

Do you have a military style jacket in your wardrobe? Which one of the above is your favorite?

clothing cold weather outerwear

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