#celebrity interviews. Venom

[hollywoodoutbreak]

Tom Hardy wasn't just the star of Venom: The Last Dance, he was also a co-writer! Teaming up with director Kelly Marcel, Hardy made sure the film delivered an action-packed spectacle that pushed the stunt team to their limits. Hear Hardy and Marcel discuss the challenges of bringing their vision to life!

Venom: The Last Dance is now playing in theaters.

[willowsnook]

hi! could i get a scotch with lime in a copper mug? 💞✨

lando norris x mclarenrookie!reader

just shut up and come here

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With Max’s car starting to falter, Lando knew he had a real shot at competing for the WDC. As the season progressed, he’d become the favorite, and it finally felt like his time. There was just one problem: you.

In your rookie year in F1, you were holding third place, just 40 points behind Lando. Exceeding all the team's expectations, you’d proven to be a real competitor — and Lando wasn’t pleased. To him, the strategy should have been obvious: you were supposed to help him beat Max. But you saw it differently. After all, you were only 80 points behind the leader, and Zak and Andrea had decided to let things play out between the two of you, which only heightened the tension.

What started as a friendship had quickly soured after you overtook Lando to win in Hungary. Furious, he stormed into your driver’s room after the podium celebration, his eyes blazing.

“What the hell was that?” he snapped, voice sharp.

You didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze. “A clean overtake,” you replied coolly.

“You’re screwing up my chances at the championship!” he seethed, his tone bitter.

"You do realize that I also have a shot at it?" You questioned. "Not my fault that I'm faster than you either."

At that, he got in your face, practically radiating anger. “Just stay out of my way,” he bit out before stalking out of the room.

It was the first of many heated clashes, and even Zak was starting to worry about the tension between his drivers. Things only escalated after your win in Baku, when Lando stood stony-faced on the podium, arms crossed, barely acknowledging the celebration. The media had a field day, and McLaren’s PR department wasn’t happy.

Seeing his growing frustration, your initial resentment slowly turned to concern. His behavior was spiraling, and it seemed no one was willing to address it — except you.

“What’s going on with you?” you demanded one day after a rough qualifying session, pushing open his door to find him pacing.

“What are you talking about?” he snapped, but you didn’t back down.

“You’re being a brat to everyone! It was fine when you were just an asshole to me, but this is getting out of hand.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied venomously.

“If you need someone to talk to, you know McLaren has plenty of resources,” you said softly, trying a different approach.

“I don’t need your help so just fuck off,” he said and you backed off.

That didn’t stop you from giving your own therapist his email, instructing her to email him nonstop until he set up a session. Something must have worked because in the break before Austin, Lando did some press about his struggles with mental health and you heard that he’d bought gifts for the whole garage team as an apology for his behavior.

You two still didn’t really talk but he gave you a head nod now as a hello and there wasn’t much tension between you in front of the media anymore.

Then, on the Thursday before the Austin GP, during your post-free-practice interviews, a reporter brought up Lando.

“Y/N, any thoughts on Helmut’s recent comments?” they asked.

You raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, I don’t keep track of what everyone’s saying.”

“He claimed that Lando has ‘mental weaknesses’ preventing him from being a real championship contender.”

You stiffened, feeling anger bubble up. “Yeah, interesting,” you started, your PR manager nodding, likely expecting you to stay professional. Too bad for them. “Honestly, he can go fuck off.”

The press buzzed with shock, and your PR manager hurried over, but you went on.

“Red Bull’s looking for anything to distract from their own mess. It’s 2024, and criticizing a driver for being open about mental health is pathetic. We’d all be a little better off if they put him in a nursing home Lando’s one of the most talented drivers out there, so Helmut can shove it. Thanks.”

You walked off, ignoring your PR manager’s frantic scolding.

Later, after the team debrief, you headed to your room, ready to call it a day. But outside your door, you saw Lando waiting, his expression softer than usual.

“Are you okay—?” you began, but he cut you off, stepping forward.

“Just shut up and come here,” he murmured, pulling you into a hug. You rubbed his back as he buried his head against your shoulder, his voice muffled. “I owe you so much. And after what you said today… even more.”

“This stuff is hard, Lando. Sometimes it feels like the whole world’s on our shoulders.” You pulled back to meet his gaze. “I like it better when you’ve got the energy to actually fight me.”

He laughed softly, then hugged you tighter. “Can we… start over? As friends?” he asked, his voice tentative.

You smiled. “Of course — but only after I win the championship.”

He groaned, but his eyes sparkled with humor. “In your dreams, rookie.”

[toast-on-dandelioms]

__Just Another Neglected Story__

Years passed and you were now 16, almost mute but with a few friends from school, the only place where no one knew you were a Wayne since you refused to take his surname.

This is the part 2 of this

You wanted your mother's surname, you refused to let go of that small part that you still had of her. You refused to let go of that and be replaced by a surname from a person that hated you.

You still had some dignity.

You were happy, you finally had your small place where no one could ruin it and you didn't even care that your supposed family didn't even know who you were.

But everything changed when you went to that damn interview to a scientist lab in a big corporation, you needed money for yourself and knowledge to better your inventions and the corporation you went to was better than any Wayne industry.

You were accepted obviously and after a few months you were on a good position as a part timer and helped with experiments with rats and spiders.

What those experiments were? You didn't know and honestly from what you saw when you were allowed to spectate an experiment in process, the animals almost never died and if they did then they would be honored with a small photo on a wall, to thank them for their help.

You were taking a few subjects to their enclosures and while letting a spider inside its little cage, the little legs of it running down your hand and making you shiver a bit but you did a mistake that all your superiors told uou to never make.

You accidentally moved while trying not to drop another animal that was on the table since it kept moving closer to the edge, scaring the spider and making you get bit by it in the process, the sting of the bite making you almost fall down but not before putting the spider in its cage and closing it.

Then you allowed yourself to fall down and hold the injured hand on the chest as you held back the tears by biting your lips and repeating a mantra you had so that you wouldn't seem weak.

You stayed on the ground for a few minutes, waiting for the sting on your hand to stop hurting so much.

You did notice the spider was a venomous one but that only paralyzed the prey making you scared, not wanting to be found paralyzed and get fired after making a stupid mistake.

You kept on reading the file and thanked whatever god was out there that the venom wasn't strong enough to paralyze a human but just making them a bit dizzy, explaining why you felt so dizzy like you drank five bottles of beer.

You finally got up after the bite stopped stinging and pulsing, making you wobble a bit and check the reports about the spider but it didn't said anything about any experiments made on the animal but you were a bit suspicious about it.

You went to the small lab you shared with a few other interns, starting a few tests on yourself to make sure you wouldn't die or have something horrible happen to your body because of some weird mutation.

You checked every test you ran on yourself, making sure to not have missed anything but it didn't showed any changes so you decided to wait until the new day to see if it was a delayed response from the bite.

You decided to go back to the Manor since it's been days and you couldn't sleep at another friend house again, not wanting to bother them with your 'family' problems.

You managed to get there safely enough by taking the bus, entering silently by the front door and just passing by the kitchen while ignoring the loud noises from the dining hall, knowing that they're probably celebrating something and didn't even try to invite you.

You finally arrive to your room, smiling softly at the plate on your desk filled with food and silently thanking Alfred in your mind since you just realised you didn't eat much that day.

You quickly sit down and eat everything with a big smile, making sure to clean the plate and leaving it on a table next to your door outside of your room to thank Alfred, not wanting to do the trip to the kitchen and risk being seen and seeing all of them look at you with confusion as to why you were there.

Like they didn't even remember that you lived there and were surprised that you were there. You hated whenever they looked at you like that.

You finally plop down in bed, face first and fall asleep in a few seconds, not even bothering to change or take a shower since you were exhausted.

You woke up the next day and as you got up you noticed that something changed in your body.

Not something noticeable like a new set of eyes or a new pair of arms like Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, but you felt more flexible.

Like, you were already pretty good at moving your body thanks to the dance lessons you used to take but now you could move your body in positions you never thought were possible.

Your eyesight was also incredibly better and more enhanced, like you could see from pretty far away without having to squint to see it.

You immediately thought of the spider and its bite so you checked the wound but there was nothing, just two small moles (the small black spots) where the bite was supposed to be.

You quickly went to school, deciding to do a few more tests when you would get to the lab to make sure you didn't have anything dangerous in your body.

The day seemed more slow than usual, making you skip school just after an hour in there and quickly go to the corporation you worked at, using the excuse that school was closed because of a sudden villain attack.

No one even questioned it, they just let you in and went on with their day, not even bothering to check since you were in Gotham so that was normal.

You quickly walked to your lab, immediately starting a few more tests on yourself and sighing in defeat when all the results were the same.

Your blood was mixed with the spider on and you were now half spider. You sighed and worked before clocking in early, slowly going to an abandoned park to check what you now had to just learn to live with it.

You ran a few tests on the field, wanting to see what you now had with the DNA of the spider in your body.

You already checked the sight and flexible factor in a small notebook, adding super strenght, weirdly precise reflexes that also helped you when you were in danger.

You just now needed to see if you could walk on walls like spiders, really hoping you could since you wanted to see how that felt like.

You walked up to a deserted building and took off your shoes and socks before setting one foot on the wall, noticing that you couldn't really take it off.

You tried with the other foot and now you were standing sideways on the wall, making you laugh in glee since it was so freaking cool.

You quickly ran around the building walls before getting to the roof and sitting down on the edge since you were tired.

You thought to yourself to just live with these newfound powers, if you can call them that but then noticed many people walking around and being scared.

You noticed how, even though Batman and everyone else kept the streets clean from super villains, small time thieves and other bad people still ran around even after being caught and brought to jail.

You knew you weren't strong enough before but you now had a small advantage over them and decided to help people, make the streets a bit cleaner.

You would never go and fight big villains but small ones were easy so you quickly went to the manor to start your training, wanting to help others.

You first started by creating the costume, making sure to hide your face pretty well since you refused to let anyone know who you were, even though you were a nobody that not even the media knew about.

You then started to create your own vigilante, giving yourself the name of 'Spider', like the hero Spider-Man from the comics you used to read.

Hey, you got bit by a spider and decided to follow that theme, no judgement on that.

You created the web fuel and used a grappling hook that was lying around to create a web shooter, making sure to make it hidden on your wrists.

Then you started to train in the abandoned park that no one ever walked by, using the trees around it and the buildings as a way to learn how to swing around.

You also learned how to fight by spying your "family", recording how they fought and their weak and strong points to also learn from it.

In 2 months you officially became 'Spider', the new spider vigilante that helped the people from small thieves so no one had to be scared to walk on the streets.

You also used a taser if you couldn't fight against someone stronger and you didn't want to kill them with your super strenght, and the taser was the best move.

You didn't even notice but you started to become famous amongst the city, especially after helping a bus from falling off a brige and stopping a well known rapist after the police did nothing.

You just kept going, happy to help and thinking no one even noticed, not noticing that your "family" also started to notice the new vigilante and was starting to ask questions about who it was behind the mask.

But their curiosity may never be satisfied.

Tag List

@victoria1676 @cattioo @gaozorous-rex-blog @mylittlediarys-stuff @simpingfor-wakasa @mamapucket

[dirtyvulture]

Envy and Venom

Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.

Word count: 4190

AN: Randomly came up with this idea, it's a little different than my other stuff, but give it a read. :)

DAY 1

“You couldn’t have picked a better person for the job,” you tease, gripping tightly onto your father’s hand as the sea of flashing lights fifteen feet away practically blinds you. The reporters call out for your attention but you ignore them, pausing in the awkward, hand-holding pose with your father so the photo can be plastered across the front page of news outlets around the world. 

“I trust you. Don’t ruin what I’ve started,” your father says, grabbing onto your shoulder and pulling you into a tight embrace. “And please try to keep your…escapades…a little more under wraps, okay?” he whispers into your ear. 

“I’ll try, Dad,” you say, but it isn’t really your fault that the public was so interested in what goes on in your bedroom. Then again, you hadn’t exactly been trying to be subtle when you were fucking your secretary against the penthouse window of your apartment, but people should try to mind their own business more. 

Your father pushes you back and the two of you turn in unison to wave at the crowd once more. 

“Congratulations!” you hear them echoing. “To Envy Industries’ new CEO, Y/N!”

***********************************************************************

Naturally, to celebrate your latest achievement, you host the party of the century, inviting other world-renowned millionaires, fellow tech company gurus, actors, singers, celebrities, and pretty much anyone else who fit society’s thinly-veiled description of “famous.” You initially show up with two models you had already spent the afternoon with, but you weren’t interested in stringing them along and were excited to find some new target to chase after. 

The first hour alone is spent wading through faces you recognize from online but have no personal connection with, and you have to pretend that you’re grateful when they take enough interest and ask about the future of your company. 

“We’ll probably stick to the production of GPUs for a while,” you say, yelling to be heard over the music and rumble of people. “We just signed a huge contract with Tesla, so we’ll be supplying all the hardware they need for their next products. They have a big need for AI software, and we’re one of the few companies that can build exactly what they need.”

“Wow, that’s very impressive.” The short-haired blonde woman suddenly throws herself at you, her nails digging into your bicep so hard you can feel the prick through your burgundy silk jacket.

“Thank you.” You’re not sure you’ve ever seen this woman before in your life and you wonder if she even understood half of what you were saying or she was just trying to get into your pants.

“I’m Carol, by the way. Do you want to get a drink?”

“I would never say no to a drink.” You let Carol lead you to the bar (that you are footing the bill for) and she orders for you, picking an old-fashioned cocktail for you. A decent choice, but if she had read your interview in The Chief Executive Magazine, she would have known that your favorite drink was actually a vodka martini. You join her at an empty table.

“So, what do you do for a living?” you ask out of politeness, taking a sip and letting the whiskey burn your throat.  

“I’m an influencer,” Carol says. “I have one-point-seven million followers on Tik Tok right now. I mostly post fitness routines or travel vlogs. And I also stream video games on Twitch.”

“Ah.” Now it’s your turn to act like you’re impressed when you have no idea what she’s talking about. 

Carol drones on about her next project, which involves a collaboration with another influencer you’ve never heard of. Your eyes scan the people walking by, looking for a new object of infatuation. It doesn’t take long until you make eye contact with a beautiful, redheaded woman, her voluptuous body hugged by an emerald green dress. Immediately, your heart rate spikes as you scan her up and down, not predatorily, but admiringly. The neckline of her dress plunges down to her belly button, a tasteful hint of her cleavage showing through, highlighted by a long  silver necklace with a thin gold bar tassel. 

You perk up, smoothing your hair back and puffing out your chest like a proud pigeon when she starts walking over.

“Congratulations,” the redhead says. “Your family must be very proud of you.”

“My dad didn’t want to give it to me,” you admit, completely oblivious to Carol’s pout as you instantly give your attention to this new woman. “But I convinced him the company would be in good hands.”

“I bet.”

“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, desperate to keep around for the conversation (and perhaps more).

“I should be the one treating you,” the redhead says. She takes the cocktail out of your hands and brings it to her lips. “Hmm. I didn’t think this was your taste,” she notes. “How does a vodka martini sound?”

You know instantly this is the woman you’re taking home with you tonight. “That sounds delightful.”

***********************************************************************

You ditch Carol without a second thought and follow the redhead back to the bar, where she picks up two vodka martinis. She brings you to a private booth, sitting so close to you that your knees are touching hers. You can almost feel her body heat through the fabric of your clothes. 

“To Envy Industries’ long and prosperous future,” she says, raising her drink in a toast.

“Cheers.” You clink your glass to hers and drink half of it in one long sip, smiling in satisfaction. “I didn’t catch your name,” you say.

“Natasha.” It sparks a familiar memory, a name you’ve heard before. But she’s so intoxicating that you give it no second thought. Natasha is one of the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen in your life and you can’t believe she’s sitting here talking to you and you alone.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, formally offering her your hand. She shakes it, and you gently bring her hand up to your lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Likewise,” she says, crossing one perfectly toned leg over the other, her foot nudging the back of your calf. “Not to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention a contract with Tesla. Say what you want about that company, but you can’t deny the evidence that they’re one of the highest valued companies in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if Envy Industries is soon up there with them.”

“Exactly.” Your interest in this woman skyrockets, because you know she isn’t bullshitting you. She isn’t like Carol. She knows what she’s talking about. 

“We’ve been trying to strike deals with the automotive industry for years,” Natasha goes on, “But you’ve beat us to it. And now that you’ve partnered up with Tesla, you’re basically unstoppable.”

“Not quite,” you correct, now unable to stop yourself from unraveling the schemes of your company’s next five years. “Our research on artificial intelligence is just getting started. We just applied for ten new patents within computing technologies and we’re on track to absolutely dominate the market for discrete graphics processing units by the end of the year.” 

Natasha grins at your enthusiasm and you feel yourself blush in embarrassment. You know the media often labeled you as stupid, reckless, irresponsible, unfit to lead, and constantly bashed your sexual appetite, but you were all those things and a technology genius. Your father had built this company from the ground up, but you had been there alongside him the past six years. While everyone classified your promotion to CEO as nepotism, you felt you had rightfully earned it. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” she comments.

“Well, it definitely wouldn’t be wise for the new CEO to be giving away all the secrets, now would it?” you chuckle, even though you’ve definitely already said more than you should’ve. 

“Your success is no trade secret.” Natasha turns her whole body to face you. The attention she’s giving you is almost more than you can bear. Your heart pounds against your chest. No woman has ever made you this excited before. “But if you want, maybe we can go somewhere a little more private, where you can share whatever else you’d like.”

“Hmm.” It was rare for another woman to be so bold with you. But you’ve never lusted after another woman like Natasha before. Arousal heats up in your stomach as Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on your thigh and squeezing it teasingly. Her breath fans over your face and you can smell the vodka and her cherry lipstick. You lean forward to meet her, moving like you’re in a dream, fireworks sparking in the back of your head the moment your lips touch. 

Suddenly, you’re overcome with the carnal desire to drag this woman up to your penthouse and have her squirming underneath you, crying out your name as she comes undone.

“Um, would you like to…” You can hardly think straight. “My room…apartment…is upstairs…if you want to…”

“Show me the way,” Natasha says, standing up and offering you her hand.

***********************************************************************

Your brain is swirling in a fog as you follow Natasha to the elevator. You don’t even register any of the people you pass, fully aware of the fact that someone will report this headline to the National Enquirer, at the very least. But all the worries of the future disappear the moment the elevator doors close and Natasha throws herself at you, her legs hooking around your narrow waist and her heels digging into the small of your back. Your hands support her supple bottom, squeezing in appreciation as her lips crash against yours in a desperate frenzy. 

You stumble into the wall, smashing your hand onto the top floor button and feeling the elevator start to rise, but not fast enough. 

“Lucky me,” Natasha pants between kisses. “Getting to go home with the newly-christened CEO of Envy Industries.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight,” you respond, heat rising between your legs. “Of course you were coming home with me.”

Natasha glows with the praise and pulls your head into her chest, where you instinctively lick and nip at the flesh of her exposed breasts and she keens at the attention. When the elevator doors open again, you stumble out with her still in your arms, your feet automatically taking you down the path to your apartment. Thankfully, your apartment door opens automatically when your key card is in range, so you’re able to kick it open with your foot, without having to put her down.   

You carry her straight to the bedroom, dropping her on the freshly-changed sheets you had housekeeping put on after you were done with the two models from earlier. You can hardly remember your time with them and your body is practically vibrating in anticipation like you haven’t had sex in years. You crawl on top of Natasha, lowering yourself to kiss her again, this time with more passion and her arms snake over your broad back, pressing your body against hers.  

“I need to get you out of this dress,” you pant, desperate for skin-to-skin contact with her. 

“You first,” she says, releasing you as you sit up, yanking off your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You’re annoyed at your choice of shirt, a white button-up that has way too many buttons, as you impatiently pop them off one at a time and remove your bra. Natasha watches you with hunger in her eyes and you’ve never felt more proud to reveal yourself to another partner. The daily, painful 2-hour visits to the gym and strict adherence to a customized diet showed in your chiseled physique, your biceps bulging like you had baseballs under your skin, your perfect washboard abs, and your thighs were sturdier than tree trunks. 

“Fuck,” she mutters, reaching up to run her hand across your abs like she can’t believe you’re really in front of her. “I could look at you all day.”

It’s a common reaction most people have, but it definitely heats you up more when it comes from Natasha. “Your turn, gorgeous.” 

She sits up and turns around so you can access the zipper of her dress. You sweep her hair to the side, stealing a kiss to her neck because you really can’t help yourself. Natasha hums in appreciation and you lower her zipper slowly. Her dress pools at her waist like a glimmering green puddle. She isn’t wearing a bra so your hands immediately gravitate to cup her breasts, and she arches her back against your bare chest. 

“Are you gonna fuck me the same way you do to every girl you have in here?” she asks, placing one of her hands over yours and guiding it down her stomach, where your fingers part through her soaking folds. 

“If you want me to,” you say, pressing deeper into her and she whines at your touch. “But I’ll give you whatever you want.” Normally, you enjoy being in full control in the bedroom, but you are absolutely willing to give that up if it pleases Natasha. 

She suddenly pushes your hand away from her center; you can still feel traces of her stickiness on your fingers. “Do you have a strap? I want to ride you.”

Your stomach flips at the thought of her on top of you, grinding down on you until she finishes. Her heaving bosom in your face for you to suck and kiss while she enjoys the orgasm you gave her. 

“Yeah, let me grab it.” While you launch yourself off the bed to go fishing around your nightstand drawer, Natasha nudges her dress to the floor and delicately removes her long necklace, settling back comfortably on your king-sized bed while she waits for you. You take off your pants and pull the harness over your waist, turning back to the mouth-watering sight of her naked and ready for your taking. Her body is toned and curved in all the right places: clearly, she respected her body as much as you did to yours. There are few things you love more than a woman who takes care of herself.

You climb back onto the bed and Natasha pounces on you while you’re still getting into position, holding onto your biceps to pin you down. You catch sight of her glimmering wetness as she drags herself along your abs, pressing back against your cock until it rubs against her butt. You reach over to grab the bottle of lube always present on your nightstand and squirt a generous glob onto your strap, not that it looks like Natasha will need it. 

“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?” you tease, your hands running up and down her sides. Natasha takes you by surprise when she shoves you back against the headboard.  

“Shut up and let me fuck you,” she growls, her voice dangerously dropping an octave. Natasha lifts herself up to line herself with the head of your cock and slides down in one move. The slick noise as it fills her is downright sinful. Your big hands wrap around her tiny waist, guiding her to bounce in an aggressive rhythm as the two of you watch your cock disappear inside of her. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans, throwing her head back, red hair spilling over her shoulders. “That feels so good.”

“Look how well you’re taking me,” you praise, your hips jerking up to match her rhythm. Even though you can’t necessarily feel it, you swear her pussy is clenching around the toy, greedily sucking you in and requiring physical effort to pull out. Your own clit is throbbing as the toy bumps it every time Natasha slams down on your thighs. 

“Deeper, babe. Go deeper,” Natasha begs, moving her hands from your shoulders to the headboard, grabbing it so firmly you hear the wood crack. You change the angle of your hips, punching them up to satisfy her command. The bed frame creaks and shakes; you know your father would be unhappy to hear he has to order you a new one so soon, but you can’t be bothered to care right now.

“Fuck, right there. That’s it,” Natasha moans, rolling her hips with such fluidity it makes your stomach clench. She looks down at you, admiring the flex of your muscles as you do your best to please her, a singular bead of sweat running over your collarbone and sliding down between your breasts. 

“I’m close. I’m almost fucking there,” she warns, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm. But you keep your intense pace, until your abs are cramping and you’re certain there are bruises on your thighs. Your own arousal burns like a ball of white-hot fire and you so desperately want to make this woman cum you will gladly ignore the ache of your own orgasm for hers. 

“You’re fucking me too well, baby. I’m gonna lose it,” Natasha pants and the praise almost breaks your control. She throws her head back as she finishes and you bury your face in her heaving chest, tasting the sweat on her skin and sucking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her hand abandons the headboard to tangle in your hair, yanking almost painfully at your roots while you feel her cum spill onto your lap. She pushes your head away once she’s done, your lips parting from her nipple with a string of saliva, and lifts herself off your cock. The two of you are panting in unison, while you’re still fighting the simmer of arousal in your gut.

“Hmm, that was nice. Do you normally let your partner finish first?” she asks, resting her hands on your chest again. “I didn’t think you were the type.”

Your face burns in embarrassment because she’s not wrong. “Um…no,” you admit, knowing full well you could lie, but you feel like she’ll be able to see through it.

Natasha smirks. “Such a gentlewoman with me,” she says, bending over to kiss you, this time much more softly than before. 

“Only for you,” you murmur back, shocked at how whipped you already are for her. 

“You want me to help you finish?” Natasha asks, pushing the strap aside to brush her fingers across your hot center. Your hips jerk off the bed, almost launching Natasha into the air. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles, climbing off your lap and helping you pull the strap off your waist. You’re practically frozen in anticipation, watching with bated breath as Natasha scoots herself down the bed and lowers her head between your legs.

You melt at the feeling of her mouth against your center, perfectly hot and wet. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue glides through your folds, lapping up the mixture of body fluids like it’s some kind life-saving elixir. 

“Shit, baby, that feels amazing,” you moan, burying one of your hands in her red tresses, motioning with your hips that you want her deeper. She obliges by wrapping her lips around your clit and giving it a few hard sucks that have you seeing white stars behind your eyelids. You let go of her hair, afraid you’ll tear it out and grab onto the Egyptian cotton sheets tightly. Her tongue pushes into you and you swear you convulse around it, already leaking into her mouth when she’s only just started to go down on you.

Natasha’s arms wrap around your powerful thighs, trying to force them apart as you close them around her head. You don’t mean to put her in awkward, even dangerous position, but you can’t think about anything other than the pulsing in your center, soothed and encouraged by the heat of Natasha’s mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress to prevent yourself from bouncing across the bed at the rocking motion your body had adopted to maximize your pleasure. Every time her tongue slips into you, the muscles in your stomach contract so sharply it almost hurts, and when she laps at your clit, the stimulation is so great you feel immediately dizzy.

“Natasha,” you pant, unable to hold out any longer. “I’m gonna…Please let me…” 

She presses into you with even more enthusiasm than before and your body seizes as you release yourself into her mouth. Natasha eagerly collects all your slick, her red lipstick smeared on the insides of your thighs.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moan, feeling your high is going to last forever. But just the sensations start to fizz, you realize Natasha still has her iron grip on your legs, keeping them spread apart.

“I want another,” she demands, in a sultry tone that almost pulls the second orgasm from you right there.

“Natasha,” you whine, fearing you are too sensitive to deliver her wishes. You twist your body back and forth, half-heartedly trying to free yourself. But Natasha won’t let you, lowering her head to your heat and taking what she wants. Overly stimulated, every muscle in your body goes rigid as fireworks of pleasure, bordering the line of painful, explode inside of you. Natasha’s tongue somehow reaches even deeper than she had the first time, the tip pressing against your front ridged wall and you lose it for the second time in minutes.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry, your back arching off the bed but Natasha holds your waist down, determined to not let a drop of your essence go to waste. Your head is spinning and your body is like a live wire of excitement, twitching and trembling until you have no more energy left and and you melt into a limp mess.

Natasha kisses up your abs, between your breasts and licks at the column of your sweaty throat. Her lips finally connect with yours and you can taste a hint of yourself mixed with hers. You can’t wait to taste her straight from the source, but it’s going to take a bit of time to find the strength to move after two back-to-back orgasms. She wraps her arms around your torso, nuzzling into the side of your chest and inhaling deeply.

There is a long, but not uncomfortable silence as you two of you find your breath.

“I’m not letting you leave until you sit on my face,” you finally say. Natasha looks up at you with a satisfied grin.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, crawling up so she can do just that.

***********************************************************************

The moment Natasha made eye contact with you, she knew you were done for. You were far too predictable. She knew exactly the kind of woman you chased after. She knew what she needed to say to catch your attention, to convince you that she deserved a private moment with you.

You were too easy.

When you were so busy looking at her lips, trying to figure out when the right moment to kiss her was, you didn’t notice her take your phone out of your pocket, plug a flash drive into the charging slot, and return it back to your pocket in record time.

As you carry her in the elevator, your face buried in her breasts while she slips a tiny audio recorder into the pocket of your blazer. Through the fog of pure lust for you, Natasha struggles to but succeeds in making a mental map of your apartment. Where your office is, how many computers you have.

After numerous orgasms, she’s sufficiently fucked your brains out and cuddled with you long enough for you to pass out into an impossibly deep slumber, she gets up and heads into your office. She doesn’t need more than five minutes to hack into your devices and steal all the data saved on them. She chuckles to herself at how easy the task is; if she had known it would’ve been this simple and enjoyable, she would’ve come after you a long time ago.

Natasha gathers all her things and excuses herself from your apartment without a good-bye.

***********************************************************************

DAY 2

When you wake up the next morning, your mind a haze from the absolute debauchery that occurred the previous night. You rub your eyes and roll over, finding yourself naked and alone in bed. There is a deep soreness in your body, in almost every muscle, and some you haven’t felt for a long time. Natasha’s scent of vanilla and cherry lingers, but she’s nowhere to be found.

“Fuck,” you grumble, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. It’s been blowing up with notifications, which is a little unusual, but you assume it’s mostly from friends still congratulating you on your promotion. You open a text from your best friend and work partner, Tony.

From Tony: You fucked up, dude.

He included a link to a TMZ article. You click on it, half-wondering if it’ll send you to some troll site. The headline reads:

New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 

Everything clicks to you now.

“Oh, fuck.”

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

AN: Click here for Part 2!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[oroontheheels]

Daddy’s gonna be real honest with you kittens.

I’m disappointed with current Venom Run. Let me be real CLEAR here. I don’t hate it. I don’t have beef with its creator. So for a long period of time I was telling everyone “it’s a mess, but it’s better that Donnie Cates”.

But I think comparing them is not correct and let me explain why.

So Donnie Cates. Our boy. Extra edgy, made some terrifically BAD retcons, hated symbrock, tried to make Eddie Brock as trad as possible (giving him human son and all). Plus he ignored the fact that Sleeper was a child of Venom and Eddie. “nOt BioLoGiCalLy” Eddie’s but he called Eddie “father” and they both deeply cared about each other. So Donnie Cates couldn’t allow this either.

But! Donnie Cates while fighting the yaoi made the story ironically even more gayer. It was a train wreck but at the end of the day at least it was fun to laugh at this “closeted shipper” as I like to call him.

And most importantly? At the end they were still “Venom family”. All 4 of them. In Donnie Cates comics.

Now Al Ewing and Ram V… It was… ok. I like Dylan, I like Venom, I like Sleeper. I didn’t like that they “killed” Eddie right at the start of the story and sent him running solo trough time traveling shenanigans. I liked him interacting with Doctor Doom. I liked Meridus being gay with Kang and with that one old man.

But what I lacked is interactions between Venom and Eddie. They almost didn’t interact.

But like, okay. Let Eddie do his thing, let Venom singlemom it out. Also did I mention Ewing and V made Dylan Venom’s son? That was NICE. That’s I liked. A LOT.

And immideatly got my hops up.

Which was a mistake.

So the problem is where Donnie was closeted shipper, I’m starting to believe that Ewing and V don’t actually see Venom and Eddie as a romantic partnership. Or even all that important partnership.

If you check Spider Man Venom War comics, Venom talks A LOT about how much “Saint Peter”(Parker) means to him. It’s very gay very romantic very deep. But at the next pages it also downgraded Eddie role in Venoms life?? Venom is like “so yeah Peter taught me to save lives so I saved Eddie from offfing himself”. And that’s almost it. No emphasis on their bond, on Eddie’s feelings, of their bond. Almost nothing, really.

And now it’s Venom War and Venom says “wow Peter and I are sooo perfect, also it feels nice punching Eddie in the face”.

So what. Venom hates Eddie now? After all those years of forgiveness?? And it wasn’t elaborated in the slightest??

I would hate it but I WOULD understand if they wanted to make Parker new host for Venom for a while. But they don’t?? Apparently Al Ewing planing to give Venom new host (all of the candidates SUCK for the role btw). And if I understood one of his interviews correctly he want to send all the characters their separate ways.

Here’s the statement

Which annoyed me. A LOT. Like i understand that cis hetero males bring all the money to Marvel. We little faggots don’t bring so much cash. So our feelings and wants are not important. But isn’t there big ass FANDOM for symbrock? People who advertise comics for free with their art and activities?? Are we not important whatsoever? And on top of that wasn’t EVERYONE celebrating when Eddie got Venom back (in 2016)?? Don’t we all love homoerotic weird ass bond these two have??

And what does it even mean “yeah it’s been a while since Eddie and Venom have been together”. It wasn’t. Donnie Cates first made Venom into amnesiac DOG, then sent him into exile and then kept him and Eddie from having meaningful interaction until the very end of his run. Everyone who loves symbrock were STARVING.

And Al Ewing and Ram V story separated Eddie into his own story line.

And now Al Ewing tilling us “yeah it’s been too long, it’s time to move on”.

It’s like giving starving person a cup of water and saying “well now you are fed, let’s go on a 20km hike”.

“My work here is done” Tuxedo Mask meme

So like… yeah.

If they’ll make Sleeper a traitor this will be so bad. This will drop from 6/10 to 0/10 immediately.

Not looking forward to Venom future.

And the WORST part? I feel like they are pulling out “this relationship is toxic so it’s cancelled” card on symbrock. They never do that on hetero ships, but they happily destroy gay ships with that argument.

It sucks.

I hope I’m wrong. But like Venom gets new host this December. There’s not much room left to give us decent amount of Symbrock IF writers even want that.

[sassycheesecake]

A/N: Chose the names for the kids completely random, also I was a horrible teenager and I still feel bad what my poor parents had to go through with me. Also, the Spanish translations are from my male best friend whose mother tongue is Spanish, I am sorry if it’s not correct, I’ll kick his ass if something is wrong 😂

TW: period blood

Tōru Oikawa is many things.

King of the court, former national Argentinian Setter, husband of a beautiful successful, confident woman he calls the love of his life and father of three children.

Now as a retired athlete, the former Setter trains all sorts of volleyball clubs in San Juan. From little kids trying out Volleyball for the first time to High Schoolers and even College students trying to go pro.

All these years, you raised the children mostly while your husband played volleyball professionally until he couldn’t do it anymore physically. With coming age, every athlete reaches their breaking point sometime.

Now working your dream job as a novel publisher about a romance novel you recently published, you’re in the United States, traveling and doing interviews about it.

The two of you always wanted a family.

After Tōru did the try outs and made it on Argentinian team, the the two of you celebrated with a lot of alcohol and passionate kisses and just like that, your first child was born 9 months later.

Just by the age of 22, Tōru is a father of a beautiful girl named Sofia, she was born in the bright early morning light in December.

As first time parents, there were ups and downs but you both pulled it through as a team.

During the years, you and Tōru brought two more lives into this world, one girl and one boy. Hikari and Thiago.

Sofia is now 13 years old, which means she is a teenager now. Hikari is 10, while Thiago, the youngest, is 7 years old.

Thiago does not always has it easy with two older sisters, especially since Sofia has had incredibly bad mood swings that she occasionally lets out on her siblings, causing fights to break out that the poor former retired pro Volleyball player has to break up lots of times.

Unfortunately the former Setter’s wife is out of the country for interviews and signing her books, leaving the man to run the household by himself.

During years of intensive training, raising three children, nothing could have prepared the brunette for this.

Puberty.

On Saturday morning, Tōru prepared breakfast for his kids when Sofia came out of her room with an annoyed expression.

No.

Pissed expression.

She sits down at the table without greeting her family and just begins to tear apart the waffles without eating them.

"What’s wrong with you?" Hikari asks in a curious voice.

"What’s wrong with your face." Sofia’s voice is full of venom, like her sister took away her iPod again without asking her first.

"Hey! Ya basta." Tōru scolds her with a frowned expression.

Sofia’s mean demeanor drops a little bit but the anger on her face still remains. She definitely inherited your angry expression that Tōru is still terrified of.

Thiago is just munching on his Lucky Charms cereal, ignoring his sisters’ antics like always.

While both daughters inherited your looks, Thiago looks like a solid copy of his father. The same hair, the same eyes, the same face.

When the Setter cleans up the mess from the cooking, an idea pops up in his head. Something he hasn’t done with his kids in quite a while due to their school activities and homework.

"Hey kids, how about we play some volleyball in the garden later on? We haven’t done that in a while." Tōru suggests.

The two younger Oikawas brighten up with excitement, whereas the oldest one barely reacts.

"Go got ready after breakfast, I'll clean everything up and Thiago, go get the volleyball in mum’s closet." Tōru tells his kids, a huge smile breaking out on his face when his youngest one quickly chows down the rest of his food before running upstairs to get dressed and fetch the volleyball out of his parents’ closet.

Hikari also finishes, setting her plate in the dish washer before going to her room as well, getting ready to play volleyball with her brother and her father.

Tōru looks at his daughter and she pushes her plate away, leaving the table without another word.

"Sofia, you know you can talk to me. Qué te preocupa?" The brunette calls out to her.

She doesn’t reply, just keeps on walking and closes the bathroom door with a slight slam.

With a deep sigh, Tōru finishes cleaning up, wishing his wife was here to help him figure his teenage daughter out.

All of sudden, he hears Hikari and Thiago running down the stairs, this time in sports attire instead of their pajamas.

Making a run for it, Hikari trips Thiago to be the first to arrive in the garden of the house.

With his face landing on the hardwood floor, he groans out loudly in pain before getting up and yelling after his sister.

Rubbing his temple in annoyance, Tōru makes his way to the bathroom to try and get his eldest daughter out to join the family fun.

Knocking gently on the door, the father begins to talk.

"Sofia? You okay?"

"Go away, dad!" She yells out behind the door and it sounds like she is scared but also deeply upset.

"Preciosa, what’s wrong? You okay?" He begins to get worried.

"It’s nothing, I just… I-I need mum for this." Sofia sounds embarrassed as she says it out loud.

Tōru pouts a little bit at that, his little girl choosing you over him.

"Maybe I can help you." The father offers.

"No! You can’t! Gosh, this is so embarrassing!" She shouts in reply.

Now Tōru is starting to freak out a little bit.

"Sofia, tell me what’s wrong or I will knock down this door, I am not kidding!"

No reply.

"There’s… there’s blood… in…my…" She stutters.

Pressing his ear against the door, he tries to listen what she is trying to say.

"Blood in your what?!" Tōru asks frantically.

Now both Oikawas are freaking out.

"I GOT MY PERIOD, YOU HAPPY?!" She finally snaps and yells.

It seems like time has stopped for Tōru Oikawa.

Why, why?!

Out of all the times, it happens now?! When you’re gone and he has to deal with it by himself?

'Deep breaths, Tōru. You can do this.'

"Nena, please open the door. I’ll try to help you in any way I can."

"You can’t! I read online that I need something called a pad or a tampon. Do we have any of that here?"

Tōru knows whenever you’re having your period, you keep your feminine products on top of the med cabinet, out of reach from prying eyes.

Hikari and Thiago return inside the house after a while, confused why their father hasn’t come outside to play yet.

"What’s going on with Sofia? Is she sick?" Thiago worriedly asks.

Hikari appears as well, more annoyed than worried like her little brother.

"Sofia, if you die, can I have your laptop?" She teases.

"No! When I get out of here, you’re done for, you little shrimp!" Sofia snaps back.

"Oy! No one is killing anyone! I will be right there, just leave your pa and your sister for a bit okay? I promise I will be there."

Tōru interferes, before Thiago becomes an only child, more likely foster child, since his wife will kill him as well.

Hikari and Thiago make their way outside again, with Thiago jumping on his sister’s back like a warhorse.

They both scream as they head outside again, while Tōru only shakes his head at their silliness.

"Mijita, check the top of the med cabinet."

"What? Why?" Sofia asks perplexed.

"You’ll find what you’re searching for."

After a few minutes of rustling and hearing movement, the father hears the rustling of plastic and the uncertainty in his daughter’s voice as she describes the products.

"You found everything?"

"Yes, thank you, pa…"

"De nada, linda. I’ll explain from the door how to use it."

Tōru does not move from the door, explains to his daughter step by step how to use the different kind of feminine hygiene products, also offering to buy her favorite candies and food tomorrow and even if Tōru can’t see it, Sofia has tears in her eyes, appreciating her father’s supportive nature so much.

When you return from your trip, Tōru is watching a volleyball game between England and France, eyes captivated by the screen.

He is sipping on a beer can, eyes on the tv, switching between cursing and cheering for the teams.

Entering through the entrance door, you spot the love of your life immediately.

"I haven’t seen you drink a beer since high school. Any special occasion?" You grin as you hug your husband from behind, your arms wrapped around his neck.

Pressing a chaste kiss against his temple, your brunette husband chuckles and intertwines one of your hands with his.

"Bienvenido de vuelta, ¿Cómo fue tu viaje?" Tōru asks while briefly looking at you over his shoulder.

"Amazing! The people are very nice and I was busy every single day. How was home?" You ask in return.

"Puro pánico y discusión entre hermanos." Your husband sighs while taking another sip of his beer.

"What do you mean?" You say in a very concerned voice, already bracing for the worst.

"Your daughter had a mental breakdown over her first period today."

"MY daughter?! She’s your daughter too, marido."

"ANYWAY, your amazing marido handled it, amore. They are all asleep, Sofia and I had a long and big talk, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything else."

You smile brightly at him, remembering you have a little souvenir gift for him.

Quietly unzipping your suitcase, you change into the surprise you have for your husband.

"Tōru?" You quietly call out to him, leaning against the entry way of the living room, doing a sexy pose of the new black Victoria’s Secret lingerie you got from the States.

"Hm?" Looking over his shoulder once more, the brunette’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets, choking on the sip of beer he took, while taking your figure in.

"Ven y cógelo, mi capitán." You say in a seductive voice, walking towards the direction of your bed.

Jumping over the couch, the Setter follows you into your shared bedroom, full of excitement and horniness for his precious wife.

Translations:

Ya basta = stop it/cut it out

Qué te preocupa? = What’s wrong?/ What’s going on?

Mijita = my daughter

De nada = no problem

Bienvenido de vuelta, ¿Cómo fue tu viaje? = welcome home, how was your trip?

Puro pánico y discusión entre hermanos = pure panic and siblings fighting

Marido = husband

Ven y cógelo, mi capitán = come and get it, my captain

[nancywheeeler]

the current republican party is so corrosive on a national scale that it's becoming incredibly difficult not to hate as viciously as they do. i hate the male students in my mom's english classes who are celebrating that trump won. i hate the woman the nyt interviewed who said she voted for trump because he'd protect women. i hate my great-aunt and uncle and their venomous views on immigration and LGBTQ+ rights. but i don't want to spend the rest of my life voting out of fear or hatred the way conservatives do. how do we get everyone out of the cave?

[zareleonis]

Furina x Neuvillette Fic Recs

All I ask of You by Lyrecah | rated T, 28.2k words

Some nights, Furina can’t sleep.

Neuvillette has taken notice and decides to address it.

Neither were expecting a bard from Mondstadt to come along and have an effect on the course of the night.

Why I like it: The pining is so sweet and it's so wonderful to see Furina have a friend in Venti.

The Altar of Her Body by Maleficar | rated E, 4.1k words

She devours his obscenities and his holy vows.

Neuvillette and Furina celebrate solving the serial disappearances case.

Why I like it: THE LADDERS IN NEUVILLETTE'S OFFICE ARE A WONDERFUL SUPPORTING CHARACTER!! Really love how this approaches their relationship from a very different angle from most other explicit works for this pairing so far, including this author's other story for them (more on that one later)

As Light Rain Falls by StarTears | rated T, 3.1k words

Furina drowns in self-doubt after the atrocious meeting with the Knave. As light rain falls, Neuvillette, who watched her back fade away from the Opera House, knocks on her door.

Why I like it: Just what I needed to heal my heart after what Furina went through in the 4.1 Archon Quest. And it made me cry! Simply lovely.

bisous amicaux by LKjoghtun | rated G, 800 words

Focalor kept diaries. A lot of diaries, or maybe she just liked to write and then reread what she had written. She was alarmed when she finished another notebook, three-quarters of which was devoted to Neuvillette. Each page described something they'd done at the place during the day or wanted to do.

Why I like it: The only story on this list written pre-4.0, yet it still feels so right for them. Very impressive how well they portray Furina's insecurities despite knowing so little about the characters at the time of writing.

the complete opposite of professionalism by Sakura_Blight | rated E, 300 words

Furina is insatiable.

Why I like it: Unfair how hot this one is. A story that's short by design but leaves you desperate for more.

Dancin’ Closer To The Edge by sillylittlebard | rated E, 1.9k words

Furina wanted Neuvillette. Over, over and over again. He always would. He would always need his estranged lover. No matter how much he hissed and spat, words were never venomous in nature. This was their game, and this was their own duel. This was theirs. Here, Furina could be wanted. Truly, wanted. Touched. Loved. Heard. He could be heard.

Why I like it: Transmasc Furina enthusiasts rise up!!! Makes me a little giddy to read someone else's take on that headcanon for Furina. I love the intensity and friction to their relationship in this story.

Dancing In the Rain by HydroLily | rated G, 1.7k words

Furina is losing control, and she’s still not even close to reversing Fontaine’s horrible prophecy. She retires to her bedroom, resigned to her circumstances.

Neuvillette notices this and decides that it’s time for a change of scenery.

Why I like it: The act Furina puts on to her true feelings and the quiet but steady Neuvillette are wonderful.

étreinte fantomatique by LKjoghtun | rated G, 800 words

If he were younger, he would certainly be upset by Focalor's behavior, but centuries have passed and he has learned to accept many things, even if he doesn't approve or understand the reason for them.

Why I like it: Glorious prose and my very favorite part, the description of both their fashion sense (I won't spoil, just read it!)

A Fitting Punishment by Maleficar | rated E, 3.9k words

“What are you going to do?” she asks. For all her contrite body language, an impish grin spreads across her lips. “Punish me?”

Neuvillette punishes Furina for nearly condemning an innocent man.

Why I like it: Glorious! Neuvillette is so hot in this I could implode. Love the playful and needy Furina who is a thorn in his side til the end. Can't punish your Archon if your Archon likes it!

Five More Minutes by MissDema | rated G, 1k words (Spanish language version)

Charlotte interviews Neuvillette, Fontaine wants to know about its judge's morning routine. What no one will ever know is that the nation's goddess is actually more present in it than his words say. - minute /ˈmɪnɪt/ 1. a period of time equal to sixty seconds or a sixtieth of an hour.

Why I like it: Easily one of the cutest fics for them out there!!!! Furina so adorable. Now that Charlotte is actually getting her interview with Neuvillette I will pretend it is canon :3

How the Archons Were Tried and Sent to Jail by BookishWanderer | rated T, 15.3k words, ongoing

Why Morax, Barbatos, Beelzebul, and Buer chose the middle of the night to visit Focalors was unknown. The fact is that they did and in doing so, were arrested for crimes related to the honor of the Hydro Archon. Now, their people must navigate the complicated waters of the Fontainian legal system in order to bring their gods home- or at least make sure they are not punished too harshly while grappling with some truths regarding their identities and other things that the archons would rather stay hidden.

Why I like it: Incredibly funny!! Tears of laughter levels of funny. It's so beautiful how enthusiastic the nation is for their love. And the large ensemble cast is handled so deftly.

leisurely times by fukiana | rated T, 4.2k words

With no ongoing court cases and the opera epiclese under construction Furina finds herself quite fidgety with nothing to do, this frustrates her and so she heads to the person she’s closest with.

Why I like it: The gossiping Melusines are adorable and soooo funny. Such a great idea.

Midnight Rain by MissDema | rated T, 1.6k words (Spanish language version)

“But I don't just want you to kiss me, Neuvi…” - Late at night, Neuvillette has still not returned to their chamber. Consequently, Focalors decides to look for him. - midnight /ˈmɪd.naɪt/ 1. twelve o'clock at night.

Why I like it: Adore seeing Furina as the one giving care and comfort. They are so in love!!

Moon, Ahold of All Light, Please Shine Down On Me by AdmireAsunas | rated E, 5.3k words, ongoing

There was an old saying, if you throw coins into the Fountain of Lucine, and make a wish. The Hydro archon will do her best to make it come true. If only the people of the nation of hydro, realize the position their archon puts herself in for their sake.

It's going to take a lot of power and feelings to save the archon, both from herself, and from the group trying to take her out.

Why I like it: Neuvillette hasn't even appeared in this one yet, but the Furina portrayal is downright heartwrenching. Really looking forward to where this story goes.

A Needy God Hates the Rain by LittlestFallenAngel | rated G, 1.2k words

Fearing that Neuvillette has lost faith in her, Furina pays him a visit.

Why I like it: Furina's insecurities hurt my heart, but Neuvillette's love and faith in her heal it :') Love the dialogue in this one.

The reason why by Budget_hrdirector | rated G, 700 words

Furina bounces around Neuvillette's room, loudly complains, sits in his chair and spins around. He wonders why she's doing this.

Why I like it: Very, very cute. The banter between them here is top tier!

Salty and Still Water by WanderingRhyme | rated G, 7.5k words, ongoing (gen fic)

A long time ago, when the island of Erinnyes was inhabited and the fountain of Lucine just a small spring, the youngest of the Lochfolk meets the fallen sovereign of water. Neither of them knew that this meeting would change the fate of the entire nation.

Why I like it: Very imaginative back story for Furina and Neuvillette with characterization that really shines. They're so very different form the Furina and Neuvillette of the present, but still so recognizably them.

ah, a spoonful of sugar by yanderemonoma | rated E, 2.2k words (feat. arle x furi. warning for rape/non-con. please mind the tags.)

Furina neglects to explain to Neuvillette why she's so adamant in having him attend her diplomatic meeting with the Knave.

Perhaps she should have.

Why I like it: A devastatingly self-sacrificing Furina and a Neuvillette who would do anything she ever asks of him, no matter what it costs them both :( Haunted me since the moment I read it.

Summer Rain by SleepyBirdie | rated G, 1.4k words

It rains during a heatwave. Furina wishes there were more sunny days to come.

Why I like it: I love the way they support one another in this one. It's so soft.

Troubled Waters by MissDema | rated E, 1.9k words

“Anything you say can and will be used against you. Now, be a good boy and turn around!” - Focallette pegging fic. That's it. That's the whole plot. - trouble /ˈtrʌbl/ 6. a situation in which one is liable to incur punishment or blame.

Why I like it: TOP FURINA LET'S ALL CELEBRATE!!! Great stuff. It's hot. Also love that there are some bold Fontainians who would dare speculate what the Archon and Chief Justice do in bed.

The Truth, and Nothing But by ThatWindingPath | rate G, 300 words (gen fic)

Boredom is the one and only reason Furina ever visits Neuvillette. That is the whole truth.

Or so Furina pretends, anyway.

Why I like it: Another trans Furina story that I adore. Furina's pride and desperate need to be loved by the public hurts my heart, and the dynamic with Neuvillette, who understands him better than anyone one else, is beautiful.

Woes of Public Transportation by Karmilk | rated E, 1.8k words

“If you are hoping to meet the two figureheads of the Opera Epiclese, I don’t recommend waiting around here. They use their own private transportation, not the aquabus. I doubt this is because they don't wish to associate with the common folk. I suspect they simply don't wish to see their private words and deeds appearing in The Steambird blown out of proportion…” - Elphane

Why I like it: Very funny and delightful exploration of one of the more.... provocative NPC mentions of Furina and Neuvillette.

[voltstone]

i hAVE FIGURED OUT HOW TO FIX MY BLOG.

anyway so longer written-form content's gonna be easier to read now. >:) so i will give the links to my stuff, both essays and the fics i've written in this post.

some of the stuff i wrote a while ago. others are pretty new, like a violet essay.

so enjoy if you want (the keep reading will have all the links).

[Fanfiction]

they adopt a cat named floof | Wednesday

wednesday, for her girlfriend, gets a cat. she finds a way to bypass the “no pet” policy in order to do so. :)

Wenclair

stagger | Wednesday

Enid is her one exception, so Wednesday tries. Again, and again, and again. She gets it right, asking Enid to…not a date. Eventually.

Wenclair

just a bear (or some other wild animal) | Wednesday

“I’ve hibernated with some grizzlies. I know the difference." the story of the time when wednesday slept in a bear cave for a week. she was seven and knew what felt just right.

Back Again | Fallout 4

In other words, Piper Wright walked out of Diamond City with the woman written as the “View from the Vault.” Though, well, the city folk were quick to suspect that there was something else going on between them… And they weren’t wrong. So when Piper walked back into Diamond City without the woman, there was something wrong. Especially the longer she waited on the Publick Occurrences rooftop. Alcohol in her breath. Less shouting and interrogating for interviews. It was all just…wrong.

F!SS x Piper Wright

Bottom Bunk | LWA

With another Samhain Festival celebrated and slept off, Atsuko Kagari finds her room empty of Sucy and Lotte. Yet, she feels the warmth of another girl in her bed. And so a conversation is to be had.

Diakko/Dianakko

toxin | LWA

[toxin] - an antigenic poison or venom of plant or animal origin, especially one produced by or derived from microorganisms and causing disease when present at low concentration in the body. A definition, which, Sucy knows well. It’s why she doesn’t have a heart, nor any sense for what compassion can bring. Although, one night changes things, and maybe—just maybe—Akko proves Sucy otherwise.

Suakko

Sphynx | LWA

Sucy didn’t care about an hour of transformative magic, nor that it was supposed to be “fun” and all about “finding your inner animal.” Well, companion animal, which really meant cats and dogs because…magic. Or something stupid.  And Sucy was left cold and huddled underneath a curtain because she was this ugly naked chicken gremlin? …okay, maybe she did care a little bit.

Suakko

Burning a Cauldron | LWA

Chariot is always one to sleep in—which, frankly, irritates Anne to no end (being the early, responsible bird, after all). However…the early, responsible bird notices that this morning is different.

Finnelariot

She's a Peach, an Apricot | LWA

Amanda didn’t expect this. Lotte didn’t either. One burned of passion, a slip of carnality, yet not the words to reach the other so well-spoken. And the other, all the words in the world, from her books, yet not the body that could easily decipher what she wanted.

Amalotte

[Fandom Essays]

…so about that clementine comic: a (very long, sorry) essay | TWDG

Discussion on TWDG & canonicity, pre-comic full release

…about the clementine comic (again): why is she illiterate? | TWDG

Discussion on how weird the comic is about Clementine's knowledge and understanding of her own world (medically/medicinally and linguistically).

ERICSON'S WALLFLOWER: or bpd as a twdg fandom essay, & violet's analysis | TWDG

Exploration and deconstruction of Violet's character in regards to BPD, BPD as a disorder (with experiences pulled from my own), and how stigma gets in the way of understanding both.

Or or I am feral and am still frothing at the mouth over this character plz people appreciate violet 🥺🥺

[hollywoodoutbreak]

Although Venom: The Last Dance is Kelly Marcel's first film as a director, she's got an extensive portfolio of behind-the-scenes work, including having written all of the Venom films. In Tom Hardy's eyes, that made Marcel the perfect choice to make the third film in the Venom trilogy. Hardy about the film, in who is both the star, and an executive producer said that he's really proud of the job Marcel did in bringing her vision to the screen.

Venom: The Last Dance is now playing in theaters.

[thelunadiviner]

i was tagged by @renegadeem DAYS ago (sowwy for how late this is!) so... it is time!

"9 people you want to get to know better"

3 ships:

valenwind--i mean... come on LOL this one has been with me since i was 11 or 12 (over a decade now!). extremely foundational and, even when i wasn't actively into FF7, has been on my mind ever since i played the game years ago. something something red and blue gays, something something dark hair and blonde hair, something something short and tall. they just fulfill so many good "tropes" and also god i just like these characters SO much its unbelievable. i cannot wait for (what i hope is) the sheer amount of screenshots and screen records of the third part of FF7:R when they are PLAYABLE. the party banter... oh lord...

VKaz--ok... so i am actually a massive Metal Gear Solid fan. i got into it around-ish the same time as i got into FF7 and wow did it change my brain chemistry. there are a few MGS ships that are bone deep in me, but VKaz does something else to me. its blinding. its visceral. its like... wow. it doesn't help that Kaz is probably my favorite character in the game and Venom is sooooo. yeah. cute... idk! but i could probably talk about these guys for literally hours. and it would be incomprehensible. ik this is my squeenix blog but if anyone ever wants to talk MGS with me...

tie (sorry LOL) between akusai and stakhemy--those are so so so different but whatever LOL. akusai is also ages old, one of my first ships. i actually used to be much more into xemsai but akusai has taken the reins. KH is also a decade+ interest of mine (my late childhood/early teen trifecta was KH, FF7, and MGS) so i have so much to say... also i think i am in love with Saix lowkey. now, stakhemy is a new one and much more niche (any Pathologic fans?). i made one of the best character/ship spotify playlists ever for those guys. whenever i think of Rubin i become a little ill. i just find them so fascinating (Patho is super interesting on its own anyways).

first ship: whoooo boy. probably Link/Sheik? LoZ was like. my first ever THING i got into. i used to play pretend in my yard wearing a green tunic and a green santa hat i cut the puff off of to live out my Twilight Princess Link dreams. if not Link/Sheik, then probably xemsai.

last song: Respite On The Spitalfields by Ghost (on a massive Ghost kick because of a friend, its all ive been listening to... my favorite by them is Twenties and/or I Believe)

last TV show: i just watched the 5th episode of Interview with the Vampire this morning with a bestie, but the last show i finished was True Detective season 1 (for the 2nd time... i'm obsessed.. i have a sideblog...)

currently reading: i have been trying to finish Between Two Fires by Christopher Buehlman for over a year atp but 1. i am a slow ass reader, 2. i started it over already, 3. something sad happened so i got discouraged, 4. im so busy and am trying to learn to get better about reading (ADHD moment)

currently eating: nothing atm but i did have a creme brulee cream puff from one of my fav bakeries (shouldn't have spent the money but my name change court hearing was a success so i celebrated <3)

currently craving: im always craving something i love food LOL honestly the first thing that came into my head was a smoothie... but i also love all Asian cuisine and there's this amazing place nearby that has a bomb Pad See-Ew

thank you sm for tagging me!! i cannot think of anyone really to tag atm so i'll probably come back and do that later when i'm less busy.

[toast-on-dandelioms]

For those who cannot see part 2, here is the repost of it!

Years passed and you were now 16, almost mute but with a few friends from school, the only place where no one knew you were a Wayne since you refused to take his surname.

You wanted your mother's surname, you refused to let go of that small part that you still had of her. You refused to let go of that and be replaced by a surname from a person that hated you.

You still had some dignity.

You were happy, you finally had your small place where no one could ruin it and you didn't even care that your supposed family didn't even know who you were.

But everything changed when you went to that damn interview to a scientist lab in a big corporation, you needed money for yourself and knowledge to better your inventions and the corporation you went to was better than any Wayne industry.

You were accepted obviously and after a few months you were on a good position as a part timer and helped with experiments with rats and spiders.

What those experiments were? You didn't know and honestly from what you saw when you were allowed to spectate an experiment in process, the animals almost never died and if they did then they would be honored with a small photo on a wall, to thank them for their help.

You were taking a few subjects to their enclosures and while letting a spider inside its little cage, the little legs of it running down your hand and making you shiver a bit but you did a mistake that all your superiors told uou to never make.

You accidentally moved while trying not to drop another animal that was on the table since it kept moving closer to the edge, scaring the spider and making you get bit by it in the process, the sting of the bite making you almost fall down but not before putting the spider in its cage and closing it.

Then you allowed yourself to fall down and hold the injured hand on the chest as you held back the tears by biting your lips and repeating a mantra you had so that you wouldn't seem weak.

You stayed on the ground for a few minutes, waiting for the sting on your hand to stop hurting so much.

You did notice the spider was a venomous one but that only paralyzed the prey making you scared, not wanting to be found paralyzed and get fired after making a stupid mistake.

You kept on reading the file and thanked whatever god was out there that the venom wasn't strong enough to paralyze a human but just making them a bit dizzy, explaining why you felt so dizzy like you drank five bottles of beer.

You finally got up after the bite stopped stinging and pulsing, making you wobble a bit and check the reports about the spider but it didn't said anything about any experiments made on the animal but you were a bit suspicious about it.

You went to the small lab you shared with a few other interns, starting a few tests on yourself to make sure you wouldn't die or have something horrible happen to your body because of some weird mutation.

You checked every test you ran on yourself, making sure to not have missed anything but it didn't showed any changes so you decided to wait until the new day to see if it was a delayed response from the bite.

You decided to go back to the Manor since it's been days and you couldn't sleep at another friend house again, not wanting to bother them with your 'family' problems.

You managed to get there safely enough by taking the bus, entering silently by the front door and just passing by the kitchen while ignoring the loud noises from the dining hall, knowing that they're probably celebrating something and didn't even try to invite you.

You finally arrive to your room, smiling softly at the plate on your desk filled with food and silently thanking Alfred in your mind since you just realised you didn't eat much that day.

You quickly sit down and eat everything with a big smile, making sure to clean the plate and leaving it on a table next to your door outside of your room to thank Alfred, not wanting to do the trip to the kitchen and risk being seen and seeing all of them look at you with confusion as to why you were there.

Like they didn't even remember that you lived there and were surprised that you were there. You hated whenever they looked at you like that.

You finally plop down in bed, face first and fall asleep in a few seconds, not even bothering to change or take a shower since you were exhausted.

You woke up the next day and as you got up you noticed that something changed in your body.

Not something noticeable like a new set of eyes or a new pair of arms like Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, but you felt more flexible.

Like, you were already pretty good at moving your body thanks to the dance lessons you used to take but now you could move your body in positions you never thought were possible.

Your eyesight was also incredibly better and more enhanced, like you could see from pretty far away without having to squint to see it.

You immediately thought of the spider and its bite so you checked the wound but there was nothing, just two small moles (the small black spots) where the bite was supposed to be.

You quickly went to school, deciding to do a few more tests when you would get to the lab to make sure you didn't have anything dangerous in your body.

The day seemed more slow than usual, making you skip school just after an hour in there and quickly go to the corporation you worked at, using the excuse that school was closed because of a sudden villain attack.

No one even questioned it, they just let you in and went on with their day, not even bothering to check since you were in Gotham so that was normal.

You quickly walked to your lab, immediately starting a few more tests on yourself and sighing in defeat when all the results were the same.

Your blood was mixed with the spider on and you were now half spider. You sighed and worked before clocking in early, slowly going to an abandoned park to check what you now had to just learn to live with it.

You ran a few tests on the field, wanting to see what you now had with the DNA of the spider in your body.

You already checked the sight and flexible factor in a small notebook, adding super strenght, weirdly precise reflexes that also helped you when you were in danger.

You just now needed to see if you could walk on walls like spiders, really hoping you could since you wanted to see how that felt like.

You walked up to a deserted building and took off your shoes and socks before setting one foot on the wall, noticing that you couldn't really take it off.

You tried with the other foot and now you were standing sideways on the wall, making you laugh in glee since it was so freaking cool.

You quickly ran around the building walls before getting to the roof and sitting down on the edge since you were tired.

You thought to yourself to just live with these newfound powers, if you can call them that but then noticed many people walking around and being scared.

You noticed how, even though Batman and everyone else kept the streets clean from super villains, small time thieves and other bad people still ran around even after being caught and brought to jail.

You knew you weren't strong enough before but you now had a small advantage over them and decided to help people, make the streets a bit cleaner.

You would never go and fight big villains but small ones were easy so you quickly went to the manor to start your training, wanting to help others.

You first started by creating the costume, making sure to hide your face pretty well since you refused to let anyone know who you were, even though you were a nobody that not even the media knew about.

You then started to create your own vigilante, giving yourself the name of 'Spider', like the hero Spider-Man from the comics you used to read.

Hey, you got bit by a spider and decided to follow that theme, no judgement on that.

You created the web fuel and used a grappling hook that was lying around to create a web shooter, making sure to make it hidden on your wrists.

Then you started to train in the abandoned park that no one ever walked by, using the trees around it and the buildings as a way to learn how to swing around.

You also learned how to fight by spying your "family", recording how they fought and their weak and strong points to also learn from it.

In 2 months you officially became 'Spider', the new spider vigilante that helped the people from small thieves so no one had to be scared to walk on the streets.

You also used a taser if you couldn't fight against someone stronger and you didn't want to kill them with your super strenght, and the taser was the best move.

You didn't even notice but you started to become famous amongst the city, especially after helping a bus from falling off a brige and stopping a well known rapist after the police did nothing.

You just kept going, happy to help and thinking no one even noticed, not noticing that your "family" also started to notice the new vigilante and was starting to ask questions about who it was behind the mask.

But their curiosity may never be satisfied.

Tag List

@kiyomi-uchiha777

@cattioo

@dreamsarenicer

@gaozorous-rex-blog

@mfnqueen1

@loserwithnofriends

@ratchetprime211

@mamapucket

@proffesorbunny

@mindscape123

@imaginarydreams

@yandere-city2

@143637-hrrm

@definitely-not-sammi

@wardencatseeyou

@mottysith

@i-never-saw-snow

@mushroomsteeth

@that-bad-b1tch

@deathbynarcisstick

@deadmanscalling

(sorry if I can't tag everyone, I'll try to do all of them next time!)

[mutenized]

Celebrity Skin

Eddie Munson x Rockstar!AFAB! Reader

It’s 1991 and Robin forced all of her friends to go to a concert with her for her birthday. Without listening to the band, Eddie agreed to go without knowing what was to come. Who knew being considered a ‘freak’ all his life would lead him to find a kindred soul in the grunge-rock’s princess.

Word count: 2k

CW: 18+ MINORS TURN AWAY. SHOO. mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, small mention of distressing and manipulative/abusive father, mention of a Playboy Magazine.

A/N: it’s 1991 in the story so Eddie is 25 and reader is 22. Thank you for the support on the first part! I don’t know if I should make this a mini series or an actual series, you all let me know! Also my requests are open if you want any concepts to be done or you have ideas to be written about!

Part one / / Masterlist

Eddie edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

Fate was never a concept you believed in. It was never a ‘right place right time’ scenario but that all seemed to change the moment you screamed “Goodnight Indianapolis!” into the microphone and disappeared off the stage where a cool towel and ice water awaited you in your managers hands. Thanking her as you chugged the bottle and wrapped the towel around your shoulders, you began to notice her dismayed face and the thin line between her brows which only appeared when she experiences ‘great stress.’

Spring had been like a mother to you from the moment you ran away at eighteen, the only thing you had was your guitar and a trash bag filled with what clothes your dad didn’t drench in gasoline before using it a tinder for the large fire in the backyard.

“Shoulda known you’re jus’ like your life ruining mother. First the fuckin’ loud ass music then these whore clothes. Then comin’ home marked up?!” The venom in his alcohol-laced rage sent you on edge as you watched him throw your signed Siouxsie Sioux vinyl into the pile of burning rubble that once was your beloved items. That’s when that snap broke and began to pack up what you could fit into the back of your run down car. You didn’t care if it broke down, as long as it did thousands of miles away from suburbia.

That’s what you got. Finding home in Brooklyn, you had found a spot on the street and began to make the backseat your new bed. After a few days of watching you, Spring and her partner Mac knocked on your window.

Okay, maybe that time was right place right time. The question you were about to ask died on your tongue as Mac made their way up to you and the rest of the band who now joined you off stage.

“The openers dropped out of the rest of the tour.” They informed you, the thin line between Spring’s brows reappearing as a groan left Ryder’s lips. Your guitarist, and best friend, had a bad feeling about them when they were interviewed for the spot months ago. This was his ‘I told you so’ as he shot you a side glance, walking beside you as the band and the team moved down the narrow hallway.

“Goddamn, what does the label say? It’s the beginning of tour, we need an opener!” Thalia, the band’s bassist, declared which earned her a sharp stare from Mac and Spring. “They said it’s up to us and to let them know. Our next show is in two days. Within that timeframe we need to find a band that aligns with us, who can sign a contract agreeing to tour, and that the label likes.”

Spring rubbed her temples as Mac handed her a cigarette from behind their ear before lighting it for her. “I had an idea.” They spoke, pausing before the door that led to the crowd of fans that sat waiting by their tour bus. “We’re going to be here for a few days. I’m from Indianapolis and their underground music scene has always thrived. How about open auditions?”

Before, the band and management had three bands to pick from that the label had pre-approved. This time, it was free rein, all together chaos. You loved it. “Let’s let them know when we get into the bus. I don’t know where we’ll hold it but let’s do it.” Your voice was sturdy and in control which was a shock for the two managers, more afraid that you’d tear down the venue and end the lives of each of the opening band’s members. That you’d dream of, already having to be talked to by executives about your loud, party girl nature. If any of your antics got publicized your band would be cut. Not wanting to put you and your friend’s dreams at risk so you turned down the copious bottles of alcohol and small baggies filled with nose candy that you would partake in only once in a while. Instead of engaging that, you disappeared for two months to a rehab facility to cut yourself clean of your vices, though an occasional joint and cigarette didn’t hurt.

Mac only hummed as Spring and her assistant disappeared to start calling up studios in the area to see if they had two open days free. Meanwhile, Mac guided Thalia, Ryder, Marcus, and you out into the cool night, the breeze welcomed as sweat still lingered on your skin. The peaceful moment hidden behind the brick walls of the alleyway was disturbed by the screams of fans once they caught sight of Ryder’s bright red Mohawk and angular face as he stepped out into the streetlights.

This part of the night never got old, no matter how big the began to get. The fans who helped the group’s dreams come true, supporting them through every aspect. The least you could do was sign some magazines and take some photos for someone to later get developed and paste on their wall. Today, though, excitement filled your veins with a joy unlike any other drug could have. You were searching for those doe eyes and the messy, curled hair that reminded you of your friend, Chris Cornell’s. All night the two of you would meet gazes, a wink or suggestive lyric being dedicated to him just to get under his skin which made the other male he was with howl with laughter as his face kept turning a red shade. Then, like magnets, your gazes connected again.

As soon as you stepped off the stage, Eddie shoved whatever cash he had to Steve who was already doing a merchandise run for Nancy and Robin. Steve shot him an eyebrow wiggle before chuckling when Eddie shoved him away all before grabbing the other two of his friends and shoving through the equally as eager crowd with no care as he was yelled and glared at. The two girls apologized enough for him, though they didn’t truly mean it. That man was on a mission and without him, they wouldn’t be leaned up against the same metal bars as before, the ones that held them in like cattle.

Chatting between his small group, Eddie pulled Steve in as he tried to politely nudge his way through the crowd. Once finally with his friends, Nancy laughed before fixing his shirt. “Should have let Eddie give you that makeover he offered. You stick out like a sore thumb, in the worst way possible.” Her words made Steve roll his eyes and let out a playful ‘blegh’ while handing the cassette Robin requested to her as well as the tank top she eyed but wouldn’t buy for herself. A gift from Steve to her. Nancy gently grabbed the tour exclusive vinyl that she had read about in Rolling Stone, holding it to her chest hopefully. For Eddie, though, Steve held back a laugh before handing him the recent Playboy magazine which starred you as their cover and centerfold. “So you have something of sustenance.” He smirked, handing him the bundle set of cassettes for his van.

Just as Eddie was going to return an equally snarky jab, screams and hollering erupted like a volcano from the crowd. Instantly, his chocolate colored orbs desperately searching for yours like it was his dying wish. The moment they met, a smile fell on his pierced feature and his breath stuttering for half a moment all before you began to saunter your way over to him, greeting other fans on the way over.

Your breath caught in your throat as the distance between the mystery man and you closed. Now you stood in front of him with a smile, hand outstretched for Robin as a huge, genuine grin played on your features. “Happy birthday, bitch!” You exclaimed, poking the button before pulling out a marker and perking a brow. “The band wants to take you out for a round of drinks, if that’s cool with you guys? We just have to freshen up and all, don’t want to be sweaty around pretty people such as yourself.”

A blush dusted Robin’s freckled features as she struggled to form an answer while you signed the cassette tape in her hands. “She is meaning to say yes.” Steve laughed, staring at his best friend with wide eyes as if to say ‘what the fuck, get it together dude.’ “Yea! Yes!” Her voice broke, wide eyes settling on you as your hand glided over Nancy’s vinyl with ease.

“Perfect,” accentuating the ‘per, “give us half an hour after we leave, we’re at the Biltmore down the rode and there’s a bar there.” Sending her a wink, your eyes focused back on Eddie, nerves now subsided as you’re presented with your playboy spread. A devilish smirk overcame you, tapping the capped tip of the marker on the paper. “God choice. Made sure all money spent on these would go to women’s rights movements as well as LGBT protecting foundations.” Signing right above your head, you look up to Eddie through your lashes with your bottom lip coyly tucked between your teeth.

To say he was stunned was an understatement, his eyes taking you in as Nancy placed a hand on his back. “Eddie is his name. He’s been drooling over you since the moment you walked out. Birthday bitch is Robin, that’s Steve, and I’m Nancy!” Her smile was bright and you swore you could see her being chased after promoters to be a model.

“Hey!” The taller male choked out as you moved on to continue signing things for other fans, a laugh leaving you as you took in his nervous voice crack. “Well Eddie, I hope you come along for drinks. I’d love to see you there.” Sending him a wink, your attention went back to conversing with other fans all before disappearing into the unmarked vehicles that were set up behind the large tour bus.

Turning to leave, a loud voice caught their attention which paused the group in motion. “EVERYONE!” Mac shouted, a megaphone pressed to their mouth, “due to unforeseen circumstances, the opener for this tour has dropped out. We will be hosting open calls tomorrow and Saturday at Velocity Records starting at 10 AM. Be there early to secure a spot! Note that you MUST be ready with a set before joining us, as you will be thrown right into the swing of things. Thank you, get home safe!”

Three pairs of eyes bore holes into Eddie’s skull, his mouth agape. Fate, this must be fate.

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"...YOU EITHER LOVED IT, OR YOU FUCKING HATED IT." -- THE STORY OF VENOM IN A NUTSHELL.

PIC INFO: Spotlight on English extreme metal band VENOM, during the band's "Welcome to Hell" era, c. early 1980s.

DECIBEL: "I think the positive and even life-affirming message of "Welcome to Hell" was that you can do this. It was a similar message to punk like the Ramones. Learn a few things and run with them. Look at all the bands that took that inspiration from this album and formed bands."

JEFFREY DUNN: "I’ve always said you don’t need to be a virtuoso to write an excellent song. There are bands with unreal, incredible musicianship. I honestly don’t follow much modern metal, but some of the guitarists and drummers are fucking ridiculous. But look at Angus Young. He plays three chords at the beginning of “Highway To Hell,” and 250,000 people go fucking crazy. Paul Stanley is not a virtuoso. He’s a competent rhythm guitarist. But he’s written some of the best rock songs on the planet – whether you like KISS or not. It’s about the song and the connection with the fans. Music should move you physically and emotionally. That’s what "Welcome to Hell" did."

The album also brought a lot of repressed emotions to the surface. There was a big broadsheet in England at the time called Sounds. Our first interview was there. There were letter pages in the back. This was way before the Internet when people wrote letters. The week after the interview, they had to double the letters page. There were so many people complaining and so many people who liked us. In the early days, I don’t think I came across one grey reaction to Venom. You either loved it, or you fucking hated it."

Sources: www.pinterest.com/pin/393009504968562236 & www.decibelmagazine.com/2021/12/06/we-were-the-spark-venom-celebrates-40th-anniversary-of-welcome-to-hell.

[bourgeoning]

SHUT THE DOOR , HAVE A SEAT : THE INTERROGATION OF SUZUME SŌ .

before her departure from kyoto , when  suzume  said  she  hoped  for  a  fruitful  investigation  ,  she  supposed  an  interrogation  would  be  in  order  .  to  actually  be  doing  something  now ,  it  almost  makes  up  for  their  arrival  ,  and  the  grand "  celebration  of  life  "  as  she's  heard  some  call  it  .  but  the  pulsing  in  her  temples  ,  a  tension  headache  just  on  the  horizon  ,  leaves  her  with  a  dearth  in  her  heart  for  forgiveness  .  even  less  than  usual  . she's silent as she enters the room and sits , taking in her counterpart in the form of the mughal royal advisor ariyan , before shifting attention to the interrogator across from her . @theopulenthq

hello  ,  can  you  please  tell  me  your  name  ,  country  ,  &  what  role  you  provide  your  court  ?

she  almost  retorts  ,  pointing  out  that  she  had  been  called  here  by  name  and  title  .  but  observing  her  inquisitor  ,  she  swallows  back  the  caustic  words  on  the  tip  of  her  tongue  .  she  still  wordlessly  stares  him  down  ,  though  .  "  lady  suzume  sō  —  advisor  to  his  majesty  ,  the  emperor  of  japan  .  "  the  imperial  surname  ,  as  usual  ,  is  absent  from  her  introduction  .

and  who  do  you  believe  to  be  your  closest  allies  ,  either  nations  or  individuals  ?  do  you  trust  your  allies  ?

"  japan's  allies  ,  of  course  .  "  she  could  mention  others  :  her  betrothed  and  their  family  ,  and  how  both  hold  importance  to  japan's  development  whenever  they  tie  the  knot  (  …  if  they  tie  the  knot  )  .  the  friends  she  maintains  from  the  qing  family  ,  in  spite  of  her  disdain  for  the  empire  as  a  whole  .  but  she  remains  vague  ;  lying  by  omission  ,  the  only  sort  she  can  tolerate  .  "  having  a  critical  eye  is  important  when  it  comes  to  politicking  ,  so  it's  natural  to  be  skeptical  .  but  our  allies  have  proven  trustworthy  .  "  most  of  them  ,  anyway  .

ah  ,  yes  ,  i  see  …  how  about  your  enemies  ,  then  .  who  do  you  not  align  yourself  with  ,  and  why  ?

"  the  morally  bankrupt  ,  "  she  answers  without  hesitation  .  a  truth  ,  but  with  one  exception  .  she  and  midori  toe  a  line  now  ,  between  amity  and  rivalry  .  when  asked  to  elaborate  ,  she  shakes  her  head  ,  staring  her  interrogator  down  until  he  moves  on  .

interesting  .  do  you  have  a  personal  vendetta  against  any  of  the  courts  ,  or  even  individuals  ,  here  ?

"  only  the  people  responsible  for  taking  the  late  emperor  and  empress  from  us  .  "  but  truth  be  told  ,  she  is  nothing  without  her  grudges  :  toward  the  emperor  of  qing  for  breaking  promises  ,  toward  her  fellow  officials  for  using  underhanded  tactics  ,  and  so  many  others  .  they  make  suzume  who  she  is  .  but  to  be  truthful  would  be  her  undoing  ,  and  she  doubts  many  would  answer  truthfully  either  —  unless  they're  daft  ,  or  trying  to  point  a  finger  at  someone  on  purpose  .

what  are  your  thoughts  on  the  mysterious  deaths  in  so  many  royal  families  ?

"  devastating  .  "  she  keeps  her  expression  neutral  ,  save  for  a  moment  when  her  lip  quivers  .  as  she  presses  her  lips  together  ,  her  jaw  tightens  .  "  whoever  is  responsible  ,  they  are  deplorable  .  "  she  finally  says  .  her  interviewer  winces  ,  as  if  she's  spitting  venom  .

how  do  you  feel  about  the  system  of  monarchy  as  a  whole  ?

"  it's  the  way  of  things  .  "  for  over  a  thousand  years  ,  in  the  case  of  japan  .  a system that , in spite of its flaws , has held her island home together for centuries . "  but  some  have  grown  complacent  .  sovereigns  who  forget  that  their  duty  isn't  merely  to  lord  over  others  .  "

so  ,  what  would  be  your  best  theory  as  to  what  is  going  on  ,  then  ?

she  sniffs  indignantly  .  "  until  i  have  more  information  ,  i  don't  think  it's  wise  to  build  a  theory  .  "  and if  their  hosts  have  a  theory  of  their  own  ,  she  assumes  they  wouldn't  share  it  .  "  will  we  be  given  a  report  of  your  findings  ?  "  the  advisor  in  front  of  her  shifts  uneasily  in  his  seat  under  her  gaze  ,  clearing  his  throat  after  a  prolonged  silence  .

thank  you  for  your  time  .  is  there  anything  else  you'd  like  to  add  ,  anything  else  that  would  be  useful  to  the  investigation  ?

"  no  .  "  she  rises  from  her  seat  ,  offering  a  bow  ,  before  turning  heel  to  leave  .

[allnightlongzine]

Finding Love in Mall Goth Purgatory

"I will ride for My Chemical Romance to the grave, because, from 2002 to 2012, they rode for both you and me."

Horror Movie Marathon | September 26, 2018 | talkhouse.com

On October 16, 2005, my sister and I put on our eyeliner, slid into our mall-goth armor, and drove an hour north to Hartford, Connecticut to see My Chemical Romance for what would be our first time of many. It was still a year before their magnum opus, The Black Parade, was to be released. When the lights came down and the show began, a spotlight emerged at the center of the stage, illuminating only a microphone stand ornamented with a bouquet of dead roses. Gerard Way, the band’s flamboyantly morbid ringleader, stepped out of the stage’s dark abyss looking like a corpse priest, adorned in heavy white makeup and full-on church robes. The band opened with “Interlude,” going right into “Thank You For The Venom.” If you’re an MCR fan, you know how fucking sick of an opener this is. My life changed forever after this concert.

Do you have any idea how satisfying it feels to look a DIY-hipster-judge in the eyes and tell them, in all honesty, that in 2018 your favorite band is still My Chemical Romance? You can learn a lot about someone by their reaction to such an admission. Perhaps such a statement makes me an obnoxious judge in my own right, but the truth is, I will ride for MCR to the grave, because, from 2002 to 2012, they rode for both you and me.

MCR, in all their macabre glory, were unwaveringly dedicated to an ethos of inclusivity and honesty, love and compassion, death and rebirth—the kind of virtuosity that was frowned upon in the popular music of 2005, yet now celebrated in 2018. They flew their freak flag high and encouraged others to do the same, all at a time when that breed of non-judgmental sincerity was viewed as sin by every taste-making music critic in an Animal Collective t-shirt. Now, in 2018, I find myself a 26-year-old musician who has been deeply influenced by their music and message, getting into one intoxicated conversation after another, hoping to spread the gothic gospel of MCR to the remaining non-believers.

When MCR played live, their dedication to the audience was palpable. Like an explosion of wicked cats jumping out of a witch’s cauldron, each band member would erupt with raw energy to give an over-the-top performance of catchy goth punk songs. I believe one of the reasons MCR has retained such a loyal and dedicated fan base is because their wildly emotional performances never felt like a façade; they were keenly aware that it was a privilege to be on stage, and this cognizance of respect manifested itself through the messages of love encoded in their songs and live performances.

This respect for their audience was also evident in Way’s interviews and onstage monologues regarding mental health, accepting other people for who they are, and the hypocrisies of masculinity. Throughout the press surrounding both their major label debut Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge and The Black Parade, Way candidly discussed his struggles with depression and addiction, and his hope that their music could help save other people’s lives as it did his. MCR were always vocal that they wanted their music to save people, which admittedly sounds cheesy at first, but it’s a pretty admirable statement when you know that the majority of the band’s fan base were depressed kids experiencing the world from suburban mall goth purgatory.  

The band has earned such respect from their diehard fans that even they don’t want a reunion, unless the band feels that it’s right. As seen in the article recently published by Noisey about MCR’s still very active fan base, some even go so far to say that the band reuniting would be antithetical to their message of death and rebirth, and the positivity of change therein. Literally, how many international superstar bands have fans that are this aware and respectful of the complex relationship band members can have to their music and the message it projects? Most fans of world famous rock bands will sound off in the YouTube comments section with blustery statements of aggravation and entitlement, demanding a reunion show or a new album. But MCR fans? They prefer the band stay broken up because they want to respect the band as much as the band respected them.

Very few of MCR’s peers from the mid-‘00s gave or earned the kind of respect from their fans that MCR did. Rather, many bands that tried to align with MCR’s message and image were essentially selling counterfeit emotion in the form of trendy Hot Topic t-shirt designs, insincere stage antics, and utterly benign, and frequently misogynistic, pop music. In 2018, it is sheer fact that many of those bands were full of shit and exploited the vulnerability that their scene implied to enact gross and predatory behavior.

This is one reason why taste-making machines like Pitchfork and BrooklynVegan were justified in ignoring and condescending the mid-’00s emo cesspool as it germinated throughout malls and low-capacity venues across the country. However, that’s not to say the overly-abstracted, pseudo-intellectual ramblings of mid-’00s Pitchfork hype bands weren’t totally absurd and problematic in their own right. Both music scenes postured a kind of moral code through songs, images, and fashion that signified a certain perspective towards culture and its problems at the moment. But, the reality is that bands from both scenes hardly ever posited their morals or virtues unless the sign of the times directly requested it from them.

This was not the case for MCR. They were just a band of five dudes from New Jersey, but they vehemently promoted equal rights on- and off-stage. Their pop-gothic world of vampires and ghosts, octave slides, and tri-tonal harmony always served a greater message at hand. Their comic book and horror movie-influenced narratives always represented a power in owning the trauma of the past and moving forward towards hope. In being themselves and helping others be themselves, MCR transcended both the hip arena of art-rock coolness and the sewage of Warped Tour residue, flying high in the black sky as one of the greatest rock bands of our time.

Now, it’s 2018. The lot of mid-‘00s hipsters and scenesters has mostly evaporated and come back as other representations. Most of the members of MCR are parents and focus on their own projects: Gerard Way is about to launch a Netflix show based on his comic book series The Umbrella Academy; Mikey Way has been performing as a voice actor; Frank Iero has a punk band that records and tours; and Ray Toro is helping other musicians shred to hell and back as a producer and engineer in his New Jersey studio.

For me, and many fans like me, I am no longer just a fawning teen, but a 26-year-old musician. I use the passion, conviction, and love I learned from MCR as fuel for my own project, Horror Movie Marathon. Very few of the people I collaborate with or know are big fans of My Chemical Romance. Sometimes, people will tell me one of my songs reminds them of this pop group or that folk artist, which is usually very accurate—I essentially make pop-folk music. My admission of MCR’s influence on my music will either be met with a resounding “Hell yeah, ‘Helena’ is tight,” or a recoil and a facial expression that says, “I wish I didn’t just give you the honor of comparing your music to Jon Brion.”

I can’t hide my love for the band, and why would I? Their songs meditate on the horrific beauty of tragedy, and in the tradition of true tragic storytelling, there’s always a viscerally moving message gleaming through the metaphoric language. MCR worked their asses off to make those messages as potent as possible; it was an energy you could hear in their songs and see in their live performances. Through all the morbid metaphors, spooky stories, and dazzling stylizations was an indestructible foundation of love and gratitude for the life-saving spirit of music. Even though the externalities of my music don’t resemble MCR’s very much, their message of love and respect will forever influence the core of what I create.