#fab!read

[deceitfuldevout]

Happy Purge

Purge AU: Soft!Dark!Mike Kiernan x Student!Reader

Word Count: +2,068

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Stalking, Kidnapping, Power Imbalance, Use of blood as lube, Mild gore, Purge day.

Author's Note(s): I was thinking about this and coincidentally it's kinktober haha!

It's been almost a decade since the first purge. A lot has changed since then. You remember a time when people didn’t have to worry about looking over their shoulder. Even the morning after was gruesome scene. There was an official purge cleanup crew for that reason alone. You couldn’t help but stare at the clock on the wall.

If you could squeeze in just one last assignment, you'll be free for the weekend. Suddenly, you hear your name being called. It breaks you out of your train of thought, turning to your instructor and apologizing, "Yes Professor! S-sorry..." now embarrassed that you've been caught by him. Professor Mike Kiernan

According to his students, Mike was more than an exceptional teacher. Every last one of them adores him. If not, well then he'd have to look out for tonight. You on the other hand, have always felt there was something off about him. As if he were harboring a dark secret. Maybe it was the building nerves. After all, tonight would be the start of the annual Purge Day.

Mike ends class an hour early, giving his students enough time to reach home safely. You on the other hand, take the opportunity to finish up remaining school work. Mr. Kiernan was also in charge of study hall. He notices you're the last student left and approaches your desk, "Forgetting something?"

You look up at him with your pen still in mouth, taking it out to speak. That's when the realization hits. "Oh sh—shoot!" Quickly correcting the slip up. You had completely forgotten. In about thirty minutes the sirens were going to ring, after that the Purge would commence. You lived a little more than half an hour away. How on earth would you make it to home on time?!

Mike notices your fidgeting, poor thing. You were so caught up in school work that you'd completely forgotten. Always so responsible, one of his best students. So kind and generous. You were always a good student, helping anyone that needed it. Was it bad that he wanted to keep it all for himself?

"Do you need a ride home?" he offers, "It's not safe out there, especially not for a young lady like yourself," kind, genuine words. Your phone is almost dead, and you had no point of contact. So you take his offer, "Thank you professor Kiernan, Seriously," You grateful to have someone like him. He walks you to his car parked on the edge of the lot. He takes his time walking to it. You on the other hand, were in a hurry.

You felt almost embarrassed by the way you held the door handle eagerly waiting for him. To unlock it. He chuckles, clicking the button of his keys to open it. You hurry inside, not wasting a second hopping onto the seat. As he began to drive off you could hear the first warning bell. There would only be two more before the final sirens. Your eyes are glued to the red sirens attached to each public building, the blaring makes you feel sick.

When the car makes a sudden turn off the main road, you begin to grow suspicious, "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"This isn't the way to my house..."

"I know, but it's too late for that now," he answers, "The third alarm is about to go off, we won't make it in time," his eyes are still glued to the road. You gather enough courage to speak up again, "Professor....professor where are we going?"

"I live nearby, you're more than welcome to spend the night," he answers, "The last thing I'd want is for those animals to harm a student of mine," he reassures. Mike lives in the more rural side of town. There's a growing feeling you have that something was wrong about all this. But what other choice do you have? It was better than being out there alone on the streets.

As soon as you arrive to Mike's home, he activates the security system. When he first bought the house, the first thing he did was install a Purge-proof security system. He walks into the kitchen, rummaging for something, "Would you like some tea?" he opens the pantry to fetch some herbs. While it boils he gets some jam and toast for it. As soon as he finishes up, he places both cups on the table.

You notice that Mike hadn't taken a sip from his drink. Your eyes widen with fear, "You haven't touched your cup..." there's a pause. Then he realizes his mistake, "Ah, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you nervous," he switches the drinks, "Here, have mine," he takes a sip from your cup to insure it hadn't been spiked. It calms your nerves knowing that there was nothing to worry about.

Mike had kept his promise that you would be safe here. It's been a while since he's had anyone over. He tries his best hosting skills, a round of charade, following by a board game. It was honestly one of the best purge experiences you've had yet. A great distraction from the events occurring outside. He insists on watching a movie to kill the time, you agree. Why not? Besides, Mike's company wasn't so bad.

It was during the middle of the movie when you needed to use the restroom. He points you to down the hall. On your way back, you notice a door had been left open. It was most likely the master bedroom. When you reach the knob to close it, you accidentally take a glimpse inside.

That's when you notice what was there. No....there's no way...You enter his room to get a closer look. Mike smiles to himself. To think that he'd been so worried about everything, and for what? You seem to be enjoying his company. He was right all along, there was something more to your relationship.

He hears you rushing down the hallway, there's an angry look on your face, "What the fuck are these?!" you toss the photos on the ground. Pictured in each and every last one of them is you. Some of them were taken while on campus, others were downloaded from social media posts. He smiles, "Now I know what you're thinking, but if you just hear me out--"

"Not a fucking chance!" you back away from him. He's confused, why now were you acting out? It was going so well between the two of you! Can't you see how much he cares?

"Don't you see the love and dedication I have for you?! And you know it too!" he nears, "I know you feel the same way..." his voice sounding more desperate, there's a deranged look in his eyes that doesn't meet his smile, "Tell me you weren't thinking the same thing, when you waited for me after class," he held a hand to his chest, expressing his love for you.

He's finally letting you know how he's felt for a very long time. You were at a loss for words, there's no way he actually thought--between the two of you? He's delusional. To think you and your classmates actually trusted him. You're pissed, "Get it through your fucking head! You're my professor! That's all you'll ever be!"

After hearing that Mike's smile fades. He could feel heart shattering into a million pieces. Maybe it was a mistake, bringing you here on your own terms. If he knew this was how you would react, then he would've just stuck to the original plan. He knows he could get away with it too. After all, it was Purge day.

Usually, he'd go against something like this. But what other choice does he have? It quickly turns into a fight or flight situation. You knew he was stronger than you, so there would be no point in fighting him. What other choice did you have other than running? Mike is much faster than you realize. He's quick to grab you before you've had a chance to alert the security system.

Mike drags you across his home. He stops by a door located on the side of the staircase. He almost rips the hinges off when he pulls you inside. You fought with all your might, scratching, pushing, hitting wherever you possibly could. To him, they felt like nothing. He's dealt with worse. In the struggle, you're sent tumbling down the stairs.

Mike uses his body to shield yours from the fall. He cradles your head against his chest. Yet still, you were fighting him, after everything he's done. You scurry towards the other side of the basement. As far away from him as you could possibly be.

Mike sighs with annoyance, "You have no idea what it's like..." he lifts himself off the floor, his hands now balled up into fists. He doesn't know how much longer he can hold himself back, "You have no idea what it's like seeing you every day, and not being able to do a damn thing!" he charges, slamming you against a wall, he leans his head closer to yours.

Still there was that look of admiration in his eyes, "We could've been so happy together," Mike grabs you by the throat, pulling you into a deep, searing kiss. In retaliation you bit his lip. He winces in pain, "Will you just...stop fighting me?!" his anger gets the best of him as he slams you against the wall. You're left stunned after getting the wind knocked out of your lungs.

Mike is quick to catch you. He panics, "Please! I don't want to hurt you!" He yells over and over again, "I love you! I love you! Please! I love you!" there are tears in his eyes, "Just please...let me love you..." he sighs against your neck, placing a kiss on the bare skin, "Look at what you do to me..." he grinds his bulge against your clothed mound.

You could practically feel how big it was, even through the many layers of clothing. It makes your skin crawl, how he's played the role of a caring professor and community member for so long. Could he even see himself right now?! "Look, whatever you want, a house, a baby, I'll give ya," Mike never knew he even wanted those things, not until he met you. Don't you see? You're all he's ever needed.

You fought him like a trapped animal. His feisty little wildcat. You use both fists to land a few good hits on his face, over and over again. Hitting his nose with a 'crunch' sound. But still, it doesn't stop him. Mike can't seem to understand why you were trying to escape. It was useless fighting him. This would be so much better if you just gave in. Because eventually, he's going to get what he wants. He pulls you into another forceful kiss.

For that, you headbutt in right in the face. Mike winches, pulling away from you with a now bloody nose. He throws you to the ground. Then pounces, caging his body on top of your own. He begins to unbuckle his belt, dragging his boxers down to free his cock. He spits a wad of blood in his palm, that'll do for now. He doesn't want to waste anymore time. Purge would be ending in a few hours, and he'll make sure to use every last minute of it.

He knows how the law works in this area. If a couple lived together for over a year, then it would legally bind them together as husband and wife. Mike doesn't mind that idea at all, 'My wife...you're going to be my wife," he sighs. Your stomach churns after hearing that, "No...no please, this isn't what I want!"

"You don't even know what you want" Mike starts lifting up your skirt, he's eager, almost giddy, "But I do," yanking down the waistband of your panties. He forces his member deep inside, groaning from the sensation of your walls pulsing. You scream from the intrusion. It resembles a cat's howl.

Tears begin to form, now blurring your vision. Your claws sink deep into his chest, as he began thrusting in and out of your channel. He doesn't stop, not until he finishes. He has only one goal on his mind, to plant his seed, leave a legacy behind, "Take it, take it..." he mumbles over and over again.

"Professor?" a student asks, causing Mike to break from his trance. His student asks the question again, "How was your purge?" genuinely curious. What did Professor Mike Kiernan, of all people, do to earn those nasty bruises? He's still wearing his sweater from yesterday, now caked in his own blood. The first thing he did the morning after, was drag himself out of bed and straight to lecture. He couldn't help but grin, "Well, ran into some trouble, but, no worries,"

His students and coworkers felt bad. They all said the same thing, how Mike was the last person who deserved something like this. If only they knew. After a long day of lectures, he finally drives home. He passes by the Purge's official memorial road. There are numerous photos of people who had either lost their lives or went missing.

When he sees your photo, he can't help but smirk. He parks his car on the side of the road, approaching the stand. He pockets the picture for keepsake, smiling to himself as he returns to his car. It's been a long time since Mike has looked forward to coming home.

Perhaps Purge wasn't so bad.

[missm0rgue]

Killjoys my beloved

[sophaeros]

the strokes for rip it up - new zealand, october/november 2001 / no. 283 — print version web version

Simple Scruffy Spunks

Scruffy rock stars get all the chicks. Julie Warmington and Kylie Klein Nixon corner the dashingly shaggy boys from the Strokes in London — once at an interview, then at a party — and find they just wanna drink and rock.

Meeting Julian Casablancas is like meeting living proof that rock'n'roll will never die. The 22-year-old New Yorker and singer with the Strokes should be embracing the "now" culture of many of his peers. He should be scrupulously clean, drug and booze free, heading down to Florida for the summer break with a pretty blond on his arm and Basement Jaxx on his personal MP3 player.

But he's not. Rip It Up still hasn't met him. He's in bed, hungover and refusing to get up. He is unwashed, jet lagged and beer crusted. Yay! We don't mind. When he finally does show, two hours late for the day's round of interviews, he's dishevelled and rye. His grin is about as infectious as rabies and he is, quite frankly, sexy as fuck.

"Hey, this is new," notes band manager Ryan Gentles, who’s been sitting fretting in the hotel lobby for what appears to be half the night and all of the morning. He's referring to Julian's tan La Coste jumper, not the attitude.

When we get our turn at the Strokes info trough, the boys are tucking into Thai rice and a round of amber nectar. It's 1pm. Handshakes and suitably half-arsed "nice to meet yous" are flung at us and we wade in.

"New Zealand," bellows Fabrizio "Call Me Fab" Moretti (drummer) when he hears the article is for Rip It Up. "Man, that's supposed to be a beautiful place. I have a friend who went there on an exchange, he said it was really cool." Aww, how sweet, he's heard of us. So when are you gonna go play there? "Dunno," whispers bass player Nicolai Fraiture shyly, "but we're going to Australia next month." Ah, great. Let's move on shall we?

—

"The coolest band on the planet", "the saviours of rock", playing on the catwalks of New York and Paris, hounded, followed and adored. Rumours abound — their names are made up, they were put together by the lead singer's dad (John Casablancas, founder of the Elite Model Agency), they're constantly fighting with each other, they're constantly fighting with strangers, they drink to much, they're gay, they're straight, they're homophobes. Everybody wants to know everything they can. But one thing is sure, The Strokes are roundly agreed to be the quintessential rock band, the "great white hope" of nu-rock'n'roll. They're more than that.

They're five guys who hooked up in high school with a shared interest in booze, girls and guitars. Casablancas (the vocals, wit, sex, and charm behind The Strokes) met Nicky Valensi* (the guitar playing, gorgeously cynical, faux English schoolboy) at New York City's Drake School before being shipped off to L'Institut Le Rosey in Switzerland for some "discipline". It was here that Casablancas bonded with Albert Hammond Jnr (dead pan and wised-up afro with a guitar).

Seems the Hammonds were having the same problems as Casablancas. Neither Julian nor Albert has anything particularly nice to say about the school, apart from adoring it for introducing them to each other. A year later Julian would be re-united with Nicky and meet up with Nicolai Fraiture (bass, stoically shy and sweet) and Fabrizio Moretti (drummer, earnest and excitable, all round ace guy) at The Dwight School on Manhattan's Upper West Side.

When fate drew Albert to the Big Apple via Los Angeles (his songwriting father, Albert Hammond, wrote It Never Rains In Southern California), Julian was the first person he looked up. Luckily the first vestiges of The Strokes had already been formed and all they needed was another guitarist. Albert was their man.

They performed together — properly — for the first time in 1998. There are stories floating around about debuts at Nicky's sister's 21st birthday and seedy bars in the village. Almost all these stories they will admit, are true. So they slowly built up up a reputation until finally getting booked at New York's Mercury Lounge. There they met Ryan Gentles, who became their manager. The Strokes were complete.

The rest will be history, as premature as that might be for a band who have just released their debut album, Is This It?.

So what are they all about? Besides saving us from the glut of pre-masticated pop and souls stifling dance, what are their hopes and ambitions?

Playing music and doing their stuff, by all accounts. Their stuff: a sublime mix of 70s New York City and noughty's savvy. Fashion flash and strep throats, with a smattering of anglophilia to match the op-shop chic. Garage soul-sensibilities and themes as diverse as personal disgust and underage lust.

We discover that Julian always roots for the underdog and doesn't "really give a fuck about baseball," and that the last time Albert cried was "as the plane was taking off". For Fab it was when Nicky's girlfriend dumped him (for the cute one from Weezer no less). At this, Nicky leaps to his feet to sing, Don't Cry For Me Fabrizio, at the top of his lungs.

"The Beatles hated each other, but we love each other," Nicky says. To prove the point they all agree that if they could only take five things to a desert island they would take each other and their manager. That is until Julian demands that one band member opt out so they can "take something more useful like a girl, or our fucking instruments". Just in time Nicky reasons that they can make their instruments out of coconuts and bamboo.

The band is open and unguarded — they want to chat. Chiefly with each other, but it's fine just being around this kind of energy.

Julian F. Casablancas. Nicholai Fraiture. Fabrizio Moretti. Nicky Valensi. Albert Hammond Jnr. The Strokes have got cool names. "I guess we just had cool parents who chose our names," chimes Fab. "My mom was like: (mock Italian accent) 'I think this boy will be a rocking roll star'."

The table then descends into chaos and spilt pints as they discuss the finer moments of Mrs. Moretti's experience. "But," adds Fab soberly, "she didn't know I was only going to be a drummer... she was too extravagant."

—

They take themselves seriously, oh yes. The album, Is This It?, took them one month to record... 30 days. It is the product of their "salad days" gigging around Manhattan and Philadelphia.

"That's why it works so well," says Fab, "we've had a really really long time to perfect the album outside the studio... an album that's who we are as The Strokes."

Who they are is a piece of carefully crafted art that will move you from the groin on out. A record to be cherished for its ability to make you smile and get up. Surely this is the wonder of Is This It? It's rock'n'roll that makes ya wanna move.

After experimenting with a different producer, namely Gil Norton of Husker Du and Pixies fame, the boys went back to their old friend Gordon Raphael who originally produced their three song EP Modern Age. They wanted to cut back on production, as Albert says, "To keep it true to the live set."

They all agree that Norton was great, but not for them. "Doing things professionally doesn't fit with our style," the lax and by now pissed voice of Julian crawls across the table. "If we stay raw it sounds, like... great."

Talk about understated. On the track Take It Or Leave It you can hear this man's tonsils crying out for mercy, you can smell the blood on Albert's shirt sleeves. This ain't no Radiohead mate.

They just wanna rock, and drink. Which has to be admired.

They're so un-phased by the media's insistence on linking them to The Velvet Underground, The Stooges, The Ramones and any number of late 70s New York punk they care to mention. Is This It? isn't going to shatter anyone's illusions about what these boys want to sound like.

"What a cool band to be compared to," admits Julian about The Velvet Underground. He means a band that's beloved and credible, different and weird... not to mention fucking good. "It's sorta a subconscious goal to have music that cool, but actually make it popular... a cool way to make popular music more interesting."

Rip It Up demands an explanation for so suddenly signing to majorinos RCA then. A chorus of oohs and ahhs goes up around the table before the earnest protestations that RCA are the best of a bad bunch. They do look slightly... defensive? Albert pipes up: "It's like being bisexual. Yeah, you get the best of both worlds."

The rest of the band agrees. "They just give us money and stay out of our way," says Nicky, flicking his hair out of his eyes.

Are they unrepentant about signing to a major? "I had the fucking head of RCA on the phone 4 o'clock in the morning," states Julian, "telling me how much he loved the album." Yes indeed.

Why is this not sickening? Why are the credibility censors not in overdrive? Because this is a band pure and simple. Mates who saw the spark reflected in each other. And they ain't that pretty, or well dressed. OK they are, but the point is, they just are. The Strokes were always going to happen thank Christ. A wake-up call for the apathetic. No slouching unless you mean it.

Julian says: "I wanted to make the music sound like it was from 30 years ago, but being heard now. With everything that entails. Do you understand?" If he means pared down and honest to the point of embarrassing, then yes. "Or the other way, like music from the future heard now."

True, Is This It? sounds a lot like it's something you dug out of your dad's wardrobe where the band on the cover are all wearing winkle pickers, whatever they are. There's more though, it's an understanding and knowledge that blasts the naïveté of 60s garage out into space.

Julian's descriptive powers and the knowledge aside, aren't they worried they'll lose this edge? Money, girls and power have wrecked havoc with better men than them. "But who cares as long as it sounds like we want," mutters a very distracted Nicky, only putting his head up occasionally from his magazine. "I mean, rawness, maybe we will want it more produced if that's what we like."

And herein lies the rub. In a perfect world RCA would not through money at these kids. RCA would ignore them no matter how good they actually were, no matter how much they want the cotton wool cosseting of the Big League. The band would have to work, creating themselves every step of the way. Paying their dues and becoming in the end a band utterly worthy of the 'great white hope' tag that has been hung carelessly on their coat hanger shoulders.

Will hype drown the creative spark? The worry is that in six months time no one's going to give a fig about Fab's broken hand, and Julian's dad, anymore than they'll care about any second album.

—

A few days later we bump into The Strokes lending moral support to fellow New York City space cadets, the Moldy Peaches, at their first London gig. The boys are high as heaven having come straight from the BBC where they recorded three songs for the legendary Top of the Pops. "Man," wails Julian, resplendent in pink silk tie and shiny grey suit jacket. "It was so fucking cool. It fuckin' rocked."

Fab is more sedate. "I can't believe we did it, but I fucked it up." Surely not? "I was so nervous I kept making mistakes. I sucked." But watching their performance on the show later it is easy to see that this is a band still on the rise, perfectionism aside, they control the stage, the cameras and above all, the hearts and souls of an audience more accustomed to Shaggy and Nelly Furtado. The fact that they’re on TOTP's at all (their single Hard To Explain entered the UK charts in the top 20 on a wave of passion and media hype) speaks volumes about the music buying public's desire for some Goddamn grunt.

At their epoch marking, celebrity studded, sold out show at Heaven in London, tickets are changing hands for £150 (NZ$500). The after party — the place is in a frenzy. The boys can barely move for the cameras clicking, autographs to be signed and girls hanging off every thread of their thrift store suits.

"I've been trying to get to the other side of the room for the last hour," Julian says incredulously. He's separated from his mates as they are accosted from all sides.

Nicky is posing in a photograph for a fan. Nicolai is signing a CD. Albert is being followed and literally clawed by a young female. It is as if she senses this is her only chance before he gets blasted into the rock pantheon. Fabrizio escapes the seething mass, broken hand in a sling (sadly replaced temporarily half way through their UK and Australian tour with Strokes friend Matt Romano), opting to talk to people outside the guest pass zone.

They have made it, with all that this entails. Young, talented, beautiful, cool and full of charisma, it seems that the rock and roll glitterati is at their blessed rock'n'roll feet. Hype and fashion aside, the music stands for itself. This is what we've been waiting for.

—

*Note 16/03/2025: Rip It Up appears to have gotten Nick and Nikolai mixed up. Julian and Nikolai were the ones who met first.

—

Stroke it

by Scott Kara

It’s nothing new, but God bless The Strokes. The comparisons between The Strokes and some bands from the past are obvious. Remember the first time you heard Nirvana's Nevermind or the Pixies Surfer Rosa and every damn song on the album was catchy –- well, that is true for the Strokes debut Is This it?

Even the band themselves make no secret of the formula behind their success. Julian Casablancas told Rip it Up: “I had this idea to make is This It? (their debut album] sound like music heard in the future, from 30 years ago.*

It's no surprise The Strokes stripped back gargle hails from New York, the home to the Ramones and Television.

At present American rock is known for either nu-metal - Linkin Park, Mudvayne, Limp Bizkit - or the clean and "nice" variety - Incubus, Train, Staind and Lifehouse. So it's a relief to have something as simple, raw and raunchy as The Strokes.

It makes you recall the past golden era of some American bands who paved the way for the Strokes like the Pixies, Husker Du, Sonic Youth and of course, Pavement.

As an indication of the influence these American bands had on world music take a look at Pavement front man, Stephen Malkmus. This low-key, lo-fi singer/guitarist is credited with inspiring Blur's true break-through album, The Great Escape.

Malkmus used to be friends with Blur's Damon Albarn but since Blur "ripped off" Pavement's signature sound on albums 13 and Blur, the relationship has been touchy. Malkmus is also credited with having some influence over Radiohead's OK Computer.

But if the USA has Malkmus and Pavement, then England would argue that they have Mark E Smith and the Fall. And if the USA and England have their patron saints of simple, clanging and banging music then New Zealand bands like The Clean, the Verlaines and Straitjacket Fits can claim some part in The Strokes DNA.

These so-called Flying Nun bands were a huge influence on Stephen Malkmus. "For me it was the years 1986 - 1990 when I was into Flying Nun," he told Rip It Up in April this year upon the release of his latest solo album."I went off to college and got into punk and New Zealand music. It was kind of poppy and jangly but it was slightly underground." What better way to describe The Strokes?

Clean, clang, bang

THE AMERICANS:

Ramones

Ramones (1976)

Blitzkrieg Bop was the Ramones first anthem. Rock’n’roll stripped back to its bare essentials — four chords, catchy tunes and deliciously daft words.

Television

Marquee Moon (1977)

The Strokes could very well be Television. But the difference is, Television played three-minute songs as well as ten-minute songs.

Husker Du

New Day Rising (1985)

Sonic three-man guitar rock. The opening assault of New Day Rising could just as well have signaled Apocalypse rising.

Sonic Youth

Daydream Nation (1989)

If the Ramones were simple, catchy rock’n’roll then Sonic Youth were simple, catchy, noise. Whether you’re sailing Cross The Breeze or riding a Silver Rocket — it’s a trip.

Pavement

Slanted and Enchanted (1992)

Debatable whether this is their best work but it’s what the public wanted and apparently what Blur — and Radiohead to a certain extent — needed.

THE BRITS:

The Fall

458489 A-Sides (1990)

This album encompasses the mid to late 80s when the Fall was at their arty, deviant best. Everything from warped opener Oh Brother! to the jaunt of Dead Beat Descendent.

THE NEW ZEALANDERS

The Clean

Boodle, Boodle, Boodle (1981)

Simple, catchy and child-like. It’s music that became uniquely Kiwi sounding and is a sound that many overseas still associate most strongly with NZ.

The Chills

Kaleidoscope World (1984)

This eight-song collection included everything from the dark foreboding Pink Frost to the rollicking Rolling Moon and the flutter of Kaleidoscope World.

The Bats

Daddy’s Highway

Noisy country pop music you can stage dive to. Their line up read like a mini NZ-super group including Robert Scott (ex-Clean) and Paul Kean (ex-Toy Love).

Straitjacket Fits

Melt (1990)

Shayne Carter (now Dimmer’s head honcho) has a unique voice and shows on Melt his genius songwriting talents. She Speeds might not be here, but who cares.

The Verlaines

Hallelujah All The Way Home (1985)

Graeme Dowqnes (see story over page) is a poet and story teller and puts it to music. He now teaches the rock’n’roll degree at Otago University.

[aaaarsonist]

I need more "Bruce is dead" fics where the Titans are there for his friend, because it feels wrong seeing Dick alone while grieving and taking care of everything and everyone. Roy being there during patrols or galas (since he doesn't have powers, he doesn't break the "no meta" rule, and as the son of Oliver Queen, he's also invited to the galas); Donna, Wally and Kory just showing up whenever they can (advantages of being able to fly or being fast); at leats texts or calls from the rest of the TT; the Fab Five showing up unannounced and forcing Dick to slow down, etc.

[royboyfanpage]

What are your top Roy ships?

Number 1 forever and ever is Jaderoy <3 loves of my lifes forever, but Roygarth is a close second. Also a fan of donnaroy, roykyle, and dickroy! :D

[whiteshipnightjar]

✨ sparkling in the night forever ✨

Saoirse Ronan in The Outrun (2024)

[bastardofharrenhal]

"Team green won bc aegon is listed as king" "team black won bc rhaenyra's son sat the throne" they both lost bc the dragons r dead

[maxwellssilverbeatles]

if ABO existed in the real world, what flavor of omega would each of the beatles be?

i am here to answer this question that no but me has ever asked! IF YOU DON'T LIKE ABO OR MENTIONS OF IT, DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST.

first off, i fully believe that all the beatles would be omegas, maybe george as a token beta, but absolutely no alphas in the band. thinking logistically, this is the 1960s we're talking about, and ABO is basically just a second gender aka a second set of gender norms assigned to people from birth. omega = more feminine traits, alpha = more masculine traits and beta = neutral, we all know this already. but because of this we can assume that omegas experience discrimination in much the same way as women do, a form of sexism based in the fact that omegas are supposed to be subservient to betas and particularly alphas, who are meant to act as protectors of weak, defenseless omegas. in the 1960s, such sexism would be much more normalized in society, and therefore the idea of separation between the different sexes in any context other than courting would be stronger. just as the idea of boy/girl platonic friendship wasn't normalized (even to this day), the idea of casual omega/alpha friendship wouldn't be normalized either. because of that, i believe all four of the beatles would most likely be the same second gender, because of their comfortability and intimacy around one another and the way that most people's closest friends are of the same gender as it's an easily shared and relatable experience.

now, why do i believe they are all specifically omegas? they could just as easily all be alphas or betas? this is where more of my opinion comes in. ABO and the omegaverse was created as a specific way of fetishizing queer male relationships and viewing them through the lenses of staunchly heterosexual, patriarchal relationships. a way to take a homosexual relationship and distill it down to inherently harmful stereotypes of queer people, that there's always a more feminine/masculine presenting person and that whether you decide to top or bottom determines your amount of "gayness" and therefore your masculinity. the creation behind the omegaverse was just a kinky way of being able to view male/male relationships as essentially just a straight relationship in which both partners just so happen to have dicks. alphas are portrayed as big, strong, aggressive protectors with huge cocks to knot their mates with. omegas are seen as overall gentle and demure, who go through periods of heat in which their sexuality is inherently tied to wanting to be fucked and impregnated by their mates aka seen as submissive. betas rarely have any emphasis in omegaverse stories, due to them just being regular people who don't have raging horomones in them telling them to give in to their most basic, sexual, animalistic urges, but they are often portrayed as mediators between the bs of alphas and omegas.

the beatles were never and have never been viewed as pillars of masculinity in the way that other rock stars at the time were viewed. that is just a simple fact, whether it be due to their overwhelmingly large female fan base from the beginning of their careers or the way they dressed and presented themselves. much like their rise to mega-stardom, i believe it was a mix of a lot of different elements of themselves and their brand that let them get this more "soft" label that they eventually tried to break out of. it wasn't just the female fans, as elvis also had a disproportionate number of female fans and he was always seen as a masculine rocker. it was also the matching suits and haircuts, their "silly love songs", their goofy demeanor in interviews and the fact that paul mccartney just has a really pretty face and voice. because of this, i highly doubt the alpha label fits any of them, not because they were particular feminine but because they didn't express their masculinity in a particularly obvious, stereotypical way. one could just say it was the styles of the decade, and i would agree with you, but also not every rock star has people debating on whether or not they were bisexual + having an extremely large community of people fully believing they were fucking/in love their best friend to this day quite like john lennon.

so, they're all omegas imo 🤷 now here's my cringe hcs (,,◕　⋏　◕,,)

paul is a sluttyyyy omega who pretends to be a beta. because of his extremely repressed nature due to his upbringing (*cough* jim mccartney *cough*), he would probably be ashamed about his second gender and try to bottle away his inner feelings on the issue through suppressant abuse (if we're in a universe in which those exist yet) and overall randy-ness (he's a horny boy! he fucks a lot!). his repression leads to a lot of frustration, the regular kind and also the sexual kind, which he expresses primarily through his stubbornness/unwillingness to compromise and his obsession with perfectionism (both represented through his overbearing presence in the studio).

john is a confusing case. he is undoubtably an omega, just like paul, and he also has a great deal of self directed shame as most male omegas do (they're supposed to be masculine as they're boys, but they're also able to get pregnant and go through heats so they're seen as lesser and gay- derogatory). but i also believe he uses his omega status to benefit himself in ways paul does not do (paul hides and represses while john makes self directed digs at himself and his gender and then bats his eyelids to get whatever he wants). he is also more open about his feelings than paul is, talking more freely about his struggles and is more willing to be vulnerable around others. if it weren't for the fact that he was married with a kid, he would've probably received a lot of hate and controversy due to his very un-omegalike and flamboyant personality.

ringo is just a confident omega man who settles down when he's ready to settle down. due to his shorter height, he was never really going to pass as a beta or alpha and he's resigned himself to that. he was also the most disregarded member of the band, which led to him having less of a focus on himself than his other group members, and therefore less pressure to become a family man despite his age. but such inattention leads to insecurity in himself, his looks and his musical abilities which he compensates for by acting as “the funny beatle” and being generally the most easygoing of the 4.

george is the youngest of the group and because of that he was always being overshadowed by an image of innocence and the overwhelming force of johnpaul. he obviously hated this image. he got girlfriends, slept around a lotttt, made sure to be more expressive and loud in interviews, and changed his style and his hair to suit the person he felt he was on the inside but that wouldn't stop the public from viewing him as "the quiet beatle" or the most ideal omega of the 4. it also didn't help that he wanted to experiment more with music and get more of his songs onto the LPs but repressed and stubborn paul mccartney kept treating him like a baby brother.

this is unbelievably long and stupid and probably unreadable as i wrote it in one sitting as a ramble and didn't look over it at all. hope this gets no attention and forces me to realize i need to get a life and a hobby outside of being parasocial about (dead) 80 year olds. holy shit

[thefastestclockintheuniverse]

IT IS CRUCIAL FUKKIN BLING JANEY

[gretahayes]

Titans (1999) #2

Everyone else: OH MY GOD LOOK WHAT NIGHTWING DID. DOES HE NEED HELP? SHOULD WE GO HELP HIM?

The fab five: he's fine 🙄 leave him alone

[necrotic-nephilim]

What do you think about the fab five polycule

(Dick x donna x wally x garth x roy)

i'll be SO honest i wish i had like. insightful interesting opinions on them but i've always been a Young Justice kid and sort of. breezed past consuming Fab Five Teen Titans content-

but of what i *do* know, from the few comics i've read with these characters is this is one of the best ships for Dick, honestly. it always deeply annoys me when fanon content breezes past the Titans as if they're just some distant teammates and not some of Dick's closest friends, if not a second family. *especially* the Fab Five. for most, if not all of them, it's the first time getting to actually connect with other teen heroes. so there's something fun about how sort of terrible they are at it, at first. they all care about each other a lot. but they're kind of chucked into the deep figuring out how to work with each other and get along with *very* different personalities, so it's fun to see where the conflict comes.

as a ship, i do really love it. the Titans are a family. like we call a lot of teams found families, but for the Fab Five, that shit is the truest. they depend on each other and trust each other. when Dick and Bruce are on outs and Bruce fires him, he goes to the Titans.

i also enjoy how, to an extent, all of them are outsiders of some kind. Donna is alone in a new world she's never experienced, the same as Garth. Roy is still new and awkward to living the rich life with Oliver. Wally doesn't connect to his parents well. and of course, Dick has lost his parents and only has Bruce, who isn't the most emotionally available. of course they're going to cling to each other, as the first people they can really develop connections too. they're very clingy with each other and i think that's both cute and *fun* to explore like, codependency issues with them. how protective they can be of each other, how they default to trusting each other over their mentors, etc. it's all very interesting for a polycule, especially since for most of them, it's their first real relationship. i'm a big fan of "none of us know what dating looks like bc we've had such strange childhoods so we don't understand the Rules very well. we're all just going to date each other bc why would i date only one of you. do teamups count as dates now." vibes with teenage polycules. and the Fab Five just. have that on lock. they each fulfill a different "niche" in the group. Garth is the softer, more emotional one you can go to if you're upset. Donna is the one for planning bright fun trips and making sure you don't wallow. Roy is protective and can pretend to be suave, but he shows affection through gift giving and grand gestures where words fail him. Wally can cheer any of them up with jokes and distractions. and of course Dick is the logical one who makes sure they all keep their heads on and don't drown in the responsibility.

overall i think it's a really cute ship and i do wish i just. knew more about them to be able to write them/read fic of it because i do love their dynamic. and i'm just a firm believer in the Titans being Dick's family, just as important to him as the Batfam. they're a disaster and for that you gotta love them.

[sophaeros]

“The mirror can be a source of vanity,” he says softly. “But it can also be a point of self-reflection, you kind of see yourself outside yourself, one of many perhaps. [Pause.] And being able to see yourself and the relationship you have with the artwork kind of sanctifies that moment — I’m hoping.”

the strokes for shortlist magazine, march 2011 // fabrizio moretti inside his installation sculpture kube, 2021 // fabrizio moretti for los angeles times, dec 2021

[messrsrarchives]

14- favorite book/fic you’ve read this year :3

OOO fav book: The Left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guine. sci-fi which isn't my go to but !!! essentially the MC is sent to another planet and has to adjust to their norms - this planet is agender with no gender roles or norms, all go by they/them and only have an assigned sex once during their cycle to reproduce. the politics!? it was so much less "can people change their gender" and more "can we ever free ourselves from this system", but in a way that was just. UGH. the story, the characters, the politics? everything about this was flawless and it's ignited a love for sci-fi in me which noone could have seen coming. highly recommend.

and FICS!? god i've read so many this year but these two really stick out:

The Heir to the House of Prince (series) - elph13 i mean cmon, we saw my reactions to this. just,,, truly phenomenal. the characters, the worldbuilding, the magical lore, the LOVE!? love is so so so important to me and i really liked the emphasis on past relationships here where it isn't "this was nothing now that i've met you" but rather "this is a part of me. even if it didn't work out, that love was there and it's no less important than this one" and i just admire that a lot. INCREDIBLE snupin, INCREDIBLE nottpott, incredible everything. this series was a highlight. worldbuilding and magical lore are two of my favourite things in fics and this one was just phenomenal.

Language Lessons - MsAlexWP: ( @languagelessonswolfstar ) potentially the most fun i've had following along with a WIP. getting the email, RUNNINGGGG to friends and reacting together and then leaving excited comments? fandom <3 but ohhh this one. first of all, sirius' accidental magic is everything to me, we don't often see that explored in adults and i loved that (again, magical loreee!!) if you know me, you know i LOVE dual-timeline fics, and you'll know i love fwb/oblivious fics. again!!! love!!! love in all its manifestations, love that's always been there whether you noticed it or not, just ugh. also regulus is a monk btw, throwing that here. but yes, this one sticks out as a big part of this year both because of the story and the experience reading it.

[dude-could-you-be-more-gay]

Reading Blood and Gold is crazy because the entire time, Marius swears he's fighting demons, but that bitch is really just fighting the consequences of his own actions.

[fabdante]

hey give me book recs

any book will do i am not picky

in the replies or a reblog or a tag whatever